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Review This Story || Author: Jack R

Submissive Wives Academy of Training

Part 3

SUBMISSIVE WIVES ACADEMY OF TRAINING

Chapter Three First Morning


The thunderclap came quickly after the flash of lightning, and Jan knew it had struck nearby.  Gad, she thought, here we are in a metal pen right beside a tall metal light pole. Perfect.  Crawling through shit would have to be a better fate than a bolt of lightning up the ass, she almost laughed to herself, since “lightning up the ass” was exactly what the corncob buttplug soaked in hot sauce still felt like. 

       Sudden gusts blew a fierce wind through the pen, sending chills along Jans aching back and thighs.  Another clap of thunder and blazing white lightning was followed by the rain, which seemed to break loose right over the pen, coming down in cold torrents.  Jan shivered as she felt the bodies on either side of her reacting to frigid water dripping over them.  Jan got her hands up in front of her face, cupping the rainwater, splashing it over her face and onto the clumps in her hair.  She tried drinking a bit, but then remembered how filthy and caked her hands were with mud, shit and sand.  She tried to raise her head, open-mouthed to catch some rain but there wasnt enough room in the cage to get her head back.  She settled for cleaning off her hands by running them through her hair and then cupping them to catch what clean rainwater she could.

       The storm stopped almost as quickly as it had started, followed by a low breeze that chilled them even more.  Somewhere down the line Jan heard sobs and whimpers.

Light flashed on in their eyes and an unseen loudspeaker bellowed: “Youll all get something to cry about if I hear so much as another breath of it!”  The light remained on for a moment, and then blinked out, leaving them once again in total darkness.  Bodies shifted in the cramped quarters and Jans teeth were chattering.


       Jan must have gotten some sleep because she dreamed she was back home in bed with Dave. He nudged her from a light sleep and by reflex she scooted down between his legs and began sucking his cock as she did any time he woke her.  She felt him yank her head as he facefucked her, shoving his dick straight to the back of her throat and slapping her hands away from touching him.  Hands on ankles, cunt, she heard him say.  That just got you an extra five for breakfast.  Jan was startled by the ear-splitting shriek of a refs whistle followed by an almost familiar bellow.

       “Sunrise, lazy creatures, sunrise! Up and outta there, now!” followed by another blast from the whistle.  The gate opened behind the eight women, still shivering in the damp morning chill.  They eased out of the cramped pen as another whistle screamed above their heads.  “UP!  Standing at attention in Position One1” came the command.

       Jan took the position in the middle of the line and she recognized the familiar voice as the large woman who had greeted her at the warehouse.  Crap, Jan thought, was that just last night?  It seemed like it could have been a week ago. The woman flexed her broad shoulders and adjusted her sports bra top, shaking her massive breasts and revealing generous cleavage.  She wore black calf-length spandex tights over the very round curves of her ass and a wide silver belt cinched in the voluptuous curve of her waist.  She looked to be wearing a fringed skirt of some kind with an uneven hem, and then Jan realized that it was not a skirt but a collection of various floggers clipped to her belt. 

       They were in several colors, lengths and textures some with wide black plaits and white stitching, some in softer buckskin in two different lengths, a mean looking mass of brown rope in braids with a penis-shaped handle, and dangling over her crotch were two matching cat-o-nine-tails, each of black nylon cord with knots along each tail and short handles with wrist straps.

       “I am Sister Flogger,” she announced,  “not that it matters to you less than shit things who dont speak.  But these girls of mine will speak to you, wont they?” she grinned as she took a chocolate-brown flogger in each hand and gave each a playful swing circled behind the group.  “Position Four, now!” she yelled as each of the eight snapped down into the Quad stance. 

       Jan heard the strands hit some of the others, along with muffled grunts, then she felt the stroke fall across the fullness of her ass and exposed cunt, once, twice and three times before moving on.  She felt the corncob butt plug shift in her rectum and realized that she had practically forgotten it was there.  Her anus felt totally numb, but her intestines were rumbling and then the cramps started.  Damn, she thought, when will I get that thing out of me?

       “Shake those butts and ring those bells,” Sister Flogger sang as she pranced along the line, laying her implements on thighs and backs, crisscrossing them and alternating forehand and back.  Jan thought for moment that the shit in her bowels was going to back all the way out her throat with the cramps and the new burning sensations that movement must have caused.  “Lets have a little more music before we remove the bells, eh?”

       Jan saw Sister Floggers black high top sneakers in front of her and the womans thighs were on each side of her head with her hand on Jans back as she suddenly felt the butt plug jerked from her ass.  “ NO shitting without permission!” she heard another voice as she joined Sister Flogger.  It was the thin birdlike woman from the warehouse reception team.  She moved behind the line, dragging a bundle of fresh birch branches along each ass as she did.   Flogger brought the corncob to Jans face and bumped it against her lips, obviously demanding an open mouth.  As Jan opened, the cob was jammed sideways between her jaws like a bit gag.  The taste of shit and hot peppers both rolled down her throat as she struggled to hold the vile gag.

       “Everyone hold that butt plug and remember no shitting until I say so!” the woman called out. “Now, all of you stand up in Position Two!”  Jan clenched her butt muscles, trying to hold her guts in as the cramps pushed at her.  Of course the posture of bent and spread legs made it even worse, but what else should she expect?  “Display those tits, pinched hard and pulled up high!” the woman screamed, swinging her birch bundle at each quivering belly as she passed in review.

“Now, form up a nice tight circle,” Sister Flogger said, pulling the first two women into a curving line as Sister Birches herded the others to follow around into a circle, tightening it up so that the fingers pinching tits were brushing the shoulder blades in front of each subject.  “Now, hands on shoulders, and SQUAT!” came the command.

As they squatted, there were small squeals of pain mixed with rumbling guts and stinky farts.  “Now, when I blow the whistle once, you will each place hands beneath the ass in front of you and commence to shit.  When I blow it twice, you will stop the shit flow immediately.  Understood?”  Flogger took the whistle in her mouth, took a deep breath and then stopped abruptly.  Jan caught herself from letting her aching sphincter go at just the last instant but she felt a warm dribble from the big brunette with the big tits in front of her as her ass let go. 

Sister Birches pulled a wicked-looking thin rod from a sheath at her belt and ran over to give the woman a vicious under cut stroke on the hips, just missing Jans fingers curled under the ass. The whistle blew and each woman finally let go as stinking piles of shit came rolling out  “Spill it, youll eat it for breakfast,” Sister Birch yelled over the chorus of gassy farts and clenched teeth gasping around the corncob butt plugs.  The whistle blew twice as each struggled to stop the flow that brought the first relief any had felt in hours.

“Rub hands across the ass, up and down the back, and wipe them off in the hair,” Flogger commanded, as the circle complied.  “Clean them off good in that hair, and when the whistle blows, then back to shitting,” she continued.  “Hands clean?  Never mind, just SHIT!”  The whistle blew and Jan reached back under the round ass just as a runny mass of turds cascaded from the woman in front.  She felt her own butt expelling what seemed like a bucketful.  There was pressure from the hand under her butt and the other hand smearing shit up all over her body, then changing hands to keep the awful flow from dripping to the ground.  Jan did the same, reaching up over and around the mounded ass cheeks smearing shit over a surprisingly defined torso and even up to the tits then grabbing back down when she felt the big butt flexing on her hand.

The whistle blew twice again and they were all panting, trying to breathe, but all seemed somewhat relieved.  Each kept her hands cupped under the ass in front, rubbing it up over hips so as not to lose any.  “Thats right, hold that precious shit,” Sister Flogger smirked.  “Compared to you, even the shit I command from your ass is more valuable than the whole batch of you combined.  Now everybody up, Position Two, cradle that shit in the tits, and spread it so you dont lose a precious bit of it.  Now!”

Jan groaned inwardly, choking back the urge to vomit, still holding the corncob in her mouth as she got to her feet, legs spread, knees bent and brought her cupped hands up to her breasts.  She smeared the double handful of stinking crap over them, onto her neck and armpits, then lifted her tits in presentation, glancing down quickly, hoping not too see any crap on the ground between her feet. 

“Time for a little PT, or physical training,” Sister Birch announced.  “But first, everybody turn to the left, step back one step, then down into Position Five, and clean up every tiny scrap of shit you see.”  Jan dropped to knees and elbows, scraping up the stuff in front of her into a little pile, still holding the corncob in her mouth.  “Remove the butt plugs and toss them into the center of the circle.” Jan couldnt wait to get that thing out of her mouth.  But then Sister Birches continued.  “Now, you can worship those lovely little shit piles properly.  Touch your lips down and kiss that shit, rub those noses in it, and then smear the rest lovingly on those butt-ugly faces.”

As the group followed orders, Sister Birches stepped over to one side, scribing a line with her evil little rod. “Up! Position Two! Clean those filthy hands in those scraggly cunt hair patches,” she snapped, “then let me see those cunt lips pulled wide open”

Sister Flogger joined in, “Now over here and line up on this mark” pointing to the line in the dirt. “Move it now!”  They waddled to the line, each holding her lips wide open as they did.  As Jan passed Flogger, she knew she would be feeling a stroke right up the middle of her snatch.  She wasnt surprised when it came but she was surprised that it was the “cat” with the knotted cords that struck her, stinging her knuckles along with her tender pussy lips.  Flogger had a broad grin on her face as she looked at Jan and swung the cat against the wobbling ass of the older woman with the platinum hair.


Physical training was tough, Army tough, as Jan had heard it called.  There were the usual jumping jacks, deep knee bends, sit-ups and pushups, then more deep knee bends held into a “duck walk” across the compound to a graveled path.  “Line up again, and let me see another set of sit-ups,” Flogger commanded as they felt the sharp rocks of the gravel on their backs and asses.  After another 25 sit-ups, it was time for pushups.  They were allowed to do them with knees on the ground and feet pulled up, but they had to hold position on the lower end, with arms and shoulders straining.  Flogger liked to walk on those shoulder blades, forcing tits into the sharp gravel and then demanding they get back into position as she stomped over each back.

Then came time for the dreaded leg lifts.  Each had to keep legs straight, knees locked, sometimes tight together, sometimes spread wide, but the worst was having to hold them inches above the ground and remain in that position as thighs quivered and ass muscles dug into the gravel, trying not to erupt into spasms.  Sweat dripped off their bodies in the growing heat of morning.  Well, at least some of the shit is coming off, Jan said to herself, trying to rub some of it away with the sweat that pooled between her thighs. 

“Thirsty Ill bet?” Sister Flogger asked playfully.  “Well, lets all get properly hydrated then, shall we?  Everybody up, run to the trough by the gold flag, now!”  They struggled to stand then took off across the compound toward a flag waving in the distance.  The rocks were sharp against their feet but not nearly as painful as Sister Birches fresh birches.  Jan was at the head of the pack as she came to the “trough,” which seemed to be a length of dented rain gutter that had fallen off a barn somewhere.  Sister Birches picked up a rusty bucket sitting at the end of the trough and poured from it.

The stench of stale piss wafted up as she yelled, “Down on all fours, and slurp that swill!”  The shape of the trough forced them to lap with their tongues, getting whatever liquid they could, as Birches came back by, pouring more salty piss over their heads and splashing it into the trough.

       “On your backs now, Position Six, legs spread wide,” Flogger called.  Great, more leg spreading and holding, Jan thought.  The two women walked past them, drinking from sport bottles of spring water that dripped with condensation.  She stopped and leaned over Jan. “Like a drink of this?”  Flogger gave the bottle a squeeze and a jet of clean cool water shot out and puddled into Jans belly button.  “Ah, too bad,” Flogger moaned.  Then she straddled Jans body, holding the bottle in her crotch and squeezing it as she grinned.   Jan opened her mouth and caught part of the water as Flogger waved the bottle, splashing water over her.  “Oh, you will love to drink my real pee when I give you the honor, wont you?”  Jan tried to swallow the tiny bit of water she had caught with her lips.  Flogger tapped Jans chin with floggers handle.  “Uh-uh.  Open up,” she grinned again, taking a big pinch of gravel and sifting it into Jans mouth.  She tapped again.  “Swallow that.”


       The sun was brutal, even at that hour of the morning, made worse by the three sets of Position drills they were put through, moving from one Position to another called out in random order so that they would be on their backs in Seven, then up for Three or Four, then dropping to knees for Nine, and so on.  They were all drenched in sweat and streaked with shit.  They would practically throw their bodies from one posture to another with the impact of the gravel on knees, feet, backs and butts adding to the discomfort.  But even the rasping of the gravel was better than the tails of the twin Cats that Sister Flogger loved to twirl and swing.  Just then they heard the compounds gate swing open, followed by the clop of horse hooves.  Flogger saw who was entering and halted the exercise.

       “Stop, take Position Ten attention, and witness the honor of a visit from the Lady Margaret,” Flogger announced.  From her position in the line of eight, Jan saw a very thin woman wearing tan jodhpurs, a white shirt opened down the front and gleaming black riding boots on a magnificent black horse that pranced into the compound.  Two young and lovely collared slaves, matched enough to almost be twins, walked to either side with leashes attached to the stirrup leathers.  Two more slaves followed the horse.  One was about Jans age and build with shorter auburn hair and carrying a yellow plastic bucket clipped to a ring on her collar.  The other one was older and somewhat chunky with streaked blonde hair.  She carried a green canvas tote bag with the handles of it clipped to rings in her nipples.  The label shit bag was written all over her body, on her forehead, arms, chest, and across her hips.

       “Welcome, Lady Margaret, this is an honor,” Flogger called out. “How often does our illustrious property owner get down to the compound?” 

       “So nice to see you, Sisters,” the Lady replied.  “I heard we had a group of eight this time, so I thought I would take a morning ride.  Lovely morning it is, isnt it slut?” She looked at the slave on her left.

       “Yes Mistress, its a wonderful morning,” the slave replied.  Her smooth torso was glistening with sweat from running alongside the horse and her hair was plastered to her neck.  Jan envied her clean hair that shone in the sunlight.  The horse shook the bridle and shifted slightly.  Lady Margaret turned in the saddle to face the two slaves behind.  

       Be alive pissbucket,” she said, “I believe Black Lashes is going to honor you.”

She turned back to the group as she gave the reins a slight tug.  The slave with the bucket crouched behind as the mare raised her tail and a long arc of piss shot out.  The slave was catching it in the bucket as some splashed back onto her face.  She adjusted her position, trying to hold the bucket in the stream.  Lady Margaret looked back again.  “Too much splash pissbucket, use the mouth and let it flow in!” she called.  The slave opened wide to catch the stream, which flowed over her filled lips and into the bucket.   As the stream slacked off and stopped, the piss slave bent to follow it, careful to avoid touching the mare but catching every drop as the flow stopped. 

“Good pissbucket,” Lady Margaret said, unclipping the leashes and flicking her riding crop at the nipples of the stirrup slave on her right.  “You, hoof hobble, and dont let her kick,” she swung the crop across to the slave on the left, “and you clean. Get to it.”

       “Yes Mistress,” they said in unison as one went to her knees to hold the mares ankles and the other went behind and gently pushed up the mares tail as she licked her clean.

“Good slaves,” the Lady said.”  

“Thank you Mistress,” they replied, again in unison and taking up their positions beside the horse.  Lady Margaret smiled as she looked over at Flogger and Birches.  “Have they had breakfast yet?”  She asked.

“No, not yet,” Birches replied. “We are only feeding twice a day, so brunch will be a bit later today.  What did you have in mind, Lady Margaret?”

A lovely little snack of course, and it should be a special treat for new ones.”  She turned in the saddle.  “Shit bag, get up here.”  The slave with the green tote came up alongside. Lady Margaret peered into the bag.  “Yes, some really fresh ones.  Go over and give each mouth a treat.”  The slave started for the line of women.  “Shit bag!” Lady Margaret called, “did I not hear something, or is your mouth too full of shit?”

“Sorry, Mistress,” the slave stammered, “sorry Mistress.  This shit bag thanks Mistress for her attention and begs her forgiveness.”

“Pathetic,” Margaret answered.  “After all the training weve given you. Now get over there!”  Lady Margaret accented her words with a quick slash over each nipple with her crop.

“Open wide,” Birches called to the line as the slave walked along and dropped a fresh green horse apple into each mouth. “You are so stupid you probably think you will be ordered to eat this lovely gift, dont you?  No, it is much too precious for that.  Lady Margaret, will you explain, please?”

“Happily, Sister Birches,” Margaret replied.  “The precious apple we have entrusted to each mouth will be held there and will remain intact while it rides across the compound to the red post and back here.  And I want them back here in the same condition they were in when distributed.”  She pulled two smaller crops from a sheath on her saddle and handed them to the two stirrup slaves.  “Here, you two herd them, and give them the proper encouragement.” 

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress,” they replied, approaching the line.

“And both of you take a horse turd, too,” Lady Margaret called behind them, smiling broadly.  “And shit bag, you join them, and carry two in your mouth!”

“Thank you Mistress,” shit bag answered as she brought two more out of the bag and put them in her mouth, then placed one in each of the waiting mouths of the stirrup slaves.

“All right then, sluts, get them moving!” Lady Margaret called out as the two slaves swung the crops and the line started jogging toward the post at the far side of the compound.  Jan tried not to wince or gnash her teeth around the acrid taste of the horse turd in her mouth, even when the crop swung across her back as she jogged, moving toward the head of the line to avoid the two slaves.  Then she heard hoof beats as Lady Margaret cantered up alongside them, raising her crop.


To be continued.






Review This Story || Author: Jack R
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