The Training of Madison Young, Day Two

She’s got nowhere to put her things anymore. Every scrap of leather’s been taken. She’s naked and she’s going to stay that way. The floor is hers now, and the whip will make sure she remembers it. They lash her tight, rope biting into skin, and she learns to crawl, knees raw, back arched under each strike until she finally breaks. Tears come hard, chest heaving, and somewhere in that mess of sobs she stops fighting and starts belonging. They string her up after, rope tight enough to leave marks. She swings. When the vibrator hits her she comes with a scream that rattles the walls, body twisting, cunt dripping as the suspension holds her open. The saw horse is next, rough wood scraping her belly while they work both holes. Cock in her cunt, then straight into her ass, no pause, just the steady slap of hips and the wet sound of her getting used. She begs for permission before they let her finish, clenching around every thrust until she’s spent and shaking. Middle of the night they come for her again. She’s curled on the floor like she’s been told. They drag her up by the hair, shove into her mouth, use it until they’re ready, then paint her face and leave her there in the dark with their come cooling on her skin.