As they exited the
elevator, Dawson brought Fallon out onto the balcony where her friends were all
kneeling on the tile. She was pushed down next to Megan who was no longer
gagged but still looking wildly around.
Fallon realized
Dawson had walked away from her and was heading down the hall towards his
suite. Her head snapped around when the muscle bound man in the tight leather
pants began to speak. “I am Master Demano, and I own you in the afternoons. My
training will get you in top physical condition, so you will be better able to
please your Masters and Mistress. Stamina is an important requirement of your
conditioning, as well as a tight, strong appearance.”
Without warning,
Megan rose and ran towards the balcony. Her intention was obvious, and all of
the girls screamed in horror. Ten feet from the edge, Megan came to an abrupt
halt and she stiffened and shrieked, falling to the ground and writhing. Arturo
strode calmly towards her, and drew an invisible line on the tile about a foot
back towards the other girls. “Your collar must be on this side of the barrier
for the correction to stop.”
He left Megan
shrieking and twisting on the floor, and turned towards the other wailing
girls. “Stop that noise. It is irritating.” He was pleased when they reduced to
sniffles. The girls continued to focus on Megan, who occasionally jerked on the
ground, and finally began pushing her feet on the tile, trying to slide her
prone body away from the agony. Demano continued, “All of the windows and
doors… and the balcony, of course… have a security measure installed for your
safety. Your Masters are investing much time and money into your training, and
will not see it wasted on an impulsive accident.”
Demano turned to see
Megan out of the shocking zone and quivering with her knees curled to her
chest. “Megan, get back into position, or I will use the remote if you choose
to enjoy your collar’s abilities.” His accent was very thick, and Fallon had no
idea of its origin. Megan sobbed and dragged herself back to her place beside
Fallon, and when Fallon tried to scoot closer to console her, Demano warned,
“You have enough to worry about with your own training.”
“Now, in the warmer
weather, we will train out here to give your body a pleasing color from the
sun. There is an inside room on a lower floor for inclement weather and winter.
Everyone look over here.” The girls’ eyes followed him to where a large, round
metal disk lay on the floor with two chains hanging from one edge of a matching
disk suspended over it from the ceiling, and two strewn on the edge of the
surface of the disk on the floor. “If anyone needs correcting for not following
my instructions, they will be spread and hung from these disks. They turn very
slowly, with half of the arch beyond the collar’s boundary. Would you like to
demonstrate the device for your friends, Megan?”
“No,” she shrieked
and began to back away.
Demano stormed up to
her and grabbed her collar. “No, Master.”
“No… no, Master,”
her panicked voice gasped.
Demano patted her
head. “Very good.” He looked down at the thin woman’s body, noting small
breasts with no muscle tone, slim hips which produced little curve for a waist,
and a flat ass. “I think you might try hard to get your body strengthened for
your Master.”
Demano unhooked
their wrists and led them through two hours of stretching and slow exercises.
Through the months working with him, the maneuvers became more demanding and
strenuous as their bodies lengthened and tightened.
Over the course of
their time with him, none of the women ever tried to run away, as exercise
class and the bathing that followed were the only time the women could
sometimes whisper to each other. As time wore on, there seemed to be less and
less they needed to say.
After Demano was
finished, he clipped their wrists behind them again. Leashes were attached to
all four collars, and gripped in one of his big hands. The girls followed him
silently to the elevator, eyeing each other nervously when his thumb touched
the pad. They sank into the mountain, and exited on the floor that Fallon
thought the clinic was on. He led them down to the door at the end of the long
corridor, and it opened to a room softly lit, with padded tables scattered
around it.
“Groomers, come,”
Demano ordered. Five naked young women appeared from behind them, and knelt
before the trainer with their hands clasped behind their backs and their chests
thrust forward. “Anna, you will take care of Courtney. Beth can take Megan,
Veronica and Andrea, and Heather and Fallon.” Demano turned to the frightened
women. “You will follow the slaves’ instructions or be punished.” He waited a
moment, “Acknowledge me, slaves. I will not remind you again.”
“Yes, Master,” the
quivering voices replied.
Heather was a tiny
brunette with no outstanding features. Her eyes held dulled acceptance of her
situation, and Fallon found herself wondering how long ago she had been
captured. After Demano unhooked the leashes, he lay back on a sofa with the
fifth girl kneeling between his legs.