The Training of Charlotte Vale, Day Two

The report hit first thing. Check the quarters. Read her homework. Rip those messy pages into shreds and make her eat every scrap until she learns what a paragraph is. Buckle a leather muzzle on her face and start the speech drills. Cage her next, force her to keep scrubbing that filthy floor on her knees. Run through her file with William while she listens from the bars. Pull the cattle prod and watch her flinch. Wind tight rope around her tits in neat Japanese knots. Show her how to hang in rope, how to breathe when her shoulders scream. Push her harder once she’s up. Lay the single tail across her back and ass while she fights to stay off the floor. Let her down only after the lesson sticks. Make her say thank you like she means it. Shove a cock down her throat until she stops choking, until the gag reflex breaks and she swallows instead. Crop her between every breath to keep her dizzy. Hammer the Training Trigger again and again. Chain her like an animal, cold steel locked to wrist and ankle. Run a hook up her ass and lead her by the eye-bolt. Split her cunt open on your cock while the hook drags her open wider. Pound the trigger until she comes on command, until she soaks the floor and has nothing left but the orders you give her.