The man gave a low chuckle, tossed his hat on the sofa across from him and ran his
fingers through his hair before addressing her again.  “We actually had some nurse tell us
all about how different levels of this or that were enhanced or multiplied by the
epidemic.  She offered to try to help us balance or offset the condition.”
     
     Sabra thought of Jocelyn’s discovery and wondered if the man was open to a
suggestion of trying, until he said, “She is now on her knees by her master like she
should be, and she doesn’t try to tell us how she wants to turn us back into the castrated
geldings we were before this new order.”
     
     “You will be serving my needs and desires, just as women were meant to do before
they decided to try to grow balls and put themselves in a fantasy world of equality with
us.  The fact that you are bound and standing before me should assure you of our
superiority.”
     
     Sabra began to back up and shake her head.  The man’s words were insane… completely
insane… and yet, she felt a twinge low in her belly.  It scared her, because she
recognized it as the first stirring of arousal she had experienced since the early months
after the epidemic when she still missed the comfort of a man.
     
     “Stand still,” he thundered.  “I did not give you permission to move.”
     
     Sabra’s eyes searched wildly around the room for escape as she kept backing away. 
He quickly stormed over to her and gripped the leash just under her throat.  “You have
earned a fourth punishment.”  He felt the masterful swelling of his organ as she trembled
harder and her green eyes filled with liquid fear.
     
     His free hand reached around her back and pulled the securing lace loose from her
wrist cuffs.  Sabra’s arms swung to the front, and she attempted to pry his fingers off
the leash to push him away.  He tightened his grip and lifted her to her toes.  “Put your
hands at your sides, slave.”  His smile was contemptuous as his eyes challenged her to
dispute his claim.
     
     The collar was choking her, and after a couple more futile attempts to get him to
release the leash, she dropped her arms down to her sides.  “There are very few rules. 
Acknowledge me as your Master; make your only desire to please me, and obey me.”  He
stared into her terrified face and was almost throbbing with the need to spread her over
the desk and thrust into her.  “Three rules.  You have been told what they are, and any
infraction will result in punishment.”  He released her collar and sat back in his chair,
while Sabra stared at him in mute horror.
     
     “Strip.  Let me see my new possession.”  His eyes pierced her through the shadow of
the room, and she remained frightened and immobile.  A smile lifted the corner of his
mouth as he said, “That will be your fifth punishment.  I think I’m going to enjoy
training you.”