Message-ID: <35200asstr$1013407805@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: dino@canoemail.com (Dino Dave) X-Original-Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 10 Feb 2002 15:06:00 +0000 (UTC) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 10 Feb 2002 15:06:00 +0000 (UTC) Subject: {ASSM} Surviver: Cast Intros: The Major and Jane file 5/7 Surviver: Part 05/22 (mf, ff, bdsm, bondage) - major.txt [1/1] Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2002 01:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, newsman Missing parts of this story? Check out: http://www.writingsofleviticus.cjb.net/ It's all there, along with a ton of other great stories. All for free too! <1st attachment begin> The Major and Jane. Major Edwin Kilpatrick (rtd) leaned back in his chair, whiskey in hand, contemplating the screen in front of him. TEN D/S COUPLES NEEDED FOR ENDURANCE TYPE CONTEST FIRST PRIZE: ONE MILLION DOLLARS! Home Showcase is inviting Dominant / submissive couples to participate in a contest for an upcoming pay per view special to be broadcast in the near future. Kilpatrick frowned and again checked the 'sent by' information that came with this email. He knew just from looking that it was one of those anonymous services, and one of the better ones at that. Someone had gone to some lengths to make sure he wouldn't know who had sent this. Kilpatrick wasn't surprised, a stickler for online security himself he approved of the sender's discretion. Yet the Marine man in him still thought that security was only good when it was YOUR side using it. Information won battles, and it didn't matter if those battles were fought with blood and steel between men of honor, or fought with words with people who didn't even realize they were part of the game. He who knows the most, wins the prize! But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, although he wasn't totally without resources. A call to an old Marine buddy who still worked in Intelligence would give him the identity of the sender in a matter of days. If he needed to make that move he would. Still, the body of the message was interesting indeed. He was well aware of Home Showcase, and the kinds of things they put on their controversial, but highly rated cable channel, so the contest was not out of character. There were links to a website embedded in the message giving him a little more information about the contest, but that wasn't nearly as important as the conformation that it was all real. Kilpatrick now knew that there WAS going to be a contest, broadcast on television, with a Million Dollar prize for the couple that made it to the end. It was a challenge, and Kilpatrick was never one to back down from a challenge. His military career had been filled with challenges and he never backed away from any of them, even when one of them meant his being 'forced' into early retirement. Kilpatrick no longer growled at the way he had been kicked out of the Service after nineteen years of faithful duty. But yes it was a challenge, and the first step was getting to be one of the initial ten couples invited on the show! He saw that as the hardest part, as it would mean competing against others he couldn't see or do anything about. But once on the show, the enemy would be revealed and he was sure his military mind could out plan the lot of them. Civilians all, he thought, weak and undisciplined! Not a problem. Kilpatrick stood up, his thoughts about discipline reminding him of a task he had yet to do. He walked across his Spartan den to a series of bookshelves where he took out three books on one of the upper shelves. Behind them was a switch which he flipped before tugging on the bookshelf. It moved silently on well oiled hinges and opened to reveal a locked door. Kilpatrick selected a key from a large bunch on his belt and opened it, passing through to the room beyond. This room was also extremely neat, no messes around the Major! It was also very differently furnished as this was his play room. Various devices of torture and bondage were mounted at intervals around this large room, all looking brand new despite the years of wear on some of them. A lot of them he had built himself, being a handy man with tools, but many he had lovingly purchased over time with money realized by the trust fund of his late wife. That and his veteran's pension enabled him to indulge full time in his little hobby. The little hobby in question was crouched in a tiny cage just barely big enough to contain her. Naked, except for a metal ring around her neck, she knelt in a fetal position which was the only way she could fit inside the cage. She didn't look up, couldn't really, at Kilpatrick's approach but he did see her stiffen when she heard him. Kilpatrick smiled. Without a word he unlocked the cage and opened one end, then without looking back he strode over to the middle of the room. The girl in the cage made no move to leave it. Kilpatrick turned and watched her for a moment, then began. "Out!" he yelled sharply. The girl pushed herself out of the cage, emerging like a butterfly out of a cocoon at a speed you would not have thought possible looking at how tightly packed she had been. But the girl had by now plenty of practice exiting the cage and had all the moves down pat. She ought to have, considering all the drilling the Major had forced on her. So, stiff and sore, she was on her feet in seconds, at attention. "Left face!" ordered Kilpatrick, and the girl did a perfect military turn, her bare foot thumping the concrete floor and her breasts wobbling from side to side due to the quickness of her action. She now faced the Major but kept her eyes straight ahead, focused on the opposite wall. She knew to her error the penalties of looking directly at him at the wrong times. "Forward, two paces, MARCH!" was the next command, and the nude girl executed them smartly. Kilpatrick then began his inspection. He noted the deep red marks across her knees, shins, and feet from the lattice on the bottom of the cage. She had just spent the last ten hours in there with nothing soft to protect her flesh. The bars of the lattice were wide enough not to cut into her skin, but only just. Other marks decorated her body, some fresh, some old. Whip and cane marks across her back and buttocks, a few burns on her breasts and thighs from cigarettes, and plenty of bruises and marks made by straps, cuffs, chains, rope, and whatever else was on hand at various times to bind her with. As Kilpatrick walked around her he noted all these marks and wondered how they would look on TV and grew concerned. The bleeding hearts might complain, he thought, so he decided to lay off the hard stuff for a while so she could better heal up. His thoughts were unknown to the girl of course, all she could see in her immediate future was another day of torture. She carefully eyed the open door of the room but knew that a try for it was hopeless. She had made that mistake over a year before only to find that the door beyond WAS locked. She ended up cowering in fear as the Major walked slowly over to her. It had been a week since she had been able to walk again. So she stood stock still as her tormentor examined every inch of her body. She had long ago resigned herself to his scrutiny, and the looks of the few that he allowed to see her. Her body was scarcely hers anymore anyway. He decided everything about it now, even her toilet functions. But it was her own damn fault. Two years ago she had hired on as his live in housekeeper, and being the curious sort she soon realized that the layout of the house didn't make much sense. There was a room missing although there was no obvious way into it. Not even windows on the outside. It was only after watching a mystery on TV that she figured out the bookcase scam, and an opportune moment with the Major's keys helped her gain access. But like a mouse in a trap she couldn't get back out again. A simple metal key allowed access past the locked door going in, but a keypad hooked up to an electronic lock barred the way back out. IF she had only thought to block the door open she wouldn't have spent the last year and a half as his bondage sex toy! The equipment she discovered in surprise, she got to know very intimately during that time. She was jerked back to the present by the Major who came around and stood right in front of her. Kilpatrick was not a tall man, in fact the girl with her bare feet was the exact same height as the Major in his boots. But he was a big man, well muscled, with a lethal air about him. As a soldier he had 'Command Presence', code for an air of "Don't you DARE mess with me because I can whip your ass without breaking a sweat!" The girl was scared to death of him! "You're going to need a haircut soon," Kilpatrick said to her. He kept her hair at military regulation length, regulation for men that is. He quickly tired long ago of her long hair getting in the way. "Yes, Major," she answered, then she wondered if she should have. When he spoke to her she was supposed to answer, but there were times when it was hard to know if he was speaking rhetorically. She held her breath. Kilpatrick knew of her dilemma, there was very little mystery left in her. He even caught her glance at the door a minute before even though he had been standing behind her at the time. Her head had turned for just a fraction, making him smile. It had taken him a long time to break her down, using a combination of boot camp mentality and harsh discipline but he had taken her down to basics. Now he was in the process of rebuilding her the way he wanted her and he was rather pleased with his progress. Six months ago he wouldn't have dreamed of entering a contest such as the one he had just found out about, but he was confident that his control over the girl was sufficient for the task ahead of him. Then and there he decided to put in an entry and he was determined to win! "Laundry duty, then lunch at 11:30 hours," he told her. "Yes, Major," she answered, waiting for the final command. Major Edwin Kilpatrick, formally of the 10th Cav, waited a beat, admiring the quivering body before him, muscles sculpted though arduous work outs. Then he gave the command. "Dismissed!" As the girl ran quickly out of the room to her duties, Kilpatrick smiled once more at what lay in store for them. Then he frowned. "Damn," he said to himself. "I guess I'll have to find a name for her now!" --------------------------------------------------------- <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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