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The Trainer (excerpt)

By Laura Antoniou
Published by Mystic Rose Books
Reprinted with permission

Available from Amazon.com


He teased her first, draping the tresses over her shoulders and down her back, letting them slide down her hips and thighs. She moaned and twisted her body to meet the gentle rushes of leather, even wiggling her ass a little when he slapped it lightly with the deerskin.

"Show me what a good girl you can be," he said, drawing it back. The first strike landed squarely on one shoulderblade, and he loved the sound of it, snapping and sharp. She gasped and her head flew back. "Oh, yes!" she cried out, and he grinned. Geoff believed that slaves should be as verbal as possible.

It was easy to fall into a natural rhythm in beating her -- and he did for a while. He covered her back until it was pink, and then switched to the narrower whip to actually make some stripes. She didn't disappoint him -- in fact, she seemed to like this even better. She writhed and threw herself back into the falling tresses, her body twisting to catch them, as if she were eager to be striped. When he started to really sweat, he stopped long enough to take off his shirt and put just his vest back on. The smooth leather felt good against his naked back. He came up behind her and pressed his body into hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against his chest and stomach. His erection pressed into her ass, and she moaned and pushed back...

When he had started all of this, it was hard for him to really hit the girls. A little spanking, sure. But use a heavy whip on one? Even canes seemed too harsh for their delicate bodies and skin.

But Geoff had laughed at him and his concerns. "Oh, don't be so sexist," he said, clapping Michael on the back. "Women have proven over and over again that they far surpass we mere males in pain tolerance, Mike! And these women want you to hit them. You're not bullying them, Mike, you're giving them what they crave. Hell, they could take more than most of the boys we'll ever see! You'll find out."

And boy, did he! There was always a guy or two who liked a good thumping, liked an array of bruises or stripes to carry for a few days. But some of the slave girls he'd played with truly defined the term "pain slut."




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