Private Afterglow

Ramya stood up with a fierce look on her face. In the last hour, she had made Suresh crawl back and forth across the training hall playing 'Fetch' with a tennis ball for half an hour, and when she got tired of throwing the ball, she had simply commanded him to bow and worship her foot as she rested her other foot on his back for thirty minutes. She was well rested now and eager to continue the training session. Suresh had been very obedient, but Ramya knew that Gayatri expected nothing but complete subservience from her slaves, and Suresh had a long way to go before he could be presented before his Goddess.

"Jumping jacks, 50 counts. You too, Chandu," Ramya ordered. All the women loved to make the slaves do jumping jacks naked - the thrill of watching their huge, erect cocks bob up and down was something else. That it also kept the slaves fit and lean was an added bonus. Suresh looked quite embarrassed as he jumped up and down for Ramya's pleasure. He looked at Chandu who did the routine with enthusiasm, not mindful at all of how ridiculous they both looked, as their cocks bounced up and down, as the two lowly slaves performed for their young mistress. Suresh was panting but at the end of it, but there was no respite.

"50 push-ups, and you will kiss my feet with every count," Ramya ordered. She stood with her feet wide apart, as the two slaves did push-ups naked in front of her, kissing her feet every time they went down. Suresh felt his naked cock scrape against the floor every time he went down, and it left a patch of pre-cum on the floor every time he pushed back up. Suresh wasn't as fit as Chandu and struggled to get up after 30 push-ups.

WHACK! Suresh felt the sharp blow of the bamboo cane on his ass. "I said 50 push-ups, not 30! The next time you stop in between, the count gets reset to zero," Ramya said, as she whacked him again on his buttocks.

"Thank you Mistress, I am grateful for your lesson," Suresh said, as tears welled up in his eyes. He got another whack for good measure. Surely no amount of joining bonus was worth this much pain, he thought to himself. He grunted with effort as he pushed himself to complete the balance 20 push-ups, wary of getting another whack on his bottom. He had thought the slaps hurt, but they were manageable. After all, the hand that delivered them was still soft. The lashes were worse, but he had managed to survive those too. But the cane was beyond his capacity to bear pain.

Suresh collapsed to the floor after the 50 push-ups. Drenched in sweat, tears in his eyes from the painful caning, he looked a sorry sight. His throat was parched and he didn't know whether he was allowed to ask for water, or whether even that would earn him another painful whack.

His thirst got the better of him. "May I please have some water, Mistress?" he asked, his eyes pleading.

"Of course, you can have all the water you want!" Ramya said sweetly. "Go fetch your bowl."

Suresh didn't understand. Bowl? He knelt before her and said, "I am sorry, Mistress. I don't have a bowl."

SLAP! SLAP! Ramya was one slap happy bitch, and she particularly relished training new slaves, putting them in their place.

"Look around, show some initiative. I guess you were one of those pampered boys who had his Mom waiting on him hand and foot? Never had to get up and do some chores around the house, eh?" Ramya said.

Suresh looked around the training hall. There were some doggie bowls kept in another corner of the room, and he headed there. Each bowl had a slave name inscribed on them, and he saw that one of them had 'Charsi' on the side. Goddess Gayatri had already decided that was to be his slave name. He picked up the bowl, and crawled back to Ramya as he didn't know where he could fetch water from.

"Will you drink from an empty bowl?" Ramya asked sarcastically.

"No, Mistress. I don't know where to fetch water from. I do see a fridge in the hall but am not sure whether I am allowed to drink water from the bottles in there," Suresh said in a hesitant tone. He was afraid he would get slapped again.

Ramya smiled. In just a couple of hours, she had managed to get Suresh thinking that he is not worthy of drinking from the bottles in the fridge. She felt proud of herself, and decided to continue the lesson.

"That's ok. Leave your bowl here and fetch a bottle from the fridge."

Suresh crawled to the fridge, picked one of the bottles and crawled back in double quick time. The cold bottle felt nice in his hands and he would have gulped it down but he knew that she would make him empty that bottle into his doggie bowl and make him drink from that.

Ramya took the bottle from him, took a sip and said, "Ah, nice and cold. That feels so good. But why did you get only one bottle? What will you drink from?"

Suresh bowed and apologized to her, crawled back to the fridge and brought back another bottle of water. Ramya took it from him and signaled to Chandu to fetch his bowl. "This one's for Chandu, because he is doing such a good job in helping me train you," Ramya said with a wicked smile. She took a swig and spat it out into Chandu's bowl. Chandu thanked her profusely and went about lapping her spit water up from his bowl as if he had been given nectar from heaven. Suresh looked on, bewildered that a man could be this servile, and wondering whether he would also meet the same fate.

Ramya turned to Suresh and said, "As a slave, you should always think of what your superiors need. And always help a brother slave, especially one senior to you. Your own needs come last. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress" Suresh bowed and apologized by kissing her feet.

"You will fetch your water from the tap in the toilet. You have been selfish in not thinking about offering me water before trying to quench your own thirst!" Ramya said. "Be thankful I am not making you drink straight from the toilet bowl there!"

Suresh obediently went and fetched water from the washroom. Ramya put her foot in the bowl and ordered, "Wash my feet." Suresh gently massaged her feet, realizing he was about to drink the same water with which he washed her feet. Suddenly, the spit water seemed far more appealing as a prospect. After he had washed both her feet, he bent down to take a sip as he was really parched.

Ramya kicked his bowl and tipped the water over. "Lap it off the floor, you miserable piece of shit," she said. Suresh hesitated a bit. His face showed his disgust at having to lap up water from the floor. "Was there no end to his humiliation?" he thought to himself.

"Remember this, Charsi! You are nothing but a lowly slave. You exist merely to serve the women, your superior beings. Washing my feet and getting to drink that water is a privilege you are being afforded. Make a face like that and I will have you drinking out of the toilet bowl!" Ramya thundered.

Suresh eagerly lapped the water off the floor. He was sure it was an empty threat. What he wasn't sure was why Ramya had gone out of her way to humiliate him in this fashion. He didn't know this was the usual training routine for all slaves. Made to drink foot-water off the floor day after day, the slaves soon yearned for something as simple as the pleasure being allowed to drink spit-water from a bowl! It was part of the conditioning routine where a slave's sense of self-worth is stripped away bit by bit, until he stops thinking of himself as human and starts seeing himself as merely a tool to please his superiors. Ramya had fine-tuned her training approach over the past year with slave after slave, and knew which buttons to push to make every one of them dance to her tunes.

"All slaves here know they can only drink water and eat food that has been blessed by the feet of their superiors. The next time you feel thirsty, you will take your bowl and crawl around the office, requesting any woman to kindly allow you the privilege of washing her feet. They may be busy, in which case you wait. If one of them feels sorry for you and deems it fit to get her feet washed by your filthy hands, then you get to have a drink. But only after you have bowed and kissed their feet and sought their permission to drink! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

SLAP! SLAP!

"Count?"

"Nine, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."

SLAP! "That was to round it off to ten. You have forty more before your daily quota is done!" Ramya said.

Suresh bowed in gratitude. His face burned, and he had forty more crisp slaps to look forward to...