Tali Topless-Part Two - Tali’s Training

Don came by one afternoon and saw Tali sitting on the couch in a very snug dark blue turtleneck. After Don had hit the skids, Fenton had invited his old friend to stay with him and Tali for a while, and had taught Don the ins and outs of being a Master, and Tali had patiently been the guinea pig for about nine months. Canings, whippings, spankings, floggings, electric play, it had all been tried on her, and Don had also had the pleasure of getting a series of wonderful blowjobs from the kind of woman guys like him never even dreamed of...

At a Tawse Society mixer, Fenton had introduced Don to Skip, a youthful preppie with his own brokerage firm. For Skip, it was love at first sight, and he invited Don to become his full time Master... basically $600 a week to live in and look after the place, which essentially meant sleeping or playing poker all day until Skip got home from work. Then Skip would strip off his Armani suit and silk boxer shorts, don a tutu and do all the housework, while Don supervised, carrying a Barber’s razor strop.

If Don found even a mark while looking under the toilet with a mirror, he would pull down Skip’s tutu and give him between twenty-five and one hundred strokes. When the housework was done, Don would cuff Skip’s hand behind his back and have him kneel in front of Don while Don unlocked the cock cage. Don would then stomp and kick Skip’s genitals for a half hour or so before re-locking the cage without Skip cumming. Then Don would start pulling Skip’s head onto Don’s dick.

Though Don was a heterosexual, and Skip had given Don a platinum card so he could get all the female whores he wanted, Don discovered that Skip had a mouth like velvet and was an even more efficient cocksucker than Tali was. Four or five blowjobs a day, the Swarthmore-educated 27 year old Skip would give Don, who was a fifty year old ex-convict biker on methadone, and Don never had to reciprocate... Now and then, Don would wake up late, and discover Skip had botched one of his morning chores. Don would then drop by Skip’s firm, and listen to him berate his staffers for various incompetencies.

Skip could hand it out, and he often could reduce a secretary to tears with one scathing glance. After a bit, Skip would notice Don, lolling in the doorway to Skip’s office, and his face would perspire, as he knew there were rarely friendly visits. Don would go into the office, and Skip would follow anxiously, muttering excuses, but to no avail. Down would come the pants and heart print panties Don made Skip wear, and there would be one hundred strokes every time -- fifty for the error, and another fifty for making Don come over to the office.

Don would usually variate between a steel paddle, and a viper quirt, kept in Skip’s desk for infractions for the first fifty, and then it was the cricket bat that had belonged to Skip’s British father, it was kept on the wall of the office, and visitors often commented on the little red spots ingraining the wood. Then Don would remove the gag he’d put in Skip’s mouth, because he didn’t want screams of agony to disrupt the production in the outdoor offices..and on his knees, Skip would thank Don in the best way he knew how, for the trouble Don had taken to contribute to Skip’s education.

Sometimes Don would put a hood over Skip’s head and take him to a biker bar, and leave him in the lavatory, with a sign around the young broker’s neck saying "Suck you for $10 -- kick all you like." If Skip failed to earn more than fifty dollars (and he had no idea who was putting cash in the box, and who was stealing it, because the hood covered all but the mouth hole) Don would horsewhip him. However Don, a kinder master than Fenton, so as often as once a week he’d unlock Skip’s cock cage and then attach a chain with a "Y" end for nipple clamps, and then loop the other side around Skip’s cock, so any moving of the body would torture both nipples and testicles. Don would then watch the little bastard jerk off into a shot glass and drink it, and then Skip would usually give Don a huge tip. And now Don had a great life.

"What’s with the turtleneck, Fenton?" Don now asked. "Tali is usually dressed real professional during the week, or she’s here in the house naked." Fenton laughed. "I told Tali that I’d screw her if she let me whip her tits with a branch of nettles at her country place... and now she’s trying to get me to do it today or tomorrow by showing off her breasts in these absurdly tight sweaters. " Don had a quick intake of breath. "Lord, those thorns will tear her right up, Fenton." Fenton the Felon cocked his head. "Yes, perhaps, but it’s a valuable lesson, don’t you think?" She needed valuable lessons, he thought. Tali had beaten Fenton in a Ping-Pong game the night before and then gloated about it... and he certainly enjoyed using the paddle again.

" I heard about the first couple of tests -- the piss one was insane. But nettles?" Don was amazed. Just that morning, Don had given Skip a brutal caning for bringing cold coffee... right now, Skip was chained to an eyehook in their basement dungeon with a paint bucket full of ice hanging from his balls. As the ice melted, the water would pour through a hole into the floor... and Skip’s burden would lessen, he might be quite comfortable by the time Don got home, several hours from now... but nettles? "Jesus, Fenton... Tali has beautiful breasts... do you want to disfigure them?" Fenton poured them each a shot of Glenfiddich.

"Oh, her tits have been through the mill in the last eighteen months... I’ve whipped ‘em, hung them from a wire, thrown darts at them... she’ll be fine, but tit-whipping is good for Tali. First the pain will be excruciating, and she needs that... and secondly, she’s so vain about her lovely breasts... why not let her get them banged up a little? Tali is much too vain.

The other night she was taking me to some moronic Bar Association shindig, I was in a damn monkey suit, and Tali was wearing a strapless dealie, and after she’d finished her makeup, she was just smirking into the mirror. So I made her strip, and arch her back, jutting out her breasts, and I hit her right on the nipples with another marvelous resource from Tali’s willow tree, she fell down grabbing her breasts and moaning..but she forgot how damn good looking she was. The tears streaked the makeup, and she had to put all that crap plus the clothes back on, but we were only fifteen minutes late... and she was humble." Fenton looked quite pleased with himself, pronouncing the last word "huummmble"

********************************************************************

It was a Saturday. Tali pulled the car up into the big driveway of Snowden Hall and Daddy waved. Fenton sighed, and closed his copy of " The Heracleidae". (Fenton had taken the job of chauffer on the condition that he didn’t have to do any driving) Today was the day! The final test! There had been five tests after the urinary ingestion experience with the Senator. Fenton had subjected Tali to having clothespins knocked off her body with his cane while singing, uninterruptedly, "The Way We Were". There had been an enema-holding contest, a horrible game with gerbils up her rectum, the Speculum Survival Tour, and a barely successful attempt to fellate a donkey. This test, was the hardest, but it would be the last..and Tali was trying to keep Fenton in a good mood.

Tali had done the 75 miles to her parent’s country place in complete silence, trying not to brake very hard while Fenton had switched between Euripides and his Greek Lexicon. Tali knew better than to talk or turn the radio on, but on a previous trip Tali had had to swerve to avoid hitting a tractor-trailer that had pulled in front of her, and Fenton had ordered Tali to pull into the next rest area. He’d taken her to an Exxon bathroom, and pulled up her skirt and dropped her panties and given her fifty quick ones with the rubber hose he kept in the front, and then made Montgomery Couny’s leading prosecutor kneel in her new stockings on the filthy, urine-stained floor in her new stockings and suck him to two or three orgasms.

Usually when Tali was with Fenton, she didn’t have to wear the chastity corset, he would simply time her when she went to the bathroom, however today she wore a simple belt, the Iron Maiden. Her breasts were needed for this test, sadly.

Colonel Snowden greeted Tali with a big hug, leading her into the house as Fenton followed behind, meditating on Medea. All that girl had needed was a good caning, too. Fenton sighed, and dropped Euripides and the Lexicon back in his shoulder bag, and then wincing, took Tali’s bag up to her childhood bedroom, a monstrosity of stuffed animals make-up mirrors, and of course a pink canopy bed. Good God, is that a poster of Elton John? Revolting. Fenton,Jr. had grown up comfortably in a house like this, spoiled to death by his mother and stepfather, both appellate judges. Though FJ had taken his father’s path, (where he met even more judges) he was a happier person than either his father or half-sister, as his memories were of prep schools and sailing lessons, instead of his sister’s experiences with food stamps, and dropping buckets of paint on a nosy parole officer from a tenement window.

Fenton looked into Tali’s closet, where he’d once found letters from Master Aubrey, Tali’s first real master. Tali’s pocket money had been such that she could steal a weekend away from Miss Porter’s School to fly to Master Aubrey’s trailer park two hundred miles away. There, she gave Master Aubrey his own allowance, and spent the weekend being caned, strapped and tortured, often being forced to run through the trailer park with Master Aubrey behind her, swinging the strap rapidly. The residents loved seeing the beautiful seventeen year old’s swaying breasts as she made a beeline for an outdoor Jiffy John, where she’d lock the door until Master Aubrey calmed down again. Then he would sit on her back, and the naked girl would pony-ride Master Aubrey (who was light, as he was a midget) back to his trailer for a good thrashing from Master’s Hog Slapper, a 12 foot plaited leather thing with rubber strips on the end, and then of course Heather would take the redeye back to school, where she’d enjoy mixers, parties, and horseback riding.

Fenton thought again of Heather, who had been given up for adoption by her mother quickly to avoid scandal. A prison doctor having an affair with an convict was scary, especially when said convict was regularly whipping the Eastern Correctional Institution’s staff physician with a rubber hose. After Fenton had been paroled, he’d spirited the infant Heather out of the window of the same orphanage he’d grown up in, and raised her himself. Except of course, when there had been a misunderstanding about an armored truck (Fenton had been honestly after the truck, not the money inside) and Fenton had gone off to Lewisburg, and for those fifty-two months, Heather had resided in Cousin Fremont the Artist’s basement studio, where the little girl had helped Cousin to dry the sheets of well painted fifty-dollar bills. Fenton had left a lively, imaginative 8 year old, and come back to a pudgy, cynical adolescent, who would work her way through private school by answering the phones in Daddy’s chop shop. No, the poor thing had not had a easy life.

At lunch, Fenton watched Tali flirt with her indulgent father. "Do you know, boy that Tali has never been spanked?" Colonel Snowden squeezed Tali’s hand as he spoke to Fenton. Tali winced, not over Daddy’s misapprehension, but of what was to come. Fenton would give Tali twenty strokes with her younger brother’s fraternity paddle for every time the Colonel called him "boy". "Boy, do you know, boy, that Natalia had her first checking account -- her OWN, when she was eight, Boy? This prepared her for her first Platinum card, Boy. Tali wanted it early, but, you know, Boy I felt she had to at least have started seventh grade before she went out shoppin’! Yes, Boy, and I thought Tali should have a sports-utility-vehicle to get around, they seem safer, but she wanted a convertible, Boy, so we compromised and gave her both, Boy! Then little Princess’ Grandma got her a BMW... Then, when Natalia was eighteen, Boy, she wanted a single-engine plane,Boy and I said... "

Fenton sat calmly, used to this barrage, and wondered if Heather was going to be early. He’d told her to arrive here by eleven, but already it was noon. Heather was excitedly looking forward to Tali’s first test. Her enthusiasm was frightening, but this Outward Bound-ish experience might give Heather the enthusiasm and confidence to go back to college, and perhaps lose some weight. He looked at Tali fondly. Oh, my little girl... "Boy! Are you part-Jewish?" Colonel Snowden demanded. "That nose of yours... well it looks like the side of a house, it’s so big." "Yes sir." Fenton responded with a ghostly smile. "Jewish looks without the money."

Tali and Fenton went into the cold sunshine after lunch. They crossed into the back woods of the Colonel’s place and came upon the nettle bush. "Well here we are" Tali said uneasily. "You know, Tali," Fenton said with a smile, "the Latin name for stinging nettles is Urtica Dioica, coming from the Latin word Uro, which means ‘I burn’ Isn’t that interesting?" Tali nodded, her shoulders quivering. Tali was shivering slightly because she had neglected to wear her parka.

Tali wanted to ensure that Fenton could see her bobbing breasts in the tight sweater, up until it was time for the nettle flogging. She knew he might change his mind -- Fenton had promised Tali that if she completed this last test, and allowed her master to flog her breasts with nettles from her father’s stinging nettle tree, he would make love to her, and this was her dream... all those forbidden masturbation sessions... Fenton was a sound sleeper, and Tali quite often would take his key, and unlock her belt, and take out her secret vibrator, and dream of finally getting her thrill.

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Page last updated 04-Jun-115 by: Altairboy@aol.com