“What do we do with the nun?” Liam asked, carrying the woman through an iron gate, and laying her on a metal table.

“Get rid of her,” Hans said.

“You can’t do that,” his sister argued, coming up behind him. “She’s a nun. The last thing you need is God against you.”

“I do not take stock in your religious beliefs, Rosa,” Hans told her in an angry voice.

“Please, you can’t harm her. We can use her to…keep the others under control. She would be a good tool to convince the girls to obey. She doesn’t have to be trained. She…can be put in the kitchens.”

“Rosa…” he began with a frown.

“Please, Hans, don’t do this. I’m begging you. We can keep her drugged if necessary, or lock her in the far tower, but please don’t kill her.”

“Alright, stop rambling. But I’m warning you, if anything happens, it’s on your head,” Hans conceded. “And she will be trained.”

“She’s a nun. You can’t train her for servitude.”

“She will be trained to be obedient and to service our guests if the occasion arises. I will not have a woman in my home unless she understands her place.”

Hans stepped up to face his sister, towering over her by at least a foot in height. His green eyes were dark and menacing and Rosa felt herself shrink beneath them.

“That includes you, sister dear. Contradict my orders again, and you will find yourself next to these bitches.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Rosa answered, lowering her head obediently.

“Examine them. All of them,” Hans said, stopping his sister from objecting any further about the nun’s innocence. “When you’ve finished, I want them locked in their dormitory. Their training will begin as soon as they wake up.”

Rosa watched her brother turn and walk toward the stairs, but he stopped short of taking them and turned back. He watched the large black man lay Cassie to a metal table, then narrowed his gaze to his sister.

“Examine that one carefully,” he ordered. “She’s supposed to be a virgin. I do not want her broken. If she is a virgin, I will break her seal myself. She is to be left untouched, and she will be given the number 500.”

“500?” Rosa asked with a frown.

“You heard me. I want her trained, but she is to be set above the rest. No one touches her, except me.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Rosa answered and watched him turn and continue to walk up the concrete stairs.

She turned back to the girls in front of her, watching the guards remove their clothing before strapping them down to the tables, to prevent them from struggling, in the event, they woke up. The thought of what they would be like in six months left a mixed emotion rambling around inside her. Her brother had a way of turning a lovely, cheerful girl, into a sex-crazed monster.

Picking up a notebook, Rosa began inventorying the girls. They were young, barely out of puberty, and in a variety of sizes and shapes, and she knew her brother would order surgery on at least two of them, to enlarge their breasts. One would need to be placed on a strict diet and exercise routine, while the blonde appeared to be nearly perfect. Her figure was slender, her waist small, and her legs long and firm. She had a tiny ass and firm round breasts that would draw a barrage of bidding when she was listed for the auctions.

But what was it about her that had Hans so interested? He’d had hundreds of beautiful women, many virgins, and he never ordered any of them to remain untouched. It was typical practice to strip them of their virginity in one of two ways. Either they were relieved of their innocence during their examination, with the use of dilators and dildos, or they would be given to a trainer to experience the pain, fully conscious. Occasionally, Hans would order a virgin brought to him, and he would delight in taking her for the first time, but this was unique, even for him.

Rosa ordered Dieter, and Garran, the two guards who helped her with the inspections, to place the nitrous oxide on their new arrivals. The last thing they needed, was for the girls to wake during her inspection of their most private parts. She slipped on a single disposable glove and removed a small patch from a box of medicine, then placed one behind an ear of each girl to prevent nausea when they woke.

Dieter brushed the dark brown hair from his eyes, moving aside just enough to be out of the way while staying close enough to offer aid. He shifted his stance to a more comfortable position while he watched the doctor assemble her equipment. Unlike Garran, his co-worker, and sometimes-friend, Dieter was content to stay in his place and do his job as the Baron instructed. He knew he would have his turn with the women during their training sessions, and that was satisfaction enough for him.

Garran, on the other hand, was the youngest of all the guards, and the newest. He had been a guard at a Russian prison and was recruited six months ago on Anson’s recommendation. The man enjoyed his job more than he should have. His brownish-blonde hair was longer than any of the others, except for Liam who was bald. His dark indigo eyes made him appear threatening, while his firm muscular build made him appear desirable, after a few intense sessions, of course. When he wasn’t beating the new girls on the first floor, he was working out in the castle’s private gym, or engaging in a secret tryst with one of the girls from the higher levels. The man had an insatiable appetite for sex and punishment.

Rosa took the pile of passports the guards gave her and began reviewing each one in turn. The nun’s name, according to her passport, was Anne Russo, a music teacher from St. Mary’s Orphanage and School for Girls, in Matera, Italy. She was thirty-four years old, born in Milan, and since she was a nun, Rosa knew her large breasts were real. She had long dark hair, with a few strands of grey, streaked in, and her eyes were dark brown.

She was issued the number 501, which was going to be her name from here on out. Rosa continued her examination, taking her vitals, and recording them, then doing a breast exam for anything of concern. She ordered the guards to position her legs into the metal supports and slipped on a new pair of gloves.

The examination was a surprise to Rosa. She appeared to have given birth to at least one child in the past, and she had the scars from a tattoo she’d had removed on her left buttocks. The examination concluded with a pap smear, blood tests, and STD cultures. After she was finished, Rosa applied the plastic number tag around her neck and ordered her moved aside.

Each examination revealed the girls’ hidden secrets. Each of the girls from Italy was eighteen and in their final stretch of high school. Justina Marina, was an attractive young woman with small breasts and a small scar on her lower right abdomen, apparently from an appendectomy. She was in excellent condition otherwise, and since she was a virgin, Rosa opted out of doing a pap smear or cultures but drew blood for testing. She placed the number tag of 502 around her neck, then ordered her to be moved to the side.

Isabella Costa was a cute, petite girl, just barely five feet two inches tall, and a hundred and two pounds. She was very small-breasted, and very skinny, and showed signs of being anorexic. She had a heart murmur that was concerning, but her ECG didn’t reveal anything alarming. Isabella had signs of physical abuse, with several scars across her back and upper thighs and a broken hymen, either from self-examination or from sex. Rosa did a pap smear, took blood for the tests Hans required, and did cultures, then slipped a neck tag with 503 on it.

Number 504 was Violetta De Saintis who was a tall, very attractive young woman. She was six feet in height, and only a hundred and twenty-seven pounds, with large breasts and a round butt that would prove interesting to buyers and trainers. She too, had signs of having had sex, so cultures and a pap smear were taken, and her blood was drawn.

Francesca Caputo proved to be the most interesting of the girls so far. She was five feet five inches tall, and weight one hundred and eighty-four pounds, according to her passport. When the bed was moved to the freight scale, Rosa chuckled. She was just shy of two hundred pounds, an obvious miscalculation on the document. She had large heavy breasts, and her lungs wheezed which indicated the girl had asthma. Like little Isabella, Francesca had signs of sexual abuse, with scars around her vagina and anus. Rosa frowned when she completed the girl’s examination, wondering what had happened to her and her friends in that orphanage. She was assigned the number 505, and her tag was placed around her neck.

Maria and Bianca Bellini were sisters, and she knew this would prove concerning to Hans, but both were in excellent condition. Maria’s breasts were half a size larger than Bianca, and by the information on their passports, they were twins. Since they weren’t identical, there wouldn’t be an issue with defining the two, though some buyers preferred identical twins. Maria was still a virgin, though Bianca was not. This was curious, since they lived in an all girl’s school, and had most likely been together their entire lives. It was a piece of information Rosa knew Hans would be interested in learning. Maria had a neckband of 506, and Bianca was 507.

Rosa moved on to the last of the new arrivals, the young blonde whose passport identified her as Cassidy Faye Wynn from New York City, America. She was a reporter by occupation, and Rosa frowned when she looked at the woman’s identification. She logged onto her computer and scanned the inventory until she found what she was looking for. There was a definite connection between this girl and the one brought in a few weeks earlier. Number 326, Sophia Arnold. Both came from New York and were both reporters, which meant they most likely knew each other.

Garran took Cassie’s legs and positioned them on the stirrups, then stood next to her, caressing her firm round breasts. Rosa’s back was to the room, so she had no clue what the man was doing until she turned around to find his mouth attached to the woman’s left nipple, his fingers caressing her clitoris.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she told the man, frowning when he straightened up. “Hans has specifically set her aside for himself, remember?”

Garran deliberately patted Cassie’s moist body, then walked around her, and slipped his fingers into his mouth. He stared at Rosa, smiling. His actions were daring and challenging, and he knew the woman would never tell her brother that he had taken advantage of a slave’s examination. After all, they shared the last two women who were brought in here without the Baron’s knowledge. If she tattled on him, he would have a few things to say about her in return.

Rosa shook her head softly with an amused smile, then continued her examination. The girl was in perfect health. Her blood pressure was strong, her pulse steady, and her lungs were clear. She had perfectly straight white teeth with no cavities and no signs of gum disease. She didn’t even wear contact lenses. She was simply perfect, down to the fact she was indeed a virgin. There were no signs of her even having used tampons, which left her innocent body tight and secure.

The doctor smiled, then slipped the unique number 500 around her neck, and ordered the men to dress the women in the traditional clothing for the A-wing. They took the women down the hall to a freight elevator, then down one level, and locked them in their room to await their destiny.

Hans was relaxing in the leather chair, in his private chambers, a glass of brandy in his hand, a young redhaired girl kneeling before him. Rosa hesitated only briefly, then took the report of her examinations to him. She knew her brother didn’t care who saw him testing the girls’ training, as he called it, and often moved aside when his men entered, allowing them to take over. Rosa knew her brother was beginning to think of his mortality, and she wondered if that was the reason he had set the blonde aside for himself.

When their father died, he left everything to Hans, since Rosa was a female, but instructed his son to provide a good life for his sister. His only requests were for Hans to continue the family business that stretched back more than six hundred years, and to produce an heir to take over by the time he was thirty-five. He only had three years to find the proper woman who would provide a strong heir to follow in his footsteps.

For as long as Rosa knew, the men of the Hennhofen family had taken a slave to be their wife and provide the much-needed next generation. Taking the blonde would follow in the lineage. The fact that she was as close to perfect as any woman could be, only made the decision that much easier.

Hans opened the file and flipped through the pages, reviewing each of the new girls. For being such good girls, as the nun had insisted, they were less than shining examples of chastity. He was interested to learn how they lost their virginity, and why only two were pure. Even the nun had signs of a naughty past.

When he, at last, turned to the page labeled 500, his interest peaked. Cassie was in excellent condition, and as he suspected, she was perfect in every possible manner. The best news was that she truly was a virgin, just as Sophia had said. She was everything he was looking for in a mate. The fact she was beautiful and had an amazing body was the bonus that swayed the scales in her favor.

“Tomorrow, I want to interview these girls,” he told his sister. “The virgins will need to have their cherries popped, but I will decide who does it, and when. 500 is to remain untouched. I will tend to her personally.”

“Do you require the same routine for her as you do the others?” Rosa asked, glancing at the girl on the floor who was still working on her brother’s penis.

“Yes,” he answered, tossing the file to the table beside him. “Bathe them and put them through a one-hour session, then feed them and bring them up here, in order, beginning with the nun.”

“As you wish, Your Lordship,” Rosa said. “Do you want them to be prepared?”

“No. I want them exactly as they are, and I do not want them to know what awaits them.” Hans watched her turn to leave, then stopped her with the sharp tone of his voice. “Tell Garran if he touches 500 again, I’ll cut his hand off and feed it to him for breakfast.”

Rosa glanced at the computer on the desk across the room and saw the screen reflecting the corridor where she had examined the eight bodies. She didn’t have to say a word about the man’s assault, he had seen if for himself.

Hans watched his sister move to the door and lay her hand on it, but before she had the chance to leave, he stopped her.

“Tell Anson to come here,” he told her. “I have a job for him.”

Hans watched Rosa nod silently, then leave the room, before turning his attention back to the trainee in front of him. She was doing quite well for a second level, though there was still a lot of hesitation on her part. The problem was, he was finding it difficult getting Cassie off his mind.

When Dieter cut her out of her clothing, he was amazed at how perfect she was. Not only beautiful in the face, but her breasts were exquisite, and her small frame was exactly the sort of eye candy he enjoyed looking at.

He would have to think hard about keeping her for himself or placing her on the inventory list. One thing he knew for certain, he would be the one to take her virginity, and he would make it an event she would never forget. If he claimed her for himself, he would have to work very hard to train her to his satisfaction. She was an American, which meant she was independent and strong-willed. Americans thought of themselves as superior beings. The women were the worst of all. They enjoyed freedoms that only men should embrace and demanded equal independence.

As he considered the ways he would train the beautiful virgin, he could feel his erection harden. He looked down at the girl in front of him and smiled. He was going to enjoy teaching Cassidy Wynn how a man liked to have his dick sucked.

Before Hans had the chance to go further, a knock sounded at the door. With a deep breath to steady his libido, he called out and watched Anson push the door open.

“Rosa said you wished to see me, My Lord?” he asked, glancing at the girl on her knees.

“500 told me that 326 was engaged, but that’s a story that I was not told. I want to know which one is lying. Interrogate 326 thoroughly and report your findings to me by morning.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Anson replied, then turned and left the room.

If Sophia was engaged, it could prove more complications to his façade. It was one thing to have Cassie come looking for her friend, but to have a man come snooping, was something completely different. The townspeople wouldn’t hesitate to talk to a man, and with a few beers, their tongues would loosen, and who knew what might be revealed.

On the other hand, if Cassie was the one who lied, then he would take great pleasure in punishing her. He would teach her not to lie to her new master, in ways that she would never forget.

Hans once again looked down at the young redhead between his legs and smiled. He wrapped his hand in her soft hair and pulled her up against him, hard. She struggled against the length of him as he pushed into her throat, choking her with the power of his erection. He wrapped her ponytail around his fist and pulled her away from him, allowing her to draw a deep breath before pushing her up against him again.

Three long turns of choking her continued until he filled her throat with the surge of his orgasm. She hadn’t had time to catch her breath before he plunged down her throat as far as he could, causing her to panic. When at last he pulled out of her, she was red-faced and gasped for air. Her mouth was filled with the last few drops of his climax, and he frowned when she began spitting it out, coughing and gasping for air.

Hans stood and adjusted his clothing, then reached down to the girl’s hair once more. He pulled her roughly to her feet, ignoring the whimper of pain she offered. He walked her to a long-padded, waist-high bench, that stood across the room, and all but flung her across it. Without a word, he grabbed her by the wrists and secured her to the wall, forcing her to stretch on her tiptoes across the top of the bench.

Once her legs were spread wide and tethered to the supports of the bench, Hans took the long leather strap from the wall and slapped it across her buttocks, hard enough to leave a red mark, then frowned when she cried out. He struck her three more times, each one harder than the one before, until he was calm enough to explain her indiscretions.

“When your Master cums in your mouth, you are to swallow it,” he growled angrily. “If you throw up, you begin again. If you spit it out, you will be beaten. Do you understand me?”

“Yes Master,” the girl sobbed, yelping when he struck her again.

“You will not cry out, you will not shed another tear, and you will thank me for your lesson,” he ordered her, striking her twice more.

The girl bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out again, her fists clenching the chain holding her to the wall, to contain the pain radiating down her legs. Hans gave her three more hard strikes before he unfastened his pants and pulled them off. He walked to the cabinet in the corner and removed a bottle of oil, then returned to stand behind her, pouring the oil across his erection. The beating he had given her made his blood boil and he was ready to fill her tight orifices with his rock-hard erection.

With a wicked smile, he grabbed her sore, red ass and spread her cheeks apart. His thumbs slid into the tight opening, stretching her wide enough for the tip of his penis. He positioned himself against her, then pushed hard, filling her with the length of his firm shaft in a single thrust. He pounded against her sore bottom, harder and harder, as roughly as possible, slapping her bottom repeatedly. He wanted her to cry out, he wanted to make her feel the pain of his anger, but she was tough.

He felt a sense of pride for her training, but he knew he could break her. He was stronger and more experienced in the techniques of pain and pleasure. Hans reached down and wrapped his arms through her legs, and pulled her up, tugging her tightly against her restraints. Her stomach was pressed across the bench, as he slammed his hips against her buttocks over and over until she relented and cried out in agony.

The power of his assault made him feel a sense of pride, and he was satisfied that he had broken the girl. He quickly filled her with the heat of his release, then slapped her sore bottom one last time before releasing her legs back to the floor. He pulled out of her and unfastened her limbs, allowing her to lay across the bench sobbing.

Hans adjusted his clothing once more and moved to the phone on his desk. He dialed the extension for the guards participating in the day’s lessons and ordered Liam to his chambers. He glanced back to the girl and smiled at the red streaks across her bottom.

His father always told him, if you’re going to punish a woman you made certain she remembered it. This one would remember the day she insulted her master, for a long time to come. The next time he called for her, she would understand what he expected.

Liam knocked on the door with his usual three raps, as Hans moved to the bar and poured a glass of bourbon. He looked up as the door opened and watched the dark man glance from the woman to the Baron.

“Take her to the Exchange Room,” Hans ordered the large black man. “Have Erich join you. I want you to teach the bitch not to disobey a man’s orders again.”

“Yes, Your Lordship,” Liam answered, his large muscles straining against his shirt as he lifted the woman like a bag of potatoes, tossing her across his shoulder.

“Show her what her holes are for, and I want them all filled to satisfaction,” Hans continued, walking back to his chair. “Let her see how well a double play works for male enjoyment. When you’ve finished, bathe her and lock her in the cage without supper, until morning.”

“Yes, Your Lordship,” the man answered with a half grin that promised the woman would learn her lesson well.

Hans sat back down in his chair as Liam closed his door. He picked up the folder Rosa gave him once again and flipped to the last report. Cassie was going to prove to be his greatest weakness or his most profitable sale. It all depended on the next few weeks, and how well she obeyed his commands.

Regardless, he would find great pleasure in teaching her how to respect a man, and the many ways a woman’s body was made for his fulfillment.

Cassie woke to a fuzzy sensation in her head, and she tried to roll over. The bed was small, and the blanket was thin, and for a few moments, she tried to focus on where she was. The last thing she could remember was listening to the girls’ performance at the tavern. Then she met that man, that Baron Sophia told her about.

No, she thought, that wasn’t the last thing that happened. She remembered talking on the phone, and then typing a text, but what did it say. Her head felt like it was floating several feet above her body, and she felt as if she was spinning in a tornado. She tried to sit up but fell back against the hard mattress with a moan. She had never felt like this before. It was a fearful feeling, mixed with anger, frustration, and nausea.

Then she heard a noise and forced her eyes to open. Somewhere close by, she could hear a soft whimper and moaning, and she knew the sounds hadn’t come from her. She tried again to sit up, this time succeeding enough to raise her head higher than the mattress.

“Cassie,” she heard her name called, and she fought to open her eyes. “Cassie, are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” she answered in a weak voice. “What happened?”

“I think we were drugged,” a second voice said, and Cassie struggled to open her eyes.

The only light in the room shined through a glass panel in a door on the opposite side of the room, and she frowned as she tried to remember how they got here. She blinked several times, bringing her eyes into clearer focus each time until at last, they were open.

“Where are we?” she asked, glancing around to the row of small, single beds.

“It’s not hell,” a voice at the end of the row said, causing her to turn and see Violetta struggling to sit up. “I can’t imagine hell being this bad.”

“I can’t remember anything after the van broke down,” Isabella said, standing, and staggering slowly across the cold floor to look out the small window in the closed, white door.

“The van,” Cassie said bringing the events into proper order. “Of course, there was smoke coming out from under the seat. When I tried to reach it…I must have passed out.”

“The van breaking down was a trick,” Sister Anne said, pulling herself up off the mattress of another small bed.

“Then that means…” Francesca’s voice trailed off as she looked around the room.

“It means, your stupid phone call to your sweetheart, got us all kidnapped,” Maria said angrily, causing Bianca to moan at the sound of her sister’s voice reverberating off the walls.

“What am I wearing?” Justina asked, sitting up slowly in the bed and looking down.

The rest of the girls looked down at the thin, peach-colored chemise across their bodies, and Cassie realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She couldn’t remember changing clothes, and none of them owned anything like this. The material was silky, like nylon, and thin - very thin. It was little more than flimsy tissue covering their bodies. The hem rested mid-thigh, and the thin straps were barely wider than a piece of spaghetti. Cassie doubted it would be strong enough to hold it on her if she were to sneeze hard and dreaded the event of finding out if it would.

“I don’t know what happened, but I think we’ve been assaulted,” Bianca said, holding her arm with the gauze from where she’d had her blood drawn, out to the others.

They all looked down in unison and saw matching bandages and frowned again. Why would anyone want to take their blood?

“Cassie, what’s happening?” Justina asked in a soft, frightened voice.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s good.”

“How do we get out of here?” Francesca asked, her voice shaking with fear.

“We don’t,” Isabella said, pulling on the locked door. “We’re locked in and we have no clothes. We’re at the mercy of whoever is in control.”

“I would wager to guess, that is Baron von Hennhofen,” Anne said with a deep frown.

“So, what do we do now?” Bianca asked, moving her feet across the mattress and standing up.

“We wait and see what they plan on doing with us,” Cassie told her.

“Your report, that article you wrote,” Maria began, “you said that the women who were stolen, were sold into prostitution. Do you think that’s what he plans to do with us?”

“Considering how we’re dressed, I’d say that was the idea.”

“I can’t live that life again,” Anne said softly, pulling the thin blanket up across her shoulders and torso.

“What do you mean?” Cassie asked with a frown.

Anne looked to the girls, then closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. If she was going to die, she wanted someone to know her secrets.

“I was raped by my step-father when I was a teenager,” she began. “My mother was an alcoholic, and when she would pass out, he would come to my room. I ran away when I was thirteen because I was pregnant. I started down a very dark path; drinking, drugs…prostitution. I gave birth to a baby boy, who was taken away the moment his cord was cut. The nurses didn’t think I should have him. I never saw him again. When I was released from the hospital, I spent two weeks wandering the streets, until one night when I stumbled into a mission. The priest took pity on me and sent me to the convent. I was so grateful, that I gave my life to God, and I’ve never regretted it, but that part of my life…was horrifying. I can’t do it again. I’ll die before I allow anything like that to happen.”

“You can’t be blamed for something that was out of your control,” Cassie told her. “Just because you made mistakes as a child, doesn’t dictate to your life as an adult.”

“The gardener raped me,” Francesca said in a very small voice, so soft she could barely be heard.

“What gardener?” Anne asked with a frown.

“The black one, from Africa. I was fifteen. He asked me to help him bring some flowers out of the work shed. When I went in, he closed the door and locked it.”

“He did the same thing to me, last year,” Isabella said, looking down to the stone floor.

“And me,” Bianca said, watching Violetta nod her head.

“I will kill him with my own hands,” Anne said angrily.

“First, we must get out of here,” Cassie reminded her.

“How do you suggest we do that?” Maria asked, pulling the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around her.

“I don’t know,” she said with a deep sigh. “But I doubt we’ll have long to wait. Once they realize we’re awake, they’ll come for us, and then…”

Cassie glanced at the camera in the corner of the room and frowned. She knew who was on the other end, and as much as she wanted to scream, she was more afraid of what he had in mind. Instead, the girls each returned to the cots they woke up on and tried to remain calm.

Time slipped by quietly, but they had no idea what time it was, or even what day. For all they knew, they could have been there for a few hours, or a week. The girls curled up on the thin, hard mattresses, wrapping up as snugly as possible in the worn blankets. They remained silent as they anticipated their fate, each one considering what the future would bring.

Cassie jumped when the sound of the door being unbolted, echoed through the room’s silence. She looked up to the large black man who stepped in, fighting the lump that rose to her throat. The girls were silent as the man looked at each of them in turn, a long wooden paddle in his hand. His dark eyes seemed to burn holes into everything they looked at, and they did little to warm the fear settling around the room.

“You will line up, single file, starting with 501,” the man said in a deep, firm voice that sounded like the soft growl of a beast. “500, you’re to fall in at the end of the line.”

Cassie frowned, realizing the man was speaking perfect English with very little hint of an accent, then looked around, noticing the numbers around their necks.

“What are these?” she asked, pulling on the band around her neck.

“Take them off, and you’ll be punished,” the man warned her. “That number is your name. You will no longer be called by anything but your number, so learn it and answer it when it’s called out. You,” the man said, pointing the stick to Sister Anne. “You are 501. Now line up. The next time you’re told to do something, you’ll do it without hesitation, or you will receive one lashing for every second you hesitated.”

Anne stood and looked around, then wrapped the blanket across her slender frame as she slowly walked forward. The man reached out and took hold of the blanket she had around her and jerked it off.

“You have the clothing of a slave,” he growled. “You do not deserve anything more. Remove the blankets, or you will be whipped where you stand.”

Each girl stood in turn and quietly lowered the blankets to the mattresses, then began to line up. Cassie watched as the girls nudged the next number forward until she was the only one remaining. She stood and drew a deep breath, then removed the blanket and squared her shoulders. She stepped in line and gently hugged Bianca who began to cry.

“Do not touch each other, unless you are told to. Your bodies belong to your master, and he will decide who touches them, and when. Now go out into the hallway and stand on the yellow line in front of the elevator. Do not move, and do not speak.”

Anne glanced behind her, then did as she was told, leading the rest of them into the corridor. She paused by the elevator and looked down at her near-naked body, her bare feet aching as she stood on the cold stone floor. She shivered with fear, but not knowing what was going to happened seemed to warm the chill off her as soon as she felt it.

The man walked behind them, slapping Bianca hard on the buttocks and ordering her to stand on the line, then moved around to the front of them and pressed in a code for the lift. When the doors opened, he swung the stick he held toward the box and watched as the girls silently filed in. He stepped forward and pressed the button for the first floor. That meant, they were in a basement, though they’d never known a basement that was so cold.

As the doors closed and the box began a slow ascent upwards, the girls turned to Cassie with fearful frowns. There was a lot to be said about all of this, but until she had a few more details, she would only be speculating.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, the man stepped out, followed by Anne, and each girl in turn. Cassie looked around as they were led down the corridor, taking in every inch of her surroundings. They passed by a glass door that held the German words, Medizinische Abteilung.

She looked inside and saw a woman in a white lab coat, a tall glass cabinet with vials of medication, and an exam bed. She glanced again to the words, mentally guessing the room was used as a hospital or a medical unit. They walked past another room, this one enclosed entirely in glass.

Cassie stared as she passed, frowning at the style of the room. There was one long narrow table with attached bench seats, like those used in school cafeterias. There was a serving area with metal bins for food, and on the opposite side of the room were three upholstered sofas in plain classic beige and a long narrow coffee table. A large silver machine with ice and water stood in the corner, and the room looked as sterile as the hallway did, with tiled floors and walls, but there were no windows, only the lights hanging from the ceiling.

They passed by two more closed doors in the concrete walls. Each one held a single word and a number. 'Schulungsraum 1', and 'Schulungsraum 2'.

She wanted to ask the man questions; where were they, what was happening, where was he taking them, but she knew from his warning, asking may be more painful than not knowing.

The small group continued to walk past closed doors, and down corridors until they finally reached their destination.

'Duschen Eins' read a plaque on the wall outside of the closed door.

“You will go inside, take off your clothes, hang them on the hooks, then stand, facing the walls, hands by your sides,” the man ordered. “No talking and no noise.”

Cassie looked at the man’s chest, reading the familiar writing on the polo shirt. Liam, Head Trainer. She realized Hans had sent the van to pick them up and it was his man who had captured them.

Anne opened the door as Liam ordered, and walked inside, followed by the others. The room was narrow and long, with the walls and floor covered in white one-foot square tiles. There were four small drains in the floor, and the ceiling held a dozen recessed lights illuminating the room. A small narrow cupboard stood in the corner, and a red faucet protruded from the wall beside it. The scent of bleach hung in the air, mixing with the fear of what was about to happen.

Once inside with the door closed, they turned around to see the man had not followed them in and sighed a breath of relief.

“What is this place?” Cassie whispered once she realized they were alone.

“It’s the showers,” Anne said in a whisper barely above the sound of the wind.

“Where are they?” Isabella asked, looking around the room.

There were no sinks, no toilets, no mirrors, and nothing more than a few hooks on the back wall to break up the sterility of the room. The fear of punishment hung in their minds and each girl slowly began to remove their chemise, then hung them on the hooks. They weren’t wearing any underwear, so changing was quick and simple. They moved to the tiled wall and stood facing it, hands at their sides. The room was silent, causing the anxiety of what would happen next, to increase.

Just as Cassie was certain she could bear no more, the door opened and the sound of bare feet on the tile slapped up behind them. She closed her eyes, afraid to turn around, afraid to know who was behind them. The sound of a faucet turning squeaked in the silent room, and a uniformed gasp echoed as cold water sprayed across their backs and hips.

She felt a pair of rough hands begin to scrub her back, hard and rough as the slimy feeling of liquid soap slid down her spine. The hands moved down to her butt and she felt the color steal up her face as her cheeks were spread and the hands moved between them.

The sensation of a warm body pressing against her back made her jump, but the sensation was short-lived, and her head was jerked backwards. She felt the cold-water spray across her again and she shivered, then the sensation of a thick liquid was poured in her hair. Firm fingers massaged her head, pulling through the long strands until she felt the water wash over her again, washing the soap away.

“Turn around,” the man’s voice said, and Cassie nearly yelped, realizing the trainer was in the room with them, watching as they were being scrubbed.

The girls turned to find four naked women standing behind them, three with soap and sponges, one with a long green garden hose. They were older, most likely in their forties, and far from what Cassie would have expected in a whorehouse or even a castle. They were stalky, but not fat, with breasts that hung down their torsos from age.

The women didn’t speak a word, they simply continued to wash the girls, rubbing rough, soapy cloths around their necks, across their breasts, then down their abdomens.

Cassie watched one of the women walk to a large plastic container and pull out five plastic bottles. She removed what looked like gooseneck nozzles and screwed them onto the tops of the bottles.

“501, 503, 504, 505, and 507, step forward,” Liam growled in a low voice that echoed off the walls. “You will spread your legs and bend over, so the workers can clean out your pussies.”

Cassie was embarrassed for the girls as Anne, Isabella, Violetta, Francesca, and Bianca did as they were ordered. The three women took the bottles and inserted them into their vaginas and squeezed the fluid out until the bottles were empty. Violetta started to straighten up, when Liam took a large step forward, slapping her backside with the stick.

"You did not have permission to stand,” he growled. “Grasp your ankles and stick your ass out.”

The girl did as she was told, then gasped when he slapped her again.

“You will receive three strikes. Each time you make a sound, you will receive one more, until you learn to keep your mouth shut and obey. Do you understand me?”

“Y…yes…” the girl said in a small voice.

“You are to address every man you meet from this day forward as Sir unless it is the Master. Do you understand me?”

“Y…yes…Sir…” Violetta answered.

Liam raised the stick in the air and struck the girl’s bare buttocks three times, making the last one the hardest. The girl yelped with the force and received another one.

“You are to kneel at my feet and beg for forgiveness for not obeying my orders,” Liam told her. “Do you understand me?”

“Y…yes…S…Sir,” the girl sobbed, fighting to keep her voice steady.

Cassie looked away, watching the women continue their tasks of cleaning out the women’s bodies with the plastic bottles until they finished. The rest of the girls remained bent forward, afraid to move after witnessing Violetta’s assault.

The tall brunette knelt on her knees, her face lowered in shame as Liam stood in front of her.

“Pl...please forgive me…Sir…” she said, forcing the words from her lips.

“Since this was your first occurrence, you will not receive the full extent of punishment, but remember yourself in the future. From this moment on, you are slaves, nothing more. You do not deserve patience. You do not deserve kindness. You will not receive sympathy. You will be treated as slaves, and you will learn to obey as slaves. Do you understand me?”

The girls mumbled a soft, 'yes sir' in reply, only to have the man growl under his breath.

“You last three, spread your legs so the workers can wash your pussies,” he ordered. “The rest of you, stand up and return to the wall, turn around and face it with your hands to your sides.”

Cassie blushed a scarlet red, but obeyed, as did the others while they mumbled a quiet yes sir to the man. The sensation of the cloths rubbing against her tender flesh stung, and she found herself biting the inside of her cheek to keep from scolding the women, ordering them to be gentler.

Once more the girls were subjected to the cold spray from the hose, rinsing any residue of soap off their bodies. When they were finished, they shut off the hose and unfastened it from the faucets. They wound it up and placed it in the cupboard, then left the room, dripping wet and completely naked.

“Squat on the floor and pee before you leave the room, but do not get it on your legs or you will be punished. If you need to shit, use the drains. There will be no toilet available for the next four hours.”

The girls shivered as they tried to stand still, watching Liam walk to the only cupboard in the room, and pull out a stack of towels. He turned back and narrowed his eyes to the line of girls.

“I said squat,” he ordered, waiting as each girl did as she was told. “If you do not pee now, you will cause yourself to have an infection. If that happens, you will be punished. This is your toilet. I suggest you make use of it while you have it.”

He tossed a towel to each girl, dropping them onto the wet floor, listening to the splatter of liquid against the tiles.

“Dry off and get dressed, then line up in the hall,” he ordered. “You have one minute. Keep me waiting and you’ll be punished.”

The man left the room, allowing the girls a chance to take a deep breath and try to relax. They rubbed the rough towels across their tender skin, red from the scrubbing they had just received, then struggled to pull the thin fabric of their chemise across their damp torsos.

Anne looked to the others with a fearful expression. She was considering finding some way of bolting the door and remaining inside forever. Cassie could see her hesitation, and she reached out and squeezed her hand, nodding a simple expression of courage to the woman.

“It’s not worth it,” she whispered. “We’ll find a way out. I promise.”

Slowly, they turned and walked to the door, pulling it open. Outside, the man stood waiting, a stopwatch in his hand. He shut it off when Cassie exited the room, then turned and led them back down the corridor. They paused in front of the two closed doors they had passed a few minutes earlier, waiting for the next event in the day’s lineup.

“501, 503, and 505, in this room. Line up against the wall and remain silent. 502, 504, 506, in this room. 507 and 500, stay here. Stand against the wall and wait for your turn. You are to remain silent until your number is called.”

Cassie and Bianca moved to the wall and stood, as the doors to the rooms opened. Two men stepped out of each of the rooms as the women entered, and the doors closed. Liam stood between the two doors, his arms folded across his chest as he stared at Cassie and Bianca.

Several long moments passed by, then Cassie jumped, hearing the screams of Anne echoing through the door. Bianca closed her eyes when Justina’s small voice cried out in pain from the second room, and she felt the tears forming in her eyes.

Seconds turned into minutes as the voices of their friends echoed through the hallway. If they were going to kill them, this was most likely the best way to do it. Behind closed doors, with the others watching in horror.

The first door opened, and Anne, Isabella, and Francesca walked out. Their faces were wet with tears, their wrists and ankles red, and on their bottoms and thighs beneath the thin fabric of their clothes were red with the marks of a whip.

“507, inside,” the man growled, and Bianca shook her head in horror. “Move, or it gets worse,” he warned her.

Slowly, Bianca took a step forward, looking to the three who had been ordered to line up outside the door. The two men glanced at Cassie before the door closed, and one smiled a half-grin to her as he brushed his long brown-blonde hair from his face, as if to say he was enjoying his work.

Before Bianca’s screams could be heard, the second door opened, and Justina, Violetta, and Maria stepped out. They looked exactly like the others, red marks slashed across their bodies, their faces wet with tears and their lungs heaving softly with hidden sobs. Justina’s lip was bleeding, and there was a purple mark across her cheek. Cassie fought the urge to punch the man who stepped out behind her, in his arrogant nose. She recognized him as the same one who had driven their getaway van.

“500, move,” the black man ordered.

Cassie squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stepped forward. She stared at the man as she passed him, looking him in the eye with defiance. She was silently daring him to touch her. As angry as she was, she felt positive she would be able to knock him on his large ass.

The door closed behind her, and the two men stepped forward. They were both much larger than she was, but right now, she didn’t care. She stood before them, proud and firm, and they merely smiled down at her.

“Take off your clothes and stand in front of the bench,” the first man ordered.

Cassie glanced to the name on his shirt and read Anson, Trainer, then did exactly as she was told, using two fingers to drop her chemise to the wooden chair beside the door with all the arrogance she could muster. She stood against the bench, patient, silent, waiting for the man to begin. Anson stepped forward, taking her wrists, and securing thick leather straps around them, then jerked her hands forward, tethering the straps to a chain in the wall.

He bent over and took each leg, strapping her ankles in turn to the legs of the bench, then moved her hair across her shoulder and stepped up behind her. She could hear their loud rustling and knew they were taking their time to make the suspense seem worse than it needed to be. But it was exactly what she needed to brace herself.

Slowly, she drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had lived through a considerable amount of pain in her life, and even though most of it had been emotional, she was strong enough to endure this. She would not surrender to their sick pleasure of breaking her will.

“You will receive six lashes,” a deep voice said, while she continued to focus her mind on relaxing. “When you have received your final one, we will release you, and you will thank us for teaching you, your first lesson in obedience.”

Cassie didn’t answer, she remained silent as the men continued to move about the room. She heard the leather strap rustle as it was raised in the air, then clenched her jaw as it struck against her hips. She felt the harsh sting but refused to allow them the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt. The second strike came quickly after the first, followed by the third, and then the fourth.

The room was silent, despite the pain radiating up her spine, and across her hips. She could deal with this, she assured herself. She was strong, she was proud, and she was not going to allow them the satisfaction of knowing they were hurting her.

Again, the strap struck her flesh, and again she remained silent. She could feel their anger and confusion with her silence, and she knew the last strike was going to be the worse one of all. She braced herself, holding onto the chain with her hands and took a deep breath. She held it tight in her lungs, forcing herself to stop panting.

When the strap struck her the last time, she felt as if her spine had snapped in half. The force behind it was harder than all the others put together, but she fought to contain her anguish. She slowly let out her breath and drew another, long slow breath, to help calm her quivering body.

“You little bitch,” the voice growled in a deep German accent. Then she heard the strap raise again.

“No!” Anson said, and she braced herself as the strap slapped her across the shoulders, striking her cheek and ear.

The sting was horrendous, and she felt as if she was going to faint. The pain traveled across her in waves of heat, and she could feel her nerve endings screaming for relief.

“You idiot,” Anson growled. “He will kill you when he learns what you’ve done. He ordered six lashes, no more.”

“But the bitch refused to break,” Axel growled angrily. “I will break her. I will make her beg me for mercy.”

“No, you won’t. It’s over, and she’s received her lesson. That’s all she gets.”

Cassie felt a cool wind wash over her as the door opened, the light from the hall was blocked out by the large dark figure of the man filling the threshold.

“She’s received her punishment,” he growled in a voice that reverberated off the concrete walls. “Release her.”

Cassie felt the straps release around her wrists and ankles and found herself clinging to the bench for several moments, before forcing her back to straighten. Liam handed her the thin chemise she had removed a few moments before and stared at her with a curious frown.

She clenched her jaw as tightly as she could, forcing her arms into the top of the garment and pulling it down across her torso. She balled her hands into fists to give her something else to focus on, besides the pain. Just the touch of the fabric against her flesh sent electrical shocks traveling down her body. The weight of her hair pressing against the material made it mold to the sweat beading across her chest and back. She turned to the two men and raised her chin defiantly. The look of rebellion shined in her eyes, and she forced as much sarcasm as she could create into her voice.

“Thank you,” she told them in a firm, strong tone, watching the shocked expressions pull their jaws open.

Cassie glared at the man who still had the whip in his hand and offered him a soft snarled curl of her lip before turning and walking to the door. The movement of her legs beneath her was stronger than she would have thought possible.

The girls were lined up by order of their numbers and looked at her in stunned silence as she stepped into line behind Bianca. If this was their first lesson, then Cassie was fairly confident there would be more beatings, and she could almost guarantee that each time would be worse than the first, in the attempt to break her.

The black man moved to the front of the line, escorting them back down the hall to the glass-enclosed room. As Cassie forced herself to walk forward, she glanced up to see the camera focused on the hallway and glared angrily to the unseen eyes that watched her. She was going to find a way out of this nightmare, and she was going to make certain the barbarian behind the torture paid for his involvement.

Hans watched Cassie look up into the camera and frowned at the arrogant, angry expression on her face. He had seen her punishment and saw the added strike the man gave her. If Liam hadn’t interrupted, he was ready to go down and deal with Axel himself. Then the woman stood and the look of defiance on her beautiful face, though black and white with the camera, was enough to make his blood boil. It was no wonder his man lost control.

The woman was going to be a challenge, he thought as he stood and walked to the bar, pouring the dark liquid into his glass. But wasn’t that what he was looking for? He needed a mate who would bring him hours of enjoyment in bed while motivating him to remain strong. With all the obedience in his life, a little defiance would prove erotic, even inviting. The woman would prove to be a fierce lover if her actions in the training room were any indication of her inner spirit.

Their child would indeed be strong and powerful, Hans thought, lifting the glass to his lips. He would have his father’s intellect and his mother’s determination. Together, they would create an heir worthy of his title. They would make a man who would rule this empire with a hand far superior than all the gods of Olympus put together.