the door behind her, Alice heard
his voice at her back, saying, ‘I’m sorry, Miss Pierce, but a headmaster has certain
needs.’ Suddenly he raised Alice’s skirt and put his hand around her waist, and seized
her young pussy in his right hand. ‘You’re going to lie over my desk this instant,
Miss Pierce,’ he said, ‘and take my hard cock in your tight little arse-hole. I am
afraid you shan’t like it very much.’”
Rose came, screaming, “Oh, God… oh, God…” and pushing at her own bottom-hole with
the middle finger of her left hand while she rubbed her clit with the fingers of her
right in a frantic circular motion. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open.
Rose Hutchison was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Leo had ever broken. David
was going to get his money’s worth.
Chapter Twelve
“Are you satisfied?” asked Abigail, over video chat, once Joanne had watched all the
videos.
“Yes,” she replied. “I think Rose is going to be very happy.”
“So do we. She presents a few difficulties, but so does every pick-up.”
“You mean how close she is to being a volunteer?”
“Yes, that’s the principal problem, we think. If she grows too willing, it may spoil
her value—and the value of the program to her. That’s why Master Leo used the red
collar.”
“What does the red collar mean?” Joanne asked, curious.
“Absolutely nothing,” said Abigail.
* * *
The woman in the short blue nightgown spoke in a firm, declaratory tone. “You are
now in a house we simply call the Institute. This is a facility—a very luxurious facility,
you’ll find—for the training of submissive concubines. You will spend as much time
here as is required to make you into the kind of concubines your masters desire. From
time to time your masters may visit you here, and enjoy you, to see how your training
is coming along.”
Rose was kneeling, completely naked, with two other girls, in the foyer of what seemed
to her to be a large country house. It was dark outside, she could see through the
windows she glimpsed in the gracious rooms on either side of the foyer, but she heard
a rooster somewhere in the distance; dawn would arrive very soon. Inside, the foyer
was brilliantly lit by a chandelier high above, but that seemed to be the only light
on at the Institute, except for dim fixtures in the hallways she could glimpse on
either side at the top of the grand staircase in front of whose base the woman in
the little blue nightgown was standing to address them.
Rose had awoken perhaps ten minutes before, lying on her back on a cot in a kind of
entryway just outside this foyer. Her cuffs had still been on, fastened to the frame
of the cot by short lengths of chain loose enough to allow her a full range of movement.
Turning her head as she tried to remember where she might be, she saw the other girls,
on their cots, looking back at her: a stunning model-beautiful redhead of about twenty
with breasts so small they were like lemons, and a voluptuous brunette of about thirty-five.
They too were fastened by cuffs, and wore collars and belts; they too, Rose saw immediately,
had been waxed between their thighs.
For a long moment the three of them looked at one another; Rose was absolutely certain
that they were all remembering similar experiences over the past forty-eight hours:
being broken; learning that they were concubines. Where was Master Leo?
The door opened; Rose could see a grand foyer, with a brilliantly lit chandelier,
beyond. A beautiful woman in a sheer pale blue nightgown that came to her knees in
a lace border, her hair black with a few hints of silver, stood in the doorway, and
said, “Welcome, girls.”
She stepped into the little entry hall, and three other women, younger—all in their
20s, it would seem—emerged from the foyer into the entryway. Two wore the same blue
nightgown as the woman who had
his voice at her back, saying, ‘I’m sorry, Miss Pierce, but a headmaster has certain
needs.’ Suddenly he raised Alice’s skirt and put his hand around her waist, and seized
her young pussy in his right hand. ‘You’re going to lie over my desk this instant,
Miss Pierce,’ he said, ‘and take my hard cock in your tight little arse-hole. I am
afraid you shan’t like it very much.’”
Rose came, screaming, “Oh, God… oh, God…” and pushing at her own bottom-hole with
the middle finger of her left hand while she rubbed her clit with the fingers of her
right in a frantic circular motion. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open.
Rose Hutchison was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Leo had ever broken. David
was going to get his money’s worth.
Chapter Twelve
“Are you satisfied?” asked Abigail, over video chat, once Joanne had watched all the
videos.
“Yes,” she replied. “I think Rose is going to be very happy.”
“So do we. She presents a few difficulties, but so does every pick-up.”
“You mean how close she is to being a volunteer?”
“Yes, that’s the principal problem, we think. If she grows too willing, it may spoil
her value—and the value of the program to her. That’s why Master Leo used the red
collar.”
“What does the red collar mean?” Joanne asked, curious.
“Absolutely nothing,” said Abigail.
* * *
The woman in the short blue nightgown spoke in a firm, declaratory tone. “You are
now in a house we simply call the Institute. This is a facility—a very luxurious facility,
you’ll find—for the training of submissive concubines. You will spend as much time
here as is required to make you into the kind of concubines your masters desire. From
time to time your masters may visit you here, and enjoy you, to see how your training
is coming along.”
Rose was kneeling, completely naked, with two other girls, in the foyer of what seemed
to her to be a large country house. It was dark outside, she could see through the
windows she glimpsed in the gracious rooms on either side of the foyer, but she heard
a rooster somewhere in the distance; dawn would arrive very soon. Inside, the foyer
was brilliantly lit by a chandelier high above, but that seemed to be the only light
on at the Institute, except for dim fixtures in the hallways she could glimpse on
either side at the top of the grand staircase in front of whose base the woman in
the little blue nightgown was standing to address them.
Rose had awoken perhaps ten minutes before, lying on her back on a cot in a kind of
entryway just outside this foyer. Her cuffs had still been on, fastened to the frame
of the cot by short lengths of chain loose enough to allow her a full range of movement.
Turning her head as she tried to remember where she might be, she saw the other girls,
on their cots, looking back at her: a stunning model-beautiful redhead of about twenty
with breasts so small they were like lemons, and a voluptuous brunette of about thirty-five.
They too were fastened by cuffs, and wore collars and belts; they too, Rose saw immediately,
had been waxed between their thighs.
For a long moment the three of them looked at one another; Rose was absolutely certain
that they were all remembering similar experiences over the past forty-eight hours:
being broken; learning that they were concubines. Where was Master Leo?
The door opened; Rose could see a grand foyer, with a brilliantly lit chandelier,
beyond. A beautiful woman in a sheer pale blue nightgown that came to her knees in
a lace border, her hair black with a few hints of silver, stood in the doorway, and
said, “Welcome, girls.”
She stepped into the little entry hall, and three other women, younger—all in their
20s, it would seem—emerged from the foyer into the entryway. Two wore the same blue
nightgown as the woman who had
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