Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2017 00:30:08 +0000 (UTC)
From: sfmaster <sfmaster@att.net>
Subject: Janet in Training CH09 Part 1

WARNING!  This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content.  It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such
behavior, stop reading immediately!!!


"Janet in Training" Chapter Nine: The Ordeal

By mailto:sfmaster@att.net

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"Janet in Training" by mailto:sfmaster@att.net


Chapter Nine: The Ordeal

Part One

	Janet looked outside her bedroom window at the dark winter sky.
She had been sleeping in Erica's bedroom now for months, and fortunately
Tiffany had not made an issue of it.  But it still felt strange sleeping in
Erica's bed, wearing her clothes, and living her life.  It had been six
months since her death last summer, and the time had gone by quickly.

	She rose from bed, and decided not to go through the ritual of
having Tina bathe and dress her.  It was a nice luxury, to be sure.  And
she often enjoyed it.  But not everyday, and she wasn't a child that had to
be pampered at her every move.

	Janet stretched, and jumped in the hot shower.  She washed off the
sweat that had been generated when she and Tiffany had dominated a new girl
named Denise Powell who had been in Erica's records.  Janet had decided
that she didn't want to intrude on Tiffany's scene, and had politely
excused herself halfway through.  She could have continued with Tina, but
had decided to read for the rest of the night.  Besides, she had already
decided to use Tina tomorrow night.  Janet had brought a riding crop, and
straps to tie Tina to her bed.  She was going to have a wonderful evening
planned.

	She soaped her breasts and belly, glad that she was using the
exercise room.  Tina had gone to school for cooking, and Janet wondered if
she was qualified to be a chef.  Had she not exercised, Janet was worried
that she would have gained weight.  Still, she had asked Tina to lay off
the rich food and adjusted the menus accordingly.  Gluttons didn't fit into
skintight rubberwear.

	After the shower awakened her, she dressed in a plaid shirt and old
jeans.  She pulled her legs into a pair of boots, and tucked her cuffs
inside.  Janet would be going into town today to the broker, and she had to
prepare.

	In the six months that they had been living together as two
Dominants under one roof, there was one thing that they never discussed:
Erica's contest.

	They shared in the training and discipline of slaves, even slept
together on occasion.  They shared the most intimate details that two women
could have under one roof.  But still, they could not discuss the Sword of
Damocles that hung above them.

	Janet had never made any mention of it, nor about what she was
doing.  She had memorized the brokers number, then burned his card.  Then
she had rented a bank safety deposit box in town where she kept her notes.
She never kept her notes at home, nor discussed them in any way.

	Tiffany was far different.  She left copies of financial newspapers
at home, with stocks clearly circled.  Her notes were sometimes found lying
around, and she made little effort to conceal what she was doing.  Janet
didn't know if she really owned the stocks, of course.

	After dressing, she went downstairs.  The kitchen was empty, and
Janet guessed that Tiffany had asked Tina to help her bathe and dress.  So
Janet got her juice from the fridge, and started the water for fresh
coffee.

	If Janet wanted to be independent, Tiffany wanted to be pampered.
She would frequently use Tina as her bath girl in the morning, making her
rise very early.  If she made a mistake, Tina would be sure to receive a
few strokes with the crop that Tiffany kept in her room.

	Still, Tina did not complain.  She had demonstrated her ability to
serve both as a domestic and more.  They both used her as their assistant
in the Dungeon, and as sex slave at night.  Janet sometimes wondered if
Tiffany was careless, however.

	Tina ran into the kitchen, her heels clicking on the tiles.  Worry
was clearly visible on her face.

	"Mistress Janet, I'm sorry to be late," Tina apologized.

	"It's all right," said Janet.

	"I was being used by Mistress Tiffany."

	"I know.  Tell me, does Tiffany interfere in your work in keeping
the house?  Then punish you if you have failed to clean or do something?"
questioned Janet.

	"Yes, Mistress."

	"Thank you, Tina.  I had no idea.  I'll take up the matter with
Tiffany, and she will not interfere with your work again."

	"Thank you, Mistress," answered Tiffany.

	Breakfast was a loud affair, with Tiffany eager to explain how she
had disciplined and used Denise.  Janet listened to her, hearing the
details like Tiffany had just bought a coat at a department store.  She
wondered if Tiffany had really read all of the documents that Erica had
left them.  Or had just managed to find the one on the stock market contest
and ignore the rest.

	She certainly hadn't read the parts on training and using slave
girls.  Janet had spent day after day, reading and rereading, constantly
asking questions of Stephanie.  Since Janet had befriended Stephanie,
Tiffany had instead turned for advice to Mistress Lauren Singer.  Mistress
Lauren evidently hadn't read those rules either, and Stephanie was
strangely silent about her.

	Like two prizefighters in the ring, Janet thought, they both had
their respective corners and advisors.  After breakfast, she went to the
library, and turned on the radio to get the weather report. Snow was
forecast, and she wanted to drive into town to see the broker.

	Tiffany would use the phone to contact her broker, and Erica
certainly wouldn't have them use the same person, or even the same firm.
But Janet didn't dare use the phone.  Instead, Janet followed her ritual of
driving into town.  Then she used the public library (she had given the
library a generous donation during a fundraising drive) then went to the
broker, and returned home.  Her excuse was that she was going shopping, and
she had to purchase something to justify her trips.

	 Living in Connecticut during winter was quite different than in
Queens.  Greenwich was full of hills, not flat like Queens, so driving was
challenge even during good weather.  Small winding roads, slower speeds,
and frequent hills all made the place a nightmare to drive through.  Janet
had learned caution when after a brief rainstorm she had hit the brakes and
slid through an intersection.  So she drove nice and slow.

	Snow was forecast, but only in the evening.  Good, that would give
her the chance to go to Greenwich and do her business with the broker.
Janet now had to decide what coat to wear today.

	Looking at her watch, she saw that it was near opening time for the
library. It would be nice to have a day out.  However, she wondered if it
was better to confront Tiffany about her treatment of Tina first, or leave
it for later in the day.

	Her decision was made for her when she heard the front door close
with a bang.  That meant that Tiffany was off somewhere, and gone for the
day.

	At least that decision had been postponed for now.  Since Tiffany
had made friends with Mistress Lauren, she had certainly changed, and for
the worse.  Lauren expressed the view that she was lord over her slaves,
and treated them badly.  She definitely was glad that her first Mistress
had been Erica, and not Lauren.  It was one thing to serve and be properly
disciplined.  It was another to be carelessly treated by a selfish and
intolerant Mistress.  Janet shivered at the life that her slaves must lead!

	Finishing her coffee, Janet turned the radio off.  Only to see
large white snowflakes start drifting down onto the ground, sticking right
as they landed.

	"Just a great day," said Janet aloud, "I have to see the broker, I
have to talk with Tiffany, and it has to snow.  What else will the gods
throw at me today?"

	"Mistress?" asked Tina, "I heard you speaking.  Were you calling
me?"

	"No, Tina.  Just talking to myself, thank you.  You may proceed
with your work."

	"Thank you, Mistress," Tina answered as she closed the library
doors.

	Janet did not look where she was going until she walked right into
Erica's computer, almost toppling over the minitower.

	"Damn!" shouted Janet, after stubbing her toe on the computer's
desk.

	She seated herself on the chair, and pulled her boot off, massaging
her aching toe.  It throbbed, and she was considering calling Tina to get
an icepack for her.  Suddenly, her eyes turned to feral slits as she looked
at the computer setup.

	"Holy cow, what a fool I've been," said Janet to herself.

	Janet stared at the computer like it was an alien artifact.  In the
six months since they had inherited the estate, neither of them had touched
the computer.  Tiffany, after leaving her job, had said that she had never
wanted to use one again.  Janet had just been too busy, and even though she
was in the library constantly, she had never thought to turn it on either.

	All of the memories of Erica working on the computer flooded back
to her.  Whenever she had arrived, Erica could usually be found at the
machine.  Janet wondered just how much she worked at the machine when the
other household duties were taken care of.

	Her hand was reaching for the on switch when she stopped herself.
She suddenly remembered that once at her firm files had been deleted by
accident.  So they had taken the machine to a data retrieval service that
had recovered them.  If Janet had turned on the machine, they would likely
have been lost!

	Since Erica had covered her other clues, why not this one?
Assuming that Erica had deleted the files, they would still be on the hard
drive.  She opened the desk drawer for the local phone books, her throbbing
foot totally forgotten.

	"Eureka!" Janet shouted.

	Not only was there a data retrieval service here in Greenwich, they
were connected to the firm that her company had used in Manhattan!  She
picked up the phone, and asked their hours.

	Janet pulled her boot on again, and pulled the computer desk away
from the wall.  Fortunately, the cables were few and easy.  She carried the
computer into the kitchen, and wrapped it in plastic bags.

	Pulling her coat around herself, she exited the house.  The drive
into Greenwich was already slow, and she passed an accident.  Finally, she
pulled in front of her destination.

	"Can I help you?" asked the woman at the front desk.

	"Yes, I called earlier.  I need something retrieved from this
machine," answered Janet.

	"Fill out this form, and I'll have someone take care of you," said
the woman as she passed Janet a clipboard, form, and pen.

	Janet raced through the form just in time for a white-coated man to
enter the waiting area.

	"Hi, I'm Carl.  Sharon tells me you need something found?"

	"Hello, I'm Janet Davis.  Yes, I need something from this machine,
and I'm afraid that I may erase it by accident."

	"Step this way, please," indicated Carl.

	Janet followed him to a clean area, where computer lay open their
internal contents open to view.  He sat down at a bench, and motioned for
Janet to put the machine down and take a seat.

	"Would you like to leave it here?" he asked.

	Janet had taken two new crisp hundred-dollar bills and had them
hidden in her hand.  This was something she needed now, and couldn't wait.

	"The information I need is of a pressing nature, and must be
extracted immediately for business reasons.  I'm prepared to wait,"
answered Janet.

	"No problem, I can do this right away," he said.

	Janet watched in silence as he opened the box up, and disconnected
the disk drive, only to reconnect it to another computer on his desk.  Then
he turned his machine on and fed power to only the disk drive on Erica's
computer.  He fiddled around with his keyboard for a moment, and Janet
watched as file names scrolled on the screen.

	"What are you looking for?" Carl asked.

	"Any files that were deleted just before the computer was last used
six months ago," answered Janet.

	He typed in a few more commands, then sat back in his chair.

	"There's just one, a letter."

	"Print it, please," asked Janet.

	The printer at the counter buzzed to life, and Janet walked over
and removed it.  She felt like screaming when she read the contents.

Dear Richard,
	As per our earlier discussion, Secretary Janet Davis is to be
dismissed for whatever reason immediately after she returns to work.

										Erica
Riken

	"Thank you," Janet stuttered when she looked up from the paper.

	"By the way, had you turned it on, that would have been deleted,"
cautioned Carl.

	Janet paid for the service in cash, and handed Carl the bills that
she had kept folded in her hand.

	"That's not necessary," he said.

	"Buy the whole office a good lunch on me.  I don't want any
solicitations in the mail from you for computer services.  So keep me off
your mailing list. That's what the extra payment is for," said Janet.

	Once back in the car, with the computer at her side, Janet felt
like pounding the steering wheel.  Had Erica and Andrea really died when
their plane went down in the rugged mountains of Mexico?  No bodies, or the
plane, had ever been found.

	Instead, now Janet knew that she was a puppet on a string.
Everything that happened had been arranged months in advance.  Erica's
death, the will, the contest.  Everything.  Except knowing that changed
nothing.  There was still the stock market, and the possibility that she
might become Tiffany's slave.

	Janet wiped the tears from her eyes before setting out for the
library.  She placed the printed letter in her safety deposit box before
going home as her last stop that day.  The dark gray winter sky, with snow
falling, was a perfect match for her mood right now.
														*
* * *
	Dinner was over, and they were both lingering at the table over
coffee and dessert.

	"Janet," began Tiffany, "I've noticed that you've been very moody
lately."

	"Yes, I guess so," Janet answered.

	"Well, I think that you should use that little girl I've been
training, Denise."

	"You've already used Denise twice this week," said Janet.

	"Yes, but she loves it so."

	"You should really give her a break.  If you use her too often,
she'll never want to serve you," cautioned Janet.

	"I disagree.  The harder you use a girl, the more she'll want to
serve."

	"Where did you hear that from.  Lauren?"

	"Yes.  Her girls are very well behaved," stated Tiffany.

	"I'm sure they are, and terrified to boot.  Erica never used you
quite so harshly," parried Janet.

	"She had me pierced," pouted Tiffany.

	"Which you thought of as a mark of love, which was what you told
me," said Janet.

	"Maybe you're right about that.  But still, we're on top now, and
should act like it.  So instead of entertaining Denise tonight, how about
going to Lauren's?  She's going to have a little party tonight, and we're
invited," Tiffany offered.

	"No thanks."

	"I never said anything when you took me to Stephanie's, did I?  You
can at least be polite by going to see one of my friends, too," criticized
Tiffany.

	Janet realized that Tiffany was correct.  Holding her emotions in
check, she breathed deeply and took the last swallow of coffee before
answering.

	"All right.  I'll go.  What's on the agenda?"

	"Just a little party game," answered Tiffany.

	Janet chose to wear a white linen blouse and a plaid skirt.  When
she waited for Tiffany, she wondered just what her companion had decided.
Janet bit her lip when she saw that Tiffany had picked a skintight red
rubber dress, and matching shoes.

	"Won't you be a little cold in that?"

	"We're going to someone's house, not out to a nightclub," Tiffany
pointed out.

	"And rubber is a little fragile also.  It's one thing to wear it at
home.  Something else to wear it outside," cautioned Janet.

	"Will you cut it out," said Tiffany. "We have to go now, or we'll
be late.  So let's go."

	"Who's driving?"

	"You are."

	With the sky totally black and the roads slippery, Janet decided to
take the Toyota.  Tiffany wanted her to drive the BMW, but Janet talked her
out of it.  She preferred to use the FWD sedan, rather than the sporty BMW.
Tiffany was mollified by the idea that they might go out and splurge on a
SUV.  It seemed that the prospect of spending money always managed to
impress Tiffany.

	Janet however, had a simpler idea for dealing with bad weather:
don't drive.

	The trip was long and slow, with Tiffany always urging her to go
faster.  Janet kept her mouth shut, determined to get them there in one
piece.  Learning to drive here had been a bitch, and it had taken her a
long time, but they finally arrived.

	Mistress Lauren Singer lived well outside Greenwich, in an estate
that had once been part of a large farm.  Gradually, the surrounding land
had been sold off, leaving only the house, which had been surrounded with a
wall also.  Janet drove up the driveway, and pressed a button on a post
where a speaker was located.  The gate opened, and she drove up to the
house.

	When they parked and exited the car, the door was opened and a Maid
was waiting for them.  Janet noted that the Maid was wearing a black silk
outfit, high heels, and a kerchief on her head.  She was also wearing a
collar and bracelets on her wrists.

	"Good evening," greeted the Maid, "you are expected."

	"Thank you," answered Tiffany.

	Janet followed her companion into the house.  The Maid took their
coats, and ushered them into the dining room.

	Mistress Lauren Singer was in her late thirties, slim and good
looking.  Janet thought that at one time she might have been a model, but
that had not been the case.

	"Good evening, Tiffany.  Nice to see you again, and you've brought
Janet," greeted Lauren.

	"I came along for the ride," said Janet.

	"What a liar," said Tiffany, "she insisted on driving."

	"Really.  Are you a good driver?" asked Lauren.

	"Yes," Janet answered, "it all depends on who's in control."

	"Let me introduce you to our other guests," Lauren took Janet's
hand, and they walked over to the dining room table.  Seated were two other
women, none of whom Janet recognized.

	"This is Carla and Rene," introduced Lauren, "this is Janet Davis,
who lives with Tiffany."

	"Nice to meet you," said Carla, "why don't you sit down?"

	"Thank you," said Janet as she pulled up a chair.

	"Drink?" asked Carla.

	"Thank you, is there any white wine?"

	"Sabrina?" called Carla.

	The Maid walked quickly to the dining room table, and stood at
attention before the seated women.

	"Janet here wasn't served properly," said Carla.

	"Would you like a drink, Mistress?" asked Sabrina.

	"Yes, some white wine would do," said Janet.

	"Yes, Mistress."

	Sabrina walked quickly to the bar, and poured a slender glass of
white wine.  She walked back, and placed it on the wooden table with a
coaster.

	"Your wine, Mistress," said Sabrina as she bowed.

	"Thank you, Sabrina," replied Janet.

	As Sabrina walked away, Janet speculated on whom among her two
companions would use this little omission for an excuse to punish Sabrina.
Lauren had not taken the bait from the small insult that Janet had used,
but Janet still suspected that her host would somehow use it against her
later.

	'God, I wish Stephanie was here,' thought Janet.

	In the last six months, it had been Stephanie who had taught her
all about being a Mistress.  Weeks before, Janet was at a party where had
seen Lauren mistreat a slave girl past her breaking point.  Janet wondered
if she was going to do it again.

	"Have you dominated many girls?" asked Rene.

	"A few.  I'm still feeling my way around," Janet answered.

	"Lauren has showed me the proper way to deal with my girls," said
Carla.

	"Really?" asked Janet.

	"She's going to provide a demonstration here tonight," said Rene,
"so don't spoil the fun for our new guest, Carla, by spilling the beans too
early."

	Janet took a sip of her drink, and decided to hold her tongue.
There was a structure here, a hierarchy of Dominance.  And it was Lauren
who was holding court in her house, like an African hyena out on the
plains.  Stephanie had made it quite plain to Janet that she disapproved of
Lauren and her methods.

	"Are we ready, ladies?" asked Lauren as she approached the dining
room table.

	"Yes," answered Janet, "but for what?"

	"First, the prize.  Sabrina!" called Lauren.

	Sabrina led a naked chained slave girl by a leash.  The girl was
completely naked, wearing only a collar, bracelets on her wrists and
ankles, and a ball gag.  Her wrists were joined behind her back, and a
leather strap was closed above her elbows drawing her arms together.

	"This is Myra, who belongs to Rene.  She's been a bad little girl
lately, and so Rene and I have decided that she's going to be the evening's
prize in a little contest."

	"Really," said Janet as Tiffany seated herself next to her.

	Janet looked Myra over, and saw that she had been well whipped.
Stripes, new and old, traced their way over her naked body.  The girl held
herself well, though the elbow strap must have hurt.  Janet wondered what
she must have been thinking, with her mouth filled with the rubber ball.

	"Janet, since you're new here, I'll let you do the honors.  Could
you go to the china closet and remove the game from the upper drawer?"
asked Lauren.

	"Certainly," said Janet.

	Doing as she was told, Janet walked over to the china closet and
opened the top drawer.  Inside was a wrapped rectangular object that she
carried back to the table.  Janet placed it in front of her as she again
seated herself, waiting for further instructions.

	"You may open it, Janet," directed Lauren.

	Janet pulled off the wrapping paper, and revealed a game from her
childhood, Conquest.  She pulled off the paper, and folded it neatly.
Janet then placed it in the center of the table, so that all of Lauren's
guests were facing it.

	"You're all familiar with Conquest, I hope?" asked Lauren.

	"Haven't played that in years," said Rene.

	"Me too," added Carla.

	Around the table, each guest admitted that they had played the game
at one time or another.  Finally, everyone looked at Janet.

	"I used to play, but that was years ago," admitted Janet.

	When her brother hadn't been trying to beat the crap out of her
bodily, he had been doing so on the board game.  They had played Conquest
constantly throughout childhood all the way to college.  Finally, tired of
being beat, she had read some books on war, learned her mistakes, and
started beating him.  By the time she reached college, she was unbeatable.
Macho male guys in the student center would find that she was a tough
customer who they couldn't defeat.

	"Well then, let's begin.  The winner will have the use of Myra here
tonight.  All of us get to watch down in my playroom," said Lauren.

	Janet opened the box, and unfolded the board onto the table.  All
of the players chose their color armies, and the nation cards were
distributed.  The armies were counted out, and placed on the board.  They
rolled the dice to set the order of play, and the four women engaged in War
to conquer the world.  With the prize being Myra, who had been led away by
Sabrina.

	Janet hung back, playing conservatively, letting the others battle
it out.  She attacked gradually, gaining new countries at first, continents
next.  Her color, red, that she had always used, gradually took over more
and more of the Earth's surface.

	In desperation, two of her opponents joined together to stop her.
But with one brilliant move after another, she first smashed one opponent,
then another.

	One by one, the others were eliminated. Their armies were removed
from the board, and they became her audience.  Finally, she faced Rene, but
it was all over.  Rene was left with just South America, and she conceded
defeat.

	"Well," said Lauren, "you certainly have a poker face."

	"Thank you," said Janet.

	"Do you conquer the world on a regular basis?" asked Lauren.

	"Not since college.  But I haven't forgotten how."

	"Had I known that we had such a good player in our midst, I would
have chosen something else," said Lauren.

	"This was quite nice," said Janet as she began to put away the
game, "perhaps we should play again sometime."

	"Not against you," replied Carla, "you're quite a vicious player."

	"This is war, remember," said Janet, "the winner dominates the
loser."

	"Bravo," cheered Rene, "and now you get the use of Myra."

	The four players and Lauren stood up from the table.  Lauren
insisted on showing them through the house, pointing out the gifts that her
affluent slaves had given her over the years.

	"Would you like to get dressed in something more fitting, Janet?
I'm sure that I can find something in leather that would fit.  I have such
a large wardrobe, after all," offered Lauren.

	"Thank you," said Janet, accepting her offer.

	"You can go into my bedroom.  My slave Sabrina is busy now, so
you'll have to get dressed yourself."

	"It's all right, I can manage," answered Janet.

	Having seen the bedroom already, Janet went by herself.  Lauren had
went back to finish giving the rest of her guests the tour of the house.

	Janet opened Lauren's closet, which she had only glimpsed before,
and walked inside.  Looking every bit as stocked as Erica's, Janet knew
that she wouldn't have any problem finding something to wear.

	Twenty minutes later, she was dressed in a simple black leather
bra, skirt, stockings, and high heels.  Janet admired herself in the
mirror, and was glad that they were nearly were the same size.

	Walking carefully on the rug, Janet made her way downstairs.  All
the doors to the Dungeon had been left open, so that she would have no
trouble finding her way there.

	When she arrived in the Dungeon, she found Lauren, Tiffany, Rene,
and Carla seated on whicker chairs shaped like thrones.  Sabrina was
standing next to a bar cart, and two of the guests were holding glasses.

	But at the center of the room was Myra!  She was hanging from the
ceiling by her wrists, which had been joined together.  Her legs were held
open by a spreader bar that was locked to her ankle bracelets.  Her feet
could barely touch the floor, so she swayed somewhat.  Her body was
strained, and Janet could see the ribs below her skin.

	Myra still wore the ballgag in her mouth, and Janet proceeded to
walk around her.  Janet had not gotten a close look at her before, and she
was distressed to find that the girl had just been recently used.  Fresh
red stripes already decorated her flesh, and Janet wondered if she should
be used again quite so soon.

	Walking back to her audience, she bowed, then stood in front of
Rene.

	"May I have the use of your property?" asked Janet.

	"Of course.  You may use whatever means you desire," said Rene.

	Janet walked back over to Myra.  Her fingertips touched the girl's
trembling skin, feeling the new welts as she traced their paths on her
skin.  She could almost smell the fear that this girl radiated, bound in
her prison of steel and leather.

	Janet slowly unbuckled the ballgag, and it had been tightened so
that when removed the ball almost popped out of Myra's mouth and the strap
left it's cruel imprint on the corners of her mouth.

	"Thank you, Mistress Janet," panted Myra.

	Janet continued inspecting the bound girl, and realizing that she
had already been severely used already, would not impose a harsh discipline
upon her.  It seemed strange to her that Myra had been chosen, since her
capacity for more punishment was already quite limited.  Janet saw a
flogger with broad strands hanging nearby, and decided to use that.

	"Why so conservative, Janet?" asked Lauren.

	"Mistress?"

	"Janet, she's yours to use.  Surely you can find something better
than that flogger," advised Lauren.

	Lauren rose from her chair, walked over, and found a cat.  Made of
many strands like the flogger, except that the tips of each one ended in a
knot.  Janet knew that this would mark Myra and hurt with each stroke.

	"I'll try the whip, instead," chose Janet.

	"Good choice," said Lauren, handing her a slender coiled whip.

	"Do you, Myra, accept my discipline?" asked Janet, standing in
front of her captive.

	"Yes, Mistress," said Myra.

	"Than kiss the handle, and thank me for what you are about to
receive," ordered Janet.

	Myra did as she was instructed, and thanked Janet.  Janet walked
around her once more, trying to decide where she could use the whip on
virgin flesh.  But Myra had already been used before.

	Janet lashed out, and the whip coiled itself around Myra's thighs.
The tip came to rest between her legs, making her flinch.

	"Thank you, Mistress," cried Myra.

	"No need to count," said Janet.

	Janet struck again and again, watching as her new strokes were made
evident on Myra's body.  Her flesh gradually became red and warm, and Janet
could almost feel the heat emanating from her punished figure.

	The whip landed again and again, and Janet would pause between sets
of ten stokes.  She wanted to carefully gauge the effect of her discipline,
and did not want to exceed Myra's capacity.

	"Are you a good girl, Myra?" asked Janet.

	"Yes, Mistress," answered Myra.

	"Let's see now," said Janet.

	Pausing in her use of Myra, Janet then proceeded to pinch Myra's
nipples, then bite them slightly with her teeth, making her squeal with
both pain and delight.  Then her hands rubbed the warm and punished flesh
of Myra's bottom, separating the ass cheeks to glimpse the entry to her
behind.

	Then Janet invaded her sex with just her index finger, and found
that Myra was wet and excited by her ordeal.  Janet ordered her not to cum,
but then proceeded to do everything possible to climax her.  Myra held
fast, but Janet noted the Goosebumps on her flesh.

	"Mistress, no," cried Myra.

	"Silence, slut," ordered Janet.

	Her audience sat in rapt attention, only breaking their interest
when they signaled to Sabrina for a drink.  Janet did not do anything extra
for them that she might have done in her own Dungeon.

	"Oh, oh!" cried Myra.

	"Don't cum!" cautioned Janet.

	In spite of her orders, Myra rocked in her chains as the massive
orgasm overtook her.  She moaned and bucked, and the steel links
reverberated in response.

	"Bad girl," said Janet.

	Janet again picked up the whip, delivering stroke after stroke that
would wrap itself cruelly around Myra's body.  Each time, the tip would
come to rest on her back or behind.  But it between her breasts and legs
that Janet would aim the most strokes, making Myra cry and moan within her
chains.

	Tears ran down Myra's cheeks as the whipping continued, streaking
her makeup.  Janet continued her routine of ten strokes, then a pause to
let the girl rest.  Janet was amazed that she could take so much, given
that she had been already used rather recently.

	"Mercy, Mistress," cried Myra, suddenly, having reached her limit.

	"What was that, slave?" asked Janet as she paused before another
stroke.

	"Mercy, Mistress," plead Myra.

	"Kiss my whip and thank your Mistress," ordered Janet.

	Myra did as she was told, and soon Janet was standing in front of
her female audience.

	"The slave Myra has been soundly punished, and I thank..."

	"What do you think that you're doing?" asked Lauren, anger in her
voice.

	"Slave Myra has called for mercy, and I accept her plea," correctly
answered Janet.

	"Not in my house," said Lauren as she rose from her chair.

	Lauren was carrying a riding crop in her left hand, and she
advanced towards Myra.  Myra shook her chains in fear.

	Lauren was about to deliver a stroke when Janet caught her arm and
held it.  All eyes were upon her.

	"The girl has been soundly used.  The entertainment is done for
this evening," said Janet.

	"It has not.  You're not in your House, Janet, nor Stephanie's.  My
rules apply here, and I say that we're not done with Myra just yet.
Perhaps a few strokes of the cane will bring her around."

	"No!" replied Janet, "you gave her to me for the night.  Since she
is mine, I say that her discipline is over.  By every rule of conduct,"
said Janet.

	"Not here, bitch," said Lauren.

	"I repeat, Myra has called for mercy and her discipline is over,"
said Janet.

	"Then if you will not let me punish her again, then you can take it
in her place.  Surely the great Mistress Janet is capable of accepting
discipline in place of a lowly slave," insulted Lauren.

	The End of Chapter Nine Part One