Amy lay on the ground panting for breath, her mind slowly 
regaining control over her body.  She felt drained; she stood up on 
wobbly knees and, leaning back agianst the tree, put on her dress.  It 
was all she could do to make her body obey her commands; she pushed the 
thoughts of what she had done, what Achilles had seen her do, to the back 
of her mind:  she couldn't deal with it right now.  She stood there for 
some time while her wits and her equilibrium came back to her, and then 
began walking home, her mind purposefully numb.
	As she walked, the cool evening air brushed gently against her, 
cooling her sweating body and forcing her mind to the damp spot between 
her legs.  She stumbled and closed her eyes tight, a moan escaping her 
lips; she couldn't have done that, she just couldn't have!  She stopped, 
her mind working furiously:  for the first time in her life she had had 
an orgasm--okay.  It had been fireworks and earthshaking and bombs 
bursting; she could accept that, that was okay, but how and where her 
body had finally brought her that pleasure she couldn't accept, and her 
mind turned in shame from it.
	She started walking again, faster and faster until she was almost 
running.  She had been stripped, collared, and gagged.  She had been 
oggled, leashed, and forced to lick someone's feet.  Finally, she had 
been beaten like a horse while she straddled a tree.  How could that have 
turned her on?!  How?!  She knew, though, deep down she knew as she ran 
home as fast as her legs could take her, that it had.  She knew that her 
lust had grown with each degrading act she was forced to perform, knew 
that her punishment, only right and fitting, had released something 
inside her, some vestige of control or desire for control, and freed a 
part of her that wanted, that lusted, to be degraded and humiliated and 
most importantly, controlled.  She choked back tears as she ran up to 
her room and threw herself on her bed; it was too much, too much all at 
once.
	Achilles hustled down to the boiler room, using the keys Jim had 
given him, and was disappointed to find no one there.  Oh well, he 
thought, there was always tomorrow.
	Thursday Jim noticed that Amy didn't show up to class, but Maria 
was back to her normal biting self, meaner than ever if that was 
possible.  The day before she had even stopped by and made several 
requests for certain items, the better to torture her teacher with.  He 
thought about Amy and Achilles again, and thought that that boy didn't 
look like much, but he certainly had a certain something.  Sara was 
coming along real well too:  she got off on everything he did to her, no 
matter how painful and humiliating.  He was hoping Achilles could get Amy 
to fall in line soon, since he would love to tear off a piece of that 
cunt too.  Amy and Sara and Maria all together:  those were the stuff of 
dreams.
	Amy knew better than to play sick with Achilles, even if it 
worked with her parents.  She didn't know what he had planned, but she 
dreaded it with a passion, and at the same time some bizarre quirk in 
her, some small part in her mind, anticipated it, wanted it.  She was 
everything bad, this small part of her self told her:  she was a 
murderess, a bigot, swollen with pride; not only that, but also a slut, a 
horny cunt who came whenever some man beat her.  It was only a small part 
of her mind which told her these things, but it got louder and louder as 
she approached Achilles' house.
	She arrived and was met at the door by Achilles, who immediately 
led her up to his room and locked the door.  He kept her standing as he 
sat down on his bed and looked her over; she shuddered under his gaze, 
remembering the last time he had seen her.
	"That was quite a show you put on yesterday," his voice startled 
her so that she jumped a little.  He frowned, "That's bad.  I'm supposed 
to punish you, not bring you off."  She blushed at his remarks, her pale 
skin turning a dark crimson as shame washed through her.  She remained 
silent.
	"Well, we can't have you enjoying your punishment, can we?  Can 
we!" he shouted.
	"N...n...no," she stuttered, her head down, her arms straight and 
crossed before her.
	He leaned back, "So tell me, what part of your punishment did you 
enjoy?"
	She looked at him for the first time since she had arrived, anger 
and desperation suffusing her body, "None!" she shouted, "I hated it all; 
it was horrible, just horrible," she finished, her emotion subsiding to 
an almost pleading desire for belief.
	Achilles smiled mockingly, "Well, for someone who hated every 
moment of what happened to her, you gave a good impression of fucking a 
tree to orgasm."  Then he noticed that she was crying silently, standing 
before him dressed in a summer dress and looking so much like a little 
girl.  Standing, he went over to her and reached under her chin, lifting 
her face up until he was looking directly into her eyes.
	"You did hate it, didn't you," he said softly.
	"Y...yes," was whispered.
	"But you came too; I know you did."
	"Yes."
	"You hated coming; you hated feeling like that.  I'm right, 
aren't I?"
	"Yes."
	"Why?"  A simple question.
	Sobbing silently now, she broke away from him and sat down hard 
onto the floor.  "I'm so bad," she choked out.  "I...I deserved 
everything you did to me.  It felt so good.  It's evil.  Horrible.  
I...I'm no good...for anything...like a whore.  I don't wanna be who I 
am."  She started sobbing for real now, her face buried in her hands.
	Achilles watched her for a moment, pity warring with elation in 
his mind.  He was surprised at how quickly she had broken, but then again 
he had been surprised that she had orgasmed the other day.  Now was the 
time to build her back up, to build her back up into the person he wanted 
her to be.  Careful, he thought to himself, careful or the old 
personality will reassert itself.  I must incorporate that personality, 
he thought, must allow it free reign somewhere.  Thinking furiously, he 
knelt down beside her and held her, soothing her the same way he would a 
small child, cooing to her "my little princess" over and over again.
	When her sobbing had abated somewhat he lifted her chin again 
until he looking into her big, beautiful blue eyes, glistening with 
tears, and spoke to her in short, comforting sentences, telling her she 
didn't have to be bad, telling her he could help her, that he loved her 
and wanted what was best for her.  The problem, he suggested, watching 
carefully for her reactions, was that she had no structure in her life; 
he could change that.  She would have to trust him.  He would take 
everything bad about her, her pride, her lust, her fear, and wall it away 
from her, keep her safe from it.  Only he would have to see her like 
that, and he would control her then, if she only let him.  He could 
handle it; only trust him.  Trust him.
	He talked for over an hour like that to her, calm and 
reassuring.  He was right, she knew:  she couldn't trust herself 
anymore; she could trust him, though:  he loved her.  To be like she was, 
calm, confident, sure of herself--how she wished she could be like that 
again.  She could, he was telling her.  She could be her old self, 
without all that had corrupted her, made her filth.  She was two 
different people, she understood, Amy Sanders--the good, strong, woman 
who was going to college and was going to be a success--and someone else, 
someone who associated with murders and covered up her crimes and was 
swollen with pride and arrogance and was a slut who couldn't control her 
own body.  She understood what he was saying:  to the outside world she 
could be Amy Sanders, but to him she would release the dark side of 
herself so that it couldn't get out and contaminate her, and he would 
punish that dark side of her.  Yes, she wanted that; she did, she really 
really did.
	"Do it," she said, "help me."
	Hearing the magic words, Achilles stood up and walked in front of 
his bed and said, "Stand up.  You understand what you have to do, Amy?  I 
will be like your confessor:  everything bad that you do or think I will 
punish, every twinge of lust I will expiate, but you must bring them all 
to me.  You must not hide them away like you did before or they will 
destroy you like they almost did before.  Do you understand?"
	"Yes," she said, relief at this release of her burden 
invigorating her, and she felt a surge of happiness for the first time in 
days.
	"Okay then, in order to do this correctly, we have to make some 
rules, yes?"
	"Yes."
	"You have to obey everything I tell you to do without question.  
Understand?"
	"Yes."
	"And when you're with me your name will be Princess.  Tell me 
your name."
	"Princess."
	"You will call me master at all times.  Now, what is your name."
	"Princess, master."
	"That's enough for now; let's begin."
	"Yes master."
	His cock was already as hard as a rock as he walked slowly around 
her like a disapproving drill seargent.  Amy Sanders was finally and 
truly his!  All his to do whatever he wanted to, and he knew what he was 
going to do to her today--thank god his parents were out of the house 
until seven tonight.
	Amy's heart fluttered as Achilles walked around her, looking her 
up and down.  She felt freed in some bizarre way; now she didn't have to 
be in control.  Later she would be, but now all she had to do was 
whatever Achilles, her master, told her too.  It was liberating, because 
she no longer had to be afraid of what she would do--her master would 
take care of it.  It would all come out, she knew, her uncontrollable id 
which so recently had taken over her life, would come out to be punished 
and mastered, and then to retreat so that she could live a normal life 
until she needed her master to tame it again, to tame her, to tame 
Princess.  He would let Princess out and keep her away from her, Amy 
Sanders.  No, she thought, I am Princess, and she felt a tingling in her 
groin at the thought, and she squeezed her thighs together.  I'm bad, she 
thought, I'm bad and need to be punished.  Punish me, master, punish 
Princess she thought.
	He came back around until his face was inches from her, and he 
barked out, "Strip."  Her gaze locked by his, she did what he commanded, 
baring her young, firm, nubile body to him.  He stepped back and looked 
at her, at her strong nose dominating her face, her kinky blond hair 
falling past her shoulders, her firm, perky breasts with their perfectly 
porportioned nipples, her slender waist and almost skinny but perfectly 
formed legs, her blond curling pubic hairs and her dull, thin lips.  All 
his, he thought, feeling his cock throb in his pants.
	"I saw you fuck that tree yesterday, Princess, you slut," he 
growled out.  "I've never seen anyone fuck a tree before.  Did you like 
it Princess?  Did you like fucking that tree."
	"Yes master."
	"You know what that make you, don't you cunt?  It makes you a 
fucking worthless slut!"
	"Yes master," she said with her chin trembling.
	"Say it!"
	"I'm a fucking worthless slut, master."
	"Spread your legs, Princess."
	She obeyed him, feeling dirty and slutty and worthless, spreading 
her legs until she was standing with her feet three feet apart.  It made 
her feel exposed, standing naked before him with her legs spread like 
this, but that excited her, excited Princess.  Amy Sanders would never do 
this, she thought, Amy is such a good girl.  She trembled inside with 
pleasure.  She felt his hands, her master's hands, against her shoulders 
as he gripped them firmly, sending an electric thrill through her body.  
She felt her vaginal--her cunt--lips begin to swell and moisture begin to 
form between her legs.  He was making Princess hot, staring into her eyes 
and holding her by the shoulders and she almost whimpered in desire as 
she stood there.  She was so bad.
	She felt his hands jerk her toward him an instant before blinding 
pain flashed through her groin as his knee jerked viscously into her 
cunt.  She doubled over, all feelings of sexual excitement fleeing, and 
dropped her hands to protect her throbbing sex.
	Still holding onto her shoulders, she heard her master say, "You 
deserved that, didn't you, you dirty cunt?"
	"Y...yes master," she whined, pain taking her breath away.  And 
she knew that she did deserve it.  All dirty sluts deserved to be treated 
like the pieces of meat they were, and they shouldn't forget it.
	His hands forced her to her knees and she landed with a thump, 
her groin still in agony over his unexpected blow.  "My little Princess 
wanted to be fucked, just like the slut she is, but I don't think you 
deserve to be fucked, do you slut?"
	"No master."  The pain was finally abating somewhat, although her 
whole groin throbbed as if bruised.  She groaned as she straightened up 
onto her knees and saw that her master was removing his clothes.  She 
watched in fascination as he undressed:  he didn't look like much, she 
thought, until he removed his underwear, when she saw the largest cock 
she had ever seen.
	Achilles smiled when he saw her eyes widen at the sight of his 
penis.  "Do you want to touch my cock, Princess?"
	She was fascinated by it; Amy Sanders had never seen a penis that 
size:  it was at least two inches longer and an inch thicker than any 
penis Amy had seen.  Princess licked her lips--poor Amy, she wasn't going 
to get any of her master's cock.  "Yes master," she said, not taking her 
eyes off his cock, "Princess wants to touch your cock."
	"Does Princess want to suck my cock?"
	She was taken aback for a second; it was so large, and she had 
never done it before--at least Amy hadn't.  But Amy wasn't a filthy whore 
like Princess was, and Princess found herself salivating at the chance to 
put that enormous cock in her mouth.  "Yes master," she hissed, "let me 
suck your cock."
	"Crawl over here and beg," he said sitting down onto the edge of 
the bed.
	She crawled over between his legs, her breasts swinging heavily 
beneath her, her groin throbbing now more with excitement than pain.  
"Please master, let me suck your beautiful cock.  I want it so bad.  
Princess is a worthless dirty slut and wants her master's cock in her 
mouth.  Please master, let me suck your cock."
	His wildest fantasies had come true:  here was Amy Sanders, on 
her hands and knees, naked, and begging to blow him.  He grabbed her head 
and forced it against his cock, sighing in pleasure as she wrapped her 
lips around his dick and began to suck him.  
	He felt so large in her mouth, she thought as she sucked his cock 
into the warm, wet confines of her oral cavity--salty, too.  It felt 
good, too, to be on her knees with her master's cock in her mouth; a slut 
like her should have a cock in her mouth at all times.  As she sucked, 
gripping the shaft, she thought of it in her cunt, reaming her out, 
stretching her wide, and she felt a thin trail of moisture drip down the 
inside of her thigh.  She squeezed her thighs together, pleasure 
beginning to consume her body, and thought of even fouler pleasures:  
what if he put his cock in her ass?  A slut like her, like Princess, 
would love a big cock in her ass.  She gasped out around the prick in her 
mouth as a small orgasm blossumed in her cunt.  Amy Sanders would never 
get fucked in the ass.
	Achilles sat back and enjoyed every minute of the blow job he was 
getting from his dream girl.  He moaned as she sucked her cheeks in to 
massage his dick as she bobbed her head up and down while running her 
hand along his shaft and down to his balls.  Her tongue scraped along the 
bottom of his cock, the tip occasionally teasing her vein just under the 
circumcised head.  He would have to teach her to deep throat, he thought 
as he felt the pressure begin to build up in his balls, but for now she's 
doing fine.  It was even better that she was getting into it so much; he 
could have sworn she had had an orgasm just a minute ago.
	She felt his cock begin to expand and his hands grip the back of 
her head, forcing more of his dick into her mouth.  He was going to come, 
Princess thought, he was going to shoot his come into her mouth--she 
trembled in pleasure, sucking harder and running her fingers under his 
balls to press hard against the soft flesh there.
	Achilles bellowed as he felt her fingers press against the soft 
skin between his anus and his balls, and he shot wad after wad of come 
into her willing, sucking mouth, gasping in pleasure as she continued to 
work his sensitive knob.
	Princess felt his come splatter against her throat and she 
swallowed greedily, sucking down each blast of his come and luxuriating 
in the feel if it sliding slickly down her throat.  She was such a slut, 
such a whore, she thought, to be doing this, and felt another small 
orgasm shake her as she squeezed her thighs together once more.  She kept 
sucking on his cock until he became flacid and pushed her head away.  She 
looked up at him expectantly:  she was a good slut, wasn't she? 
	Achilles looked in amazement down at the doglike expectancy on 
Amy's face as she gazed up at him, her mouth slightly open in what was 
unmistakably excitement.  He had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams with 
her.  "You've been a good bitch, you have," he said, patting her on the 
head.  "You deserve a reward.  Get up on the bed."
	She eagerly obeyed and laid on her side watching him as he went 
over to his closet and took down a large box, rummaged through it, and 
pulled out a large dildo--it was even larger than his cock, she saw, 
amazed.  It must have been twelve inches long and two thick, she thought, 
growing excited at the mere thought of taking that up her twat.
	"Here you go, Princess, play with this while I take some 
pictures."  She grabbed it eagerly as it landed on the bed and rolled 
onto her back, spreading her legs and running the enormous dildo against 
her swollen labia, moaning and gasping in pleasure as she teased herself 
to further arousal.
	Achilles pulled out his camera and began taking pictures--he 
didn't want to forget this, his first night with Amy Sanders.  Besides, 
she was so sexy like that, in the throws of passion.
	Princess could hear the sound of her master's camera as she 
spread her labia with one hand and eased the monster dildo in with the 
other, but it just excited her more; she was going to be on film; he 
could show any of his friends how nasty and sluttish she was.  Yes, she 
thought as she slid the dildo into her gaping cunt until it bumped 
against her cervix, leaving a full three inches outside her snatch.  She 
moved her free hand and began playing with her clit as she slowly worked 
the dildo around in her cunt, pleasure assaulting every nerve in her 
body.  She began to writhe and moan as the sensations built, puntuated 
each time she slammed the dildo hard against her cervix, sending pleasure 
cascading up her spine.  She could feel a tremendous orgasm build within 
her guts, and she mashed down on her clitorus, trying to bring it now, 
now--so close.
	Rough hands grabbed the dildo from her and ripped it from her 
cunt and knocked her other hand away from her clitorus.  Her body 
jacknifed up in unfulfilled lust and she screamed "NOOOO!!!" trying to 
bring her hands back to her clitorus, trying to achieve the most 
incredible orgasm she had ever had which was just a touch away.  A sharp 
slap shocked her out of her sexual frenzy as her head was knocked back 
onto the bed and to one side, stunning her and sending her orgasm 
fleeing.  She moaned in sexual torment, wanting, needing, any release 
now.  Another slap knocked her completely back to her senses--god, she 
was so hot, needed it so badly, but now she was looking into the eyes of 
her angry master, partially obscured by her kinky blond hair which had 
flown wildly about her head.
	"What did you say to me cunt?" he growled angrily, leaning over 
her and holding her down on the bed by her shoulders.
	"P...please...master..."
	"What did you say to me?"  He made his voice even angrier.
	"...no...master."
	"YOU DON'T EVER SPEAK BACK TO ME AGAIN, YOU STUPID CUNT!" he 
screamed, jerking her off the bed by her head and dragging her to the 
foot of it.
	"Please master, please," she begged, scared now as he threw her 
onto her knees so that she was bent over the end of the bed, her ass in 
the air.  He placed one hand against her neck, forcing her head into the 
mattress, and grabbed a large paddle with the other.
	WHACK!  She screamed as he brought the paddle down as hard as he 
could against the back of he thighs.
	WHACK!  She screamed again as the paddle struck her ass cheeks 
with tremendous force.
	WHACK!  WHACK!  WHACK!  WHACK!  WHACK!  Again and again he 
brought the paddle down against her ass and her thighs until they were a 
deep red from the beating and she was sobbing into the mattress.  He 
released her for a minute and returned, spreading her asscheeks, bringing 
a loud sob from her throat.
	She was miserable; her ass and thighs were a mass of fiery, throbbing 
pain.  She should never had talked back to her master, but she had been 
so close, so close and he had taken it away from her.  She still felt, 
even after the beating, and aching emptiness in her cunt, a yearning for 
an orgasm.  What was he doing?  She felt a coolness around her anus as he 
smeared grease over her sphincter.  He was going to fuck her in the ass!  
The thought drove some of the pain away.  He beat her and then he was 
going to shove his fat cock up her ass--it was so perverse, so dirty, so 
nasty, she felt her cunt twitch and the pain in her ass and thighs burn 
hotter.
	She felt the head of his cock press against her anus as his 
fingers roughly dug into her throbbing asscheeks.  It felt like she was 
taking the biggest shit of her life, but it didn't hurt thanks to the 
copious amount of grease he had used.  She felt it slide slowly in, every 
single inch, filling up her guts until she thought she was going to 
explode.  It felt so strange having a cock up her ass, so filling.
	Achilles grunted as he popped his cock through her tiny brown 
sphincter, watching intently as he slid it slowly into her guts.  Damn 
she had a tight ass, he thought, as he bottomed out, his hips pressing 
against her spread ass cheeks.  He leaned over her until he could whisper 
in her ear, and began whispering that she loved having a cock in her ass, 
what a slut, what a whore, that she was no better than a piece of fucking 
meat to take his cock wherever he wanted to put it, that she was a 
worthless slut to get off on this, and more.  He slowly pulled his hips 
back until only the head of his cock was still in her ass, and then 
pounded forward.
	The things he was whispering to her, oh god, she thought, sliding 
her hand down to her clitorus and mashing it between her fingers; it was 
so hot, so good.  Her mouth opened into an O of surprise and pleasure as 
she felt his cock slowly slide out from her ass, feeling like it was 
dragging her guts with it.  It felt so strangly good.  She imagined Amy 
getting used like she was, and that excited her more:  goody-two-shoes 
Amy getting beaten and fucked like some piece of meat--she grunted in 
passion.
	Achilles slammed his cock in and out of Amy's tiny asshole, 
reveling in the sensations assaulting his penis.  It was so tight and 
clinging, and he was still turned on from his paddling of her.  God, he 
thought, Amy Sanders, letting me pound her ass then letting me fuck her 
up the bum, and loving every minute of it.  He felt, deep in his groin, 
the beginning tingle of what he knew was going to be a tremendous orgasm.
	Princess was practically out of her mind now.  The twin 
pleasures, so different, from his cock in her ass and her fingers on her 
clit were driving her wild.  She grunted in time with his viscous thrusts 
and drool spilled from her gaping mouth.  Her whole body felt like it was 
on fire; even her breasts which were being rubbed achingly back and forth 
against the bed as her body jerked to her master's thrusts.  She had 
begun trembling she didn't know when, the pleasure so overwhelming, but 
she drove her fingers harder against her clit, knowing that with a 
little more, just a little more, she could go even higher.
	It started in her ass as her master drove his tool deep into her 
guts.  It felt as if a cool wave of pleasure washed over her body, 
causing her to jerk convulsively and jam her nails hard into her clit, 
sending shooting sparks of pleasure flashing through her overworked 
nerves.  She felt these two pleasures build into a crescendo, becoming 
more and more intense, making her body rigid in anticipation, then 
sending it into wildly jerking spasms as the most incredible orgasm 
literally burst through her ass and groin, sending her wailing and 
thrashing under her master.
	Achilles felt her ass spasm around his cock and felt the pressure 
in his own groin reach a breaking point:  any minute now, he thought, 
moaning at the intense pleasure.  He grabbed onto her hair as he felt her 
body begin to jerk beneath him, and groaned as her ass began sucking at 
his cock.  He held on for dear life, hands tight around her skull, cock 
buried to its limit in her ass, as her body became a bucking bronco 
beneath him and her as a sucking, grasping, greedy oriface, trying to 
devour him.  His yell matched hers as his cock spat out its come deep 
into her bowels, filling her with his seed.  He held on, overwhelmed with 
pleasure as her ass kept squeezing and milking his cock while her body 
trembled and jerked beneath him.
	He lay on top of her for a full minute until her trembling 
subsided and he could work up enough energy to move.  Slowly he pushed 
himself off of her and winced as his sensitive cock popped from her ass.  
"Okay, Princess, get dressed and go home.  I want to see you in the 
orange grove tomorrow, though.  Don't disappoint me."  With that, he 
staggered into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face.
	Princess lay there, her senses reeling from her orgasm, and 
listened to what her master said.  No, she thought dizzily, she wouldn't 
disappoint him.  She got up and quickly dressed, giggling as she left her 
master's house:  wouldn't Amy be pissed when she found that she'd have to 
clean up after her.  All that yummy come leaking out of her asshole right 
now and running down the back of her thighs--poor little Amy.  She giggle 
again as she thought about it.