training complete

More training followed.

First their was lessons on practical skills a **** girl needed to have, such as how to dance, how to better please a man (or a woman) Joanna practiced hard on all three skills, learning the fine art of stripping, belly dancing and pole dancing, then going on to have sex with a succession of partners, each one teaching her more and more how to make love properly.

When that was done the program taught her about the punishments she’d face if she was disobedient, which ran from spanking (which Joanna now actually enjoyed) too more serious punishments such as being caned, and then being **** onto a wooden pony.

The pony was a plan of wood suspending just high enough so that when it was between Joanna’s legs she’d have to be on tiptoe to avoid it pushing into her painfully. She was tied to the device, and her legs tied to the floor, her hands tied behind her back.

A smirking woman in a black leather mask, corset and boot carrying a whip instructed her on the punishment. “This is the punishment for **** girls who are especially bad, or for when their masters are especially bored” she laughed.

“Mistress, I can’t stand up much longer!” Joanna gasped.

“Good.” The dominatrix smirked, watching as Joanna slowly became exhausted, and finally lowered herself, onto the wooden beam. The pain was awful and Joanna immediately tried to raise herself up again, only to find the ropes had contracted, keeping her down.

The pain made Joanna gasp, but she knew that if she was disobedient this was what she deserved, so it felt good as well. Joanna shuddered on the plank and then realised she had become a masochist. She hoped this didn’t make her want to get punished too much.

That simulation vanished, followed by another; Joanna somehow knew she was almost through training. This time she was tied up watching others have sex, dozens of men and women having what looked like a fantastic orgy. Joanna ached to be with them, but she was held, watching but unable to move.

It went on and on, Joanna’s sex aching with desire, her own need becoming more painful than the wooden pony had been. The Slaver’s voice whispered in her ear “Joanna, tell me why you exist”

Joanna shivered “To serve master!” she gasped.

“Good girl.” Joanna’s world whited out in a massive orgasm.

Outside the simulation, Joanna had been stripped off her dress. Each Angel was being washed of the sweat they’d got due to all the simulated sex, and several robotic arms were busy making a few modifications to the new **** girls.

First, rings were inserted into each girl’s nipples. They could be turned to allow milk to flow freely but mostly they’d prevent the newly milky slaves from spraying everywhere if they weren’t supposed to. Second, tattooing arms worked on them, each girl gained a lower back tattoo of a pair of angel wings and a neat barcode across her buttocks.

Finally, they were pulled forward for storage, each girl put into a small case with its own life support machinery, vibrator and milking machine. The cases would keep the women alive and well fed, even exercising their muscles through small induction rigs storing them conveniently until they were needed.

In Joanna’s case, her VR system began to play her a pleasing series of hypnotic colours to reinforce her training, the former sergeant drooling slightly into her mask. She was well and truly a **** now.