New America

Chapter 3 — Failure to please

by JayInkwell

Tags: #cw:noncon #cw:sexual_assault #dom:male #f/m #pov:bottom #sub:female #attempted_rescue #bdsm #betrayal #blowjob #bondage #clothing #conditioning #conspiracy #contemporary #cruel_punishment #D/s #degradation #discipline #enslavement #femsub #gender_traitor #human_trafficking #humiliation #Hypnosis #hypnosis #hypnotized #manipulation #marriage #miniskirt #misogyny #modern #noncon_sexual_situations #obedience #obedience_training #oral_sex #outfits #prostitution #sadomasochism #science_fantasy #scifi #sexual_slavery #short_skirt #slave #slavery #Slavery #slaves #spanking #submission #Technology #technology_with_hypnosis #training #virgin #women_for_sale
See spoiler tags : #bad_end #good_end_for_dom

After a few minutes I pulled myself together. I had to provide good service or I would never escape. I checked the schedule. I only had 30 minutes to clean up. I cleaned up and prepared myself for my next client.

At my next appointment time a new man entered. He was in his fifties, bald, and obese. His tummy rolled over and out of his untucked shirt. He stank like he hadn’t bathed in days.

I stared for a moment. Was I really supposed to have sex with this gross man? I had a primal desire to serve men and a promise to keep. These were warring with my instinctive disgust. Fear gripped me. I needed to serve him.

I knelt and asked, “How may I please you, sire?” I tried to wear a pleasant face. His disgusting odor made it hard for me to fake a smile. I held my breath. I pursed my lips into an approximation of a smile.

He responded with derision. “Cunt, I’m going to sit on this bed. Suck me off there.”

I didn’t like the sound of this at all. His body odor drifted by me. I held down a desire to retch. “Yes, sire.”

The man waddled to my bed and sat down. The bed creaked down as he put his massive ass on it.

I got up and walked to stand in front of him. I knelt again. My face was now directly facing his distended belly. I reached under his belly and up again to get to his belt. By feel I managed to unbutton his pants, unbuckle his belt, and pull down his zipper. I felt behind his zipper and discovered he wasn’t wearing underpants. My hand instead directly encountered his sweaty cock and balls. His penis was large and flaccid.

He sneered. “Cunt, get sucking.”

I wasn’t sure how I could do this. I couldn’t see his cock at all. His overweight tummy covered his cock. I bent down and pushed up his tummy with my head. He spread his legs further to let me in. A sudden draft of long-unwashed body odor poured into my nostrils. I briefly gagged and my eyes teared. I coughed involuntarily. I held my breath. I didn’t dare stop. I massaged his sweaty cock with both of my hands.

He grumbled. “Get sucking. I better not need to tell you again.”

I opened my mouth and swallowed his cock. Even without breathing, his pungent smells were disgusting. I coughed again. I began sucking. I did need to breathe. I deep-throated once. Only once. The smells from his unwashed cock hairs were even more repulsive. My stomach threatened to vomit. I changed tack and instead sucked and stroked the top half of his penis. His penis began engorging.

After ten minutes of sucking on the top half of his cock he came into my mouth. His cum tasted like sour bleach. I swallowed, as seemed to be expected. I was relieved I’d managed to do the job. I pulled my head out from under his stomach. I pursed my lips to avoid showing my distaste. While still kneeling, I looked into his eyes and did my best to give him a look of reverence.

He looked down in disgust. “Cunt, that’s the worst blow job I’ve ever had. You’ve been trained. That’s all you can do? I’m going to report how badly you did. You need to do better.”

That sounded bad. “I’m so sorry, sire! I’m a foolish girl, nothing more. Please let me please you, sire.”

“No, I think I’ll ask for another girl. You clearly don’t know how to please a real man.”

“I’m so sorry, sire!”

He ignored my plea. He wordlessly stood and started dressing.

I remembered what Jenny had said. While still on my knees I added, “Thank you for the opportunity to serve you, sire.”

“Serve me? No, you failed to serve me. Maybe you’ll eventually be good enough to serve a man. You don’t know how to serve men.”

He finished putting his pants back on and left my bedroom. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. This couldn’t be good.


I cleaned myself up. Once I was ready for my next client, I worried. I knelt down facing the curtain, in case my next client entered early.

Jenny entered my bedroom. I looked up in relief. I needed a friend. An ally. I felt so lonely and helpless. Jenny would understand my fears.

When I read her face, my heart skipped a beat. Her face was fury itself. Jenny’s eyes tried to cut me in half with disapproval.

She spoke in a venomous whisper, “You STUPID BITCH! What did you DO?!”

I was confused by her tone. I stammered to explain, “A gross fat man was here. He told me to suck on his cock. I did suck him off…”

Jenny slapped me harshly across my face. “Erin, you’re a fucking idiot. Mark told you. You have to cooperate. Here women utterly devote themselves to pleasing men. You didn’t adequately please your client. He’s reported his displeasure. You don’t have any idea what happens next, do you, you stupid cunt?”

“No. Is it bad?”

“Oh, it’s bad you twat. Soon all the prostitutes in this wing will be caned. Yes, including me. We’ll all be told it’s because of your failure to please a man. You’re about to be wildly unpopular with every woman here. Even worse, the caning will take a while. So Mark and Sven can’t sneak us out soon. They will have to reschedule our escape. Hopefully they’ll find another time today.”

“Look, I’m really sorry…”

Jenny slapped me again. Hard.

Shut it. Say your useless words to an idiot who would listen. The only thing that makes me happy is knowing you’re going to get it worse than the rest of us. You deserve it, too.”

I felt I had to try to justify myself. I opened my mouth to begin. Jenny readied a mighty backhand. I slammed my mouth shut.

Jenny angrily whispered, “Let’s go over the word of the day, shall we? Co-op-er-ate. Cooperate. Cooperate or we’ll never escape. Mark and Sven are in jeopardy, too. They’re risking their lives. You need to cooperate. Do everything to please the men. Make sure there’s no reason for them to suspect anything. If you screw this up again we may never escape. It may be too late now.”

I whispered, “I will, I will! I promise!”

Jenny whispered back with a snarl, “Wing Mother Beth will be here in a few minutes to tell you the bad news. Address her as ma’am and promise you’ll work harder. Be respectful. If you piss her off, she’ll ensure your schedule includes the most sadistic men in the universe.”

Jenny waited for my acknowledgment. I nodded.

Jenny angrily added, “Don’t screw up anything else.” Jenny left.

Five minutes later a tall thin woman in her sixties appeared. She wore a simple black dress and a disapproving look.

“Eva, Eva, Eva,” she said with disappointment. “Do you know why I’m here?”

I saw no advantage to denying it. “Yes, ma’am. I think so. I disappointed a man.”

“Oh, you more than disappointed him. You failed to provide even the basics of service. You have utterly failed to meet your vows. Your failures were egregious. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Your behavior was shameful. As punishment, all the prostitutes in this wing will be caned. Each of them will be informed you were the cause. You yourself will be paddled as well as caned. Uncle will discipline you himself. I suggest you fully submit and demonstrate your contrition. Once you’ve been disciplined I expect better behavior.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll do better, ma’am.”

Wing Mother Beth seemed satisfied. She turned and left.

A man in his forties entered when she left. I guessed he must be “Uncle.” He was clearly in good shape. He wore a gray collar shirt, red tie, slacks, and dress shoes. He carried a bag in his left hand. He walked with an air of total authority. I felt a strong urge to please and obey him.

Uncle commanded, “Eva, strip and kneel.”

“Yes, sire.” I obeyed. He sat down on the bed.

“Eva, lay yourself across my lap.”

“Yes, sire,” I said. I felt a sudden urge to obey. It didn’t matter. It would be foolish to resist now. So I again obeyed. I went over his knees, with my bare ass exactly where he could beat it. My torso dangled on his side.

I heard a rustling sound as Uncle retrieved something from the bag. I turned to see. He retrieved a large wooden paddle. It was thick with multiple holes drilled into it.

I couldn’t remember ever being disciplined. My parents bribed me if they wanted me to do something. Candy, money, or a new outfit, that’s how they tried to convince me to do something. I wasn’t sure what to do in this circumstance. I’d tricked men in the past. I decided on a plan. I would act like it hurt, drop a few tears, and we’d be done. Right? I faced forward and prepared.

Uncle said, “We’ll start with 36 strokes of the paddle.”

Wait. Did he say thirty-six? Wasn’t that a lot of strokes?

Uncle raised his hand high and struck my ass hard with the paddle. The pain was far worse than I expected. I screamed and instinctively rolled away, while pulling my hand back to protect my ass.

He grunted. “I’m disappointed. You know you’re not allowed to resist or protect your ass. That stroke doesn’t count. Let’s try again.”

Oh, god. I’d disappointed a man. Even worse, a man with authority over me. Doubly worse, I’d disappointed him during my own discipline session. My mind somehow knew disobeying a man with authority during a discipline session was worse than death itself. I got back into position. I guilelessly begged, “I’m so sorry sire!”

Uncle raised his hand high and again struck my ass hard with the paddle. I let out another scream. I couldn’t help myself. Tears welled from my eyes. My tears dripped straight from my eyes down to the floor I was facing. I breathed in and out, in an attempt to calm down.

Uncle grunted again with disapproval. “I see you’ve forgotten how to count. After each stroke you must give me the count. You failed to do so, so we are starting over. Again. After the next stroke you will say one. Do you understand?”

My ass still hurt. This did not look good. I replied through tears, “ow, ow, oh, oh yes, sire.”

He raised his hand high. He brought the paddle down with terrible force. I felt the paddle flatten my bare ass and transform it into fire.

“ONE!” I screamed.

“That’s better.” He brought the paddle high. He flattened my ass again with all his might.

“TWOOOO!!” I screamed. He continued his paddling.

“THREE!” “FOUR!” “FIVE!”

He continued to paddle me hard. I screamed out the count. My ass burned ever hotter. My tears flowed. No pretending was involved.

“10! 11! 12!”

He continued to bruise my butt. I continued to count. On each stroke I was sure my ass couldn’t hurt more. On each stroke I was proven wrong.

“33! 34! 35! 36!”

My ass felt like a roaring fire.

Uncle said, “go to the corner. Stare into it. Don’t touch your ass. Put your hands behind your head instead.”

I went to the corner. I put my hands behind my head and obediently began my corner time.

Uncle said, “Now remind yourself to be obedient and submissive to men at all times. I will be back in about 30 minutes to finish the job.”

Uncle left. I stayed in position. I was terrified of receiving another stroke. I wished he would let me rub my blazing butt. I didn’t dare disobey him. I began hearing, from outside my room, the screaming of women being brutally caned. I knew I would soon share their fate. For me the caning would start with my ass on fire. I knew my punishment was my fault. Worse, the other women knew their punishment was my fault.

Uncle finally returned. He commanded, “Put your hands on the wall. Make a right angle with your waist. Spread your legs far apart. Stand on your toes.”

I awkwardly moved into position. A feeling of dread washed over me once I was fully in position. My tits dangled below my nude torso. My ass still felt as if it was on fire.

He showed me a long wooden cane. The cane was thick. I feared it. He tapped my nose with it. My nose hurt more than I expected.

Uncle almost giggled. “You’ll receive 24 strokes with the cane. That’s 24 of the best on your bare bottom. Don’t you dare move out of position. Maybe you can remember to count this time?”

“Yes, sire,” I responded miserably.

He moved into position. He brought the cane far back. He soon let loose with all his strength.

“AAAAAHHHHH!”, I screamed, as the cane connected to my deeply bruised bottom. Once I could think at all, I added, “ONE!” I feared I would receive extra strokes.

“Good,” said Uncle. “Let’s see if I can make you lose count.”

Lose count? Oh god, I could see how I could lose count. It was increasingly hard to think of anything except my raging butt. I steeled myself for his next blow. In a short time I received another.

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

“FOOOOUR!!”

I could feel welts forming along the cuts he was creating. He kept applying his discipline. I kept counting.

“10! 11! 12!”

I looked briefly at his face. He seemed to enjoying himself. I faced the wall again as he continued to bruise my butt.

“20! 21! 22! 23! 24!”

I stayed in position after the last stroke. He hadn’t permitted me to move. My ass was a volcano of pain. Tears dripped down my face. I didn’t dare do anything. Any action might encourage him to discipline me further. I looked back at Uncle.

“Good,” said Uncle, “I hope you’ve started to learn your lesson. I had to take time out of my busy schedule to discipline you for your failures. Kneel. Thank me for teaching you.”

I knelt in front of him. Anger began to seep into me. Did he really expect me to thank him? I hadn’t done anything wrong! I… I looked at his hand. He still held the cane. My courage vanished. I instantly changed my attitude.

“Sire, yes, thank you so much for disciplining me. I deserved to be disciplined. I am so sorry I failed everyone.”

Uncle nodded his acceptance. He replied, “We will now need to change your schedule. I know exactly what you’ll be doing next. One of our clients is especially challenging to service. You will be servicing him next, to demonstrate your commitment to your vows. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sire,” I tearfully replied.

“Good,” he replied. He smiled the smile of a man who delighted in causing women pain. I feared his smile.

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