Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
With a start, I realized that this must be the arousal indicator Mor Astrid had mentioned. I felt my brow crease as I realized that all of the data from the treadmill would certainly go straight to my Herra. Would he know I was thinking, as I ran, about how he had used me so roughly?
After we had been running for about five minutes, I heard a sharp crack followed by a yelp of pain. Glancing to my left, I saw Mor Astrid wielding a leather strap, its tail still quivering from striking Amélie’s backside.
“Pick up the pace, girl,” Mor Astrid barked. “Your heart rate is far too low. You need to push yourself harder.”
Amélie whimpered, but increased her speed, her face flushed with exertion and embarrassment. I watched in a mixture of fascination and horror as Mor Astrid moved down the line, her strap lashing out at those whose heart rates hadn’t reached the desired level.
The sound of leather meeting flesh filled the air, along with gasps and cries of pain. I felt a twinge of pride that I hadn’t been targeted, my years of athletic training paying off as my heart rate steadily climbed into the aerobic zone.
But my relief was short-lived. Just as I was beginning to feel confident, I felt a searing pain across my buttocks. I cried out in shock, nearly stumbling on the treadmill.
“Very good, Mary,” Mor Astrid’s voice came from behind me. “Your fitness is admirable. But now it’s time to learn a different lesson.”
The strap fell again, and I bit my lip to stifle another cry. My mind reeled, trying to understand what I had done wrong.
“You see, kneppetøj,” Mor Astrid continued, her calm voice belying the force behind her strikes, “we must teach you to connect your physical exertion with your submission. We must see how well your body learns that pain and pleasure, effort and obedience, are all intertwined.”
Another lash, and I felt tears spring to my eyes. Yet of course beneath the pain I could feel the too-familiar growing warmth in my core. My pussy throbbed in time with the stinging in my buttocks, and to my shame, I felt myself growing wet.
“That’s it,” Mor Astrid murmured, and I realized she must be watching the arousal indicator on my treadmill’s display. “Let your body embrace the lesson.”
The strap fell again and again, each strike sending shockwaves of pain through my body. But with each lash, the pain seemed to transmute into something else—a burning, tingling sensation that spread from my buttocks to my pussy, making my nipples tighten against the linen breast band.
I ran faster, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The pain, the exertion, and the growing arousal all blended together into a heady mix of sensation, emotion, and thought. I felt myself slipping into a strange, altered state of consciousness—aware of every nerve ending in my body, yet somehow detached from the reality of my situation.
Around me, I could hear the other girls experiencing similar treatments. Camille’s defiant grunts turned to breathy moans as Mor Astrid’s strap found her backside, too.
After fifteen minutes on the treadmill in my low aerobic zone, my legs felt loose and my body pleasantly warm. A little sweat dripped down my face and between my breasts, making the linen band cling a bit to my skin, but I was feeling good. Mor Astrid’s voice cut through the haze of exertion and arousal that had settled over me.
“Enough,” she barked. “Off the treadmills, girls. Move to the stationary bicycles.”
I slowed the belt to a crawl and stepped off, a hint of a smile on my lips from the endorphins, even through all the shame and uncertainty of the strange moment. The cool air of the training hall felt heavenly against my warm skin as I made my way to the row of stationary bikes. They looked ordinary enough at first glance, but as I drew closer, I noticed some crucial differences.
The seats were unlike any bike saddle I’d ever seen. The narrow, padded perch of the saddle had a prominent knob that made me think of my naughty discovery on Sven’s bride saddle. My cheeks flushed as I realized that these bikes made no secret of the stimulation they would provide to a girl who rode naked.
“Mount up,” Mor Astrid commanded. “And listen carefully to my instructions.”
I swung my leg over the bike, gasping as my bare pussy made contact with the saddle. The knob sent immediate shockwaves of sensation through my already sensitized flesh. I squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position, but every movement only served to increase the stimulation.
“Now,” Mor Astrid continued, her voice stern, “you are to ride these bicycles, but not just for exercise. You will pleasure yourselves on the saddles as you pedal.”
A chorus of shocked gasps and whimpers filled the air. I felt my face flame with embarrassment, even as a traitorous thrill of excitement shot through me.