Author Unknown

Illustrations by Robert Bishop

Scanned and Transcribed by guardian46w

CHAPTER THREE

It was a week after Jack Brandon had first seen arrogant red haired Myrna Gentry at his uncle's bank, and had already made his plans to subject her to bondage discipline.  He sensed, even from his first appraisal of her, that for all her insolence and physical poise, she inwardly had the latent psyche of a slave, who, once shackled by a dominant master whom she could not flout or deride, would find masochistic pleasure in those shackles and accept her intended destiny as a beautiful slave girl whose spoiled, selfish bearing represented the misdirected course of girlhood and young womanhood and presented all the more a tempting challenge to a master of bondage and subjugation like himself.

First, it was necessary to bring her unsuspectingly to his remodeled house, to be able to introduce her to the bondage devices and paraphernalia with which the spacious basement dungeon had been so completely furnished.  All his fantasies were embodied therein, but till now he had never had so tempting and desirable a female slave candidate to experiment upon.  Yet from his experiences with Celestine and Corinne, he felt unwaveringly sure of his ability to make magnificent Myrna bow her haughty head, make that rich vibrant contralto voice choke with sobs of shame and penitence and falter the formula of ritualistic submission: "Master, I am your obedient slave."

But since Myrna had almost made a scene at Jason Murfree's desk to acquire her inheritance in a lump sum, Jack decided to lure(sic) that as the lure to entice Myrna to his house.  So, on Thursday evening, having obtained her telephone number from his uncle's files, he dialed her number and soon heard her affectatiously, haughty, throaty contralto: "This is Myrna Gentry speaking."

"Miss Gentry, I'm from the bank, calling on behalf of Mr.  Murfree."

"Oh, yes!  About my inheritance, is it?  I'm glad he changed his mind, I knew he could if he only wanted to.  Well, when do I get it?"

Very soon, you, beautiful heartless selfish bitch, Jack smiled to himself.  Aloud, he said, "You'll have to sign a paper authorizing his withdrawal of the funds, Miss Gentry.  My name's Jack Brandon, I'm his nephew in charge of such matters.  But you see, I'm leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow morning, so I wonder if it would be asking too much for you to come to my house this evening?  That will give me a chance to have all the documents drawn up for you to sign, and then, on my way to the airport, I'll stop off at the bank, leave them with my uncle, and you should get yours by Monday at the latest." And you will get yours, every bit that's coming to you, sweetheart, Jack grinned to himself.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she exhaled a happy sigh.  "Of course, I'll be glad to come to your house—what's the address?" He told her, and she offered, "Would seven be all right?"

"Perfect, Miss Gentry.  I'll have had my supper by then." Yes, and primed to take you on and give you your first lesson in how to act in the presence of your future lord and master, you, sultry sexy tall Amazonian redhead, he thought with keen anticipation.

At seven, he was ready and waiting.  He had put on a black ski mask, through whose slits his cold blue eyes were seen, and his thin lips through another slit; he wore slacks, sneakers and polo shirt, and no underwear, to be free in his movements .  .  .  and, when the propitious time came, to be able to liberate his manhood for the degrading but coerced submissive homage Myrna Gentry would be obliged to pay it—or suffer the painful and distressingly shameful consequences!

The doorbell rang, and he flung open the door.  Myrna, dressed in a floral print summery frock which left her beautiful long arms almost bare, in black nylons held up by white garter belt tabs, and high heeled pumps, recoiled with a cry of startled alarm: "Ohh—who—oh my God—"

"Stop it!  What are you doing?  How dare you, oww, my wrists—you're hurting me—you lied to me—you'll go to jail for attacking me—"

"Correction, Myrna.  I'm not attacking you, I'm preparing you for your first very badly needed lesson in humility," he chuckled.

"OHH!  YOU—YOU!" she raged, unable to find words to voice her furious indignation, and attempted to rise.

"Stay as you are, it becomes you, Myrna," he shoved her down by the shoulders, his left hand gripping the scruff of her lovely neck.  "Now, are you ready to acknowledge yourself my slave, and do you promise to obey your master?"

"OHH!  YOU—YOU INSUFFERABLE BRUTE!  YOU MUST BE INSANE!  WILL YOU STOP THIS RIDICULOUS NONSENSE?  UNTIE ME THIS INSTANT—OWVVWWW YOU—YOU S—STRUCK ME!"

For, calmly, with his right palm, he had applied a noisy stinging slap to her pale-creamy left cheek, leaving a flaming imprint, and Myrna Gentry, who had never before in all her young pampered existence, been subjected to as much as an unkind word, uttered a shriek of disbelief and tried wildly to rise.

"I see you'll need a good deal of education in your new occupation, Myrna dear," he mocked her, applying a second slap on her other cheek.

"You—you're insane—to treat me like this—oh, you just wait—oww!" she squealed as, plunging the fingers of his left hand into her bobbed coppery-red hair, he began to drag her towards the hallway and thence down the narrow stairway leading to the remodeled cellar—which was to be Myrna's subjugation chamber in which she would abdicate from her regal throne of lording it over the luckless male, and, instead, come to her knees piteously and potentially to beg pardon for her flouting of the rightful master of her spoiled flesh and psyche.  And, to add insult to injury and to demean her even now as the prelude to his calculated conquest of this beautiful arrogant young Amazon, Jack Brandon applied from time to time stinging slaps with his open right palm against the jouncing globes of her virgin posterior, drawing cries of rage and baffled fury from the fuming, stupefied beauty, who, though outwardly acclaimed as a society debutante, was about to embark on a different debut altogether: one in which she would make her apprenticeship as a slave-candidate via bondage discipline to a skilled and tireless master!