The Tale of Pretty Ass

                                       

Chapter Eleven                                

Mon morn email to Juliet at office

Juliet;

Instructions as follows:

1/clothing, outerwear

Henceforth, you are forbidden to wear trousers. You may continue to wear conservative business suits and dresses.

2/underclothes

Beginning one week from today, all underwear will be put on and removed while your wrists and ankles are shackled. You are to wear nylon stockings with a garterbelt, not the hold up style of stockings. If your breasts require the support, you may wear  longline strapless bras; however, they are to be altered by the addition of jewelry sewn to the outside to designs of your own. The garments are to be modeled for my approval before you wear them.

3/jewellery/ chains & locks

On your lunchhour today, you will find a hardware store and purchase stainless steel chain. Ensure the chain is smooth, as you will be wearing it against your skin much of the time. Purchase the chain in lengths of 24 inches, 36 inches and 48 inches. In addition, you will purchase a set of six padlocks, keyed alike, waterproof and decorative. Ensure the hasp of the padlocks will fit through the links of chain. Also, as of one P.M. today, you will wear at all times not less than three bangles on each wrist. Your watch, if any, will be a clip on or pin type that can be worn as a brooch.

Before you return to your office, put on the chains and padlocks as follows:

Lock the short length around your waist; padlock at the back.

Lock the middle length around your hips, shackle of the lock through two links of the chain at your navel, the middle of the chain draped across your ass.

Hold the centre of the long chain at your throat, padlock snugly around your neck, take the ends underneath your arms and padlock  between your breasts. Snap the remaining two padlocks around the chain across your ass. Keep two keys for yourself; send the remainder,  together with the packaging from the locks and a key to your apartment, to me, via express courier. I shall expect them to be delivered by six P.M. today.

I shall expect you to be home by 6:00 P.M. each day this week. I will contact you via Yahoo messenger sometime before ten-thirty. You have thirty seconds to answer. The penalty for delay will be one stroke per second.  Immediately upon entering your apartment, you will strip. You will then unlock the two shorter chains. Wrap one end of the thirty-six inch chain around your right ankle, secure with a padlock, pass the other end through a bangle, wrap and secure your left ankle. Use the other chain for your wrists, making sure to fasten the right one first and also to pass the other end through the same bangle. Then, you will put on a pair of five-inch heels. Only after all this has been completed are you permitted to move from the front hall of your apartment.

You may have soup and salad for dinner. You are to kneel in the middle of your living room to eat.  Place that 18-inch block of wood between your knees whenever you kneel. Face the mirror while you eat, mind your posture. Remember that once you’re shackled, you may not have your hands in front of your body unless you’re doing something with them (AND TWIDDLING YOUR THUMBS DOES NOT COUNT).

After dinner, you will go through your wardrobe, discarding all trousers and shorts, saving the oldest, most badly worn pair of jeans in your possession. These are to be turned into extremely brief cutoffs. Leg and waist openings are to be reinforced with stainless steel chain in a roll of leather. ½ inch of chain is to be left exposed at each end for the padlock. A pad of steerhide is to be sewn and riveted into the inside of the crotch, rough side in. You will need to use washers so the rivets do not tear through the fabric. A small bell is to be sewn to the outside of the crotch, directly below your clit. You are to be wearing this garment when you come out to my place on Friday night. As instructed last night, you are to be kneeling at the back door of my place no later than six PM.  Anything less than superlative workmanship on your chastity shorts will

earn vigourous strokes. Once that garment has been completed, you may begin work on the g-strings you will be wearing in lieu of panties. These must be modeled for my approval before wearing. In constructing these g-strings, you may use 1/8-inch drapery cord or similar size chain. Fabric and colour of your choice but total weight of the garment is not to exceed six ounces. You will make 15 of these before you will be permitted to begin work on slave garments. Until a slave garment has been approved, you will remain nude while inside your apartment. All sewing is to be by hand .It will be acceptable to use jewelry findings for catches with chain, or knots with cord, as you wish.

Regarding the two keys, one is to be secured to the top of the baseboard to the right of your front door on a six-inch chain. The other is to hang on the headboard of your bed above your left hand.

You will prepare for bed at ten forty-five. You are to sleep wearing a blindfold, a whiffle ball gag and your three-foot spreader bar on your ankles, all of these locked on. Your last act is to unlock your left wrist, pull the chain through the bangle, wrap the chain around three of the bars of your headboard and lock the chain to your left wrist. Be sure you’ve set your alarm for six. You are to be locked up by eleven. Further instructions will be forthcoming tonight.

Sir Paul

Yahoo messenger conversation 9:45 that evening

Good evening, SIR.

Hello, girl; 37 seconds to reply means seven strokes.

Yes, Sir; Thank you, Sir.

Did you follow all the instructions from this morning? I received the package at 5:45: did the courier understand the urgency of getting there before six?

Yes, Sir; it is a service we use all the time for important legal docs, they’ve never let us down before.

I had to take an extra long lunch today in order to find the locks to go with the chain. I spent all morning on the phone to every hardware store in the city. I told them I needed six small padlocks, keyed alike, waterproof and decorative but sturdy and that I wanted at least three keys. I finally had to go out to Lee Valley on Steeles Ave. These are a lot bigger than I was hoping for, 1 ½ H x 1 ¾ W x 5/8 T, coated in blue plastic, but guaranteed to be waterproof which is a good thing as I’m certain to be wearing them in the shower.

Never mind, they’ll do for the moment; I’ll find something a little more feminine for you. How many bangles are you wearing on your wrists right now?

Six on each one, Sir; the jeweler had a special on 14 CT. 5 inch bangles which my hands are just barely small enough to get into. I figured I would need the extra ones for something or other, maybe modifying that bra or as part of a slave garment.

You will indeed, although I was thinking of costume jewelry.

I thought of costume stuff, but a garment eventually has to be washed; I didn’t think the costume stuff would hold up.

A valid point. Did you pickup any other jewelry while you were out?

No, Sir; He said he would have some very nice chain next week and I wasn’t sure how much I would need or what lengths to buy, anyway. I’ll go in next Monday and pick up whatever I need for immediate use on the g-strings.

And the materials for the chastity shorts?

I didn’t have time on my lunch hour today, I’ll try to find a leather place tomorrow; I have selected the pair of jeans to be cut off but I’m still trying to work out a design.

Are you wearing five-inch heels now?

Yes, Sir; I stopped on the way home and bought a pair of mules with five inch heels. I knew I didn’t have any close enough to the front door. It will take some getting used to if I am to walk in these things as they flop around on my feet quite a lot.

Wear them this weekend, I’ll see what can be done.

Did you have any problem with the lengths of chain

No big problem although sitting on the chain and two padlocks all afternoon was quite uncomfortable.

So sad! I BELIEVE YOU REQUESTED ME TO PROVIDE STRICT INSTRUCTIONS?

Yes, Sir and that email was perfect…thank you, Sir. I hope there will be much more of the same sort of thing.

I suppose that could be arranged. Nothing more this week as you have quite enough to be working on as it is.

Just the chastity shorts, Sir and where did you get the deliciously cruel idea of having the rough side of the steerhide facing in? I’ll be in torment the entire time I’m wearing them.

You said you want some measure of physical discomfort as part of your obedience training. Are you already wimping out on me?

Oh no, Sir…. I’ll do it and I’m sure I’ll love the torture. I can’t wait to find out what you come up with next.

In time, be patient. You said just the shorts, what about bras, or are you planning on going braless next Monday?

I have a couple of bras with detachable straps, which should be easy enough to remove, while I’m shackled.

OK, that’ll work. Any other problems today?

Only that I spent the entire day in wet panties.

Oh?

About a half hour after reading your e mail, I noticed my pussy was soaking wet, I had to stuff paper towels from the bathroom into my panties every hour or I’d have had a huge wet spot on the back of my skirt. From now on, I’ll keep a spare pair in my purse.

I imagine the aroma was fairly intense in your office.

For sure; several people noticed I had the windows open.

And have you gone through your wardrobe?

Not quite finished yet, there is still the stuff in my laundry basket. I’ve pulled out all my pants, most of my panties, all of my pantyhose, most of my bras and all of my slips. I’ve put them all into a garbage bag to take to the Goodwill.

Very good. Don’t forget to be in bed as described. I have your apartment key. I will be dropping by at irregular intervals to check up on you. Don’t be surprised if you wake up to find yourself in the middle of vigourous sex.

OOH! Eager anticipation! You sure know how to provide incentive to obey your rules.

Some reward to go with the discomfort.

YES. SIR…THANK YOU, SIR.

Good night, sweet girl, see you on Friday night

Yes, Sir…I’ll be kneeling at your back door at six PM, as ordered, goodnight SIR.

By this time, it was near ten thirty, just time to go through her laundry basket, then evening ablutions.

At 10:55, she reached her left hand to turn off the lamp on the night table, wrapped the chain around her left wrist, secured it with the padlock and settled into her first evening of bondage alone but still under His control.

End Chapter Eleven

                                               

                                               

CHAPTER TWELVE

Waking Tuesday morning, her time sense said she still had about ten minutes until her radio would come on. Just time to revel in her bonds and review the most delightful weekend of her life and the delicious prospect of a lifetime more of the same. Saturday night was wonderful; such creative bondage and the training…ooh, exquisite, her mound gets instantly wet from the memory alone. She must remember to practice the movements of stepping through her chain so it will be right when she does it for Him on the weekend. She guesses that others might find this training to be degrading but for her it’s just beautifully erotic, the satisfaction of a lifetime dream, a man to submit to and such a man. It’s probably a good thing that he won’t let her wear panties when she’s with Him; they’d be soaking wet all the time anyway. From the conversation at His shop on Saturday, she knew immediately that this man could be relied on. The later talk in the car on the way back to His shop just confirmed her initial impression.

“So Juliet, tell me a little about what sort of bondage you need.”

“Well, the bondage itself is sort of incidental; my preference is chain and locks but I guess rope would be all right, as well. The thing is, doing stuff while I’m restrained; following your commands, doing whatever tasks you set me, while I’m bound. I guess if you wanted to tie me with rope, I’d revel in it but the real turn on for me is performing tasks and rituals.”

“Not into serious pain, then…good…that’s a relief. I had a significant other once upon a time who was a pain freak. Lovemaking was wasted on her unless she had livid welts and weals all over her body. I stood it for six months because of her many accomplishments but I hated beating her, it’s just not me.”

“Not welts, no, but I would want discipline, strict discipline. Mostly, I want a man to set rules and regulations, rituals and procedures…that sort of thing. But he needs to monitor my obedience carefully and be able to punish me for infractions. I need to know that I can’t get away with anything.”

“Punish how? A spanking, a paddle, a flogger or some other type of punishment?”

“That would be pretty much up to you, so long as it doesn’t cause bleeding. Tell me what you mean by other type.”

“Well…the most obvious thing would be to keep you aroused for extended periods without relief. Then there is stuff like public embarrassment or humiliation, minor torture like rubbing Tiger Balm into your clit and nipples, sending you to work in a crotch rope or tight bodystrap or wearing a dildo or butt plug. I’m sure I could come up with more of that sort of thing with a little thought.”

“That all sounds …exciting. I don’t think I’d like the humiliation idea much, but then again, a punishment is not supposed to be enjoyable. How long do you mean by extended periods?”

“That would depend on the severity of the offence. Suppose, for example, that a standard punishment for something was five strokes with a flogger but you kept repeating the action. In that case, a weekend of constant sexual stimulation without any relief for you might just be enough to get your attention.”

“But wouldn’t that be uncomfortable for you?”

“I’d still have the use of your mouth, I think I could survive.”

“What if I orgasm while giving head?”

“Is that a likely possibility, do you think?

“No idea, I’ve never done it before, oral sex I mean. I’ve always wanted to try if I had the right sort of man to do it for.

“OK, we’ll have to see about orgasm control. Any other kinks or desires I should know about?”

“Well, I’ve been fascinated by the concept of body piercing for quite a while now. I guess it’s the thought of wearing a leash attached to some intimate part of my body. The idea gives me such a rush but I’ve never dared to actually do it. The same with branding, the idea of having it done to me gets me wet but the important thing is that it be done by some one else’s will. It wouldn’t mean the same if I did it to myself.”

“I suppose you’d want to be collared, as well?”

“So long as I never see the key, a collar would be wonderful.”

“You prefer metal to leather, I suppose?”

“Well yes, but it isn’t my preference that matters.”

                               

“So you’re really dedicated to being a slave…how does that impact on your career?”

“I don’t see any problem if you want me to continue working; I’d have to keep my collar covered up while I’m at work but otherwise it should be fine. It doesn’t really matter all that much to me, I never had any huge desire to be a lawyer anyway.”

“So why do it, then?”

“When I was ready for college, I had to choose a career path, decide what to do with my life until I found the right man to serve. It came down to a coin toss; the other choice was rocket scientist…well actually nuclear physicist. I just wanted something intensely challenging to occupy my mind while I was marking time on the man front. I don’t mind being a lawyer and I’m good at it and the money is fine, if you want me to continue, I will. What matters to me is obeying the man I choose to serve. If he wants me to bellydance for a living, or wait tables in a bar or deliver the mail, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“How much experience have you had as a dancer?”

“Two years of bellydance classes while I was getting my BA with some public performances afterwards and then I put myself through law school on my earnings as a stripper.”

Suddenly, the radio pulls her from her reverie. CBC Radio Two, the perfect start to the day. She spends fifteen minutes getting out of her bondage and then refastening the essentials, wrist and ankle chains linked through a bangle. Showering, she spends a full twenty minutes just caressing the steel chain padlocked around her neck and chest. He never told her to take it off so she presumes she is to wear it until at least the weekend. The locks are kind of clunky though, maybe she can spend some time looking for more delicate replacements in time for the weekend. On the other hand, she has been given some serious assignments already; maybe she should focus on them. She needs to find a source for leather and the tools to cut and sew it, not to mention the chain she’ll need for her chastity shorts. Oh, and the bell to be sewn to the crotch. She also needs to find a fabric shop so she can start planning her g-strings. The water suddenly turning cold jumpstarts her heart and she hurries to finish washing her hair and scrambles out of the shower. Drying off while chained is not an unusual experience for her but she’s never thought of this particular arrangement. She has to kneel in order to dry her hair and back. What a neat idea. Simply linking her wrist and ankle chains by running them both through a bangle is so much more restrictive…ooh this is a Master worth waiting for. She still can’t believe her luck, that a simple visit to a craftsman’s workshop should lead to the first man to whom she has ever been able to talk about her need for submission. And so easy to talk with, like he’s reading her mind or something. No ridicule, no disgust and he seemed to take the whole thing in stride like it’s the most natural thing in the world. What a relief after the years of terror, how does a submissive woman find the right dominant. And such a man into the bargain…strong, fit, self-controlled, a brilliant craftsman with enough self esteem that he has no reason to lie to her and a fine musician, as well. She wonders what it would be like to dance while he plays his fiddle…oooh, now that’s excitement, her juices are dripping onto the kitchen floor, oh good, a chance to practice stepping through her chains so she can lick up the mess. Reminds her of the countless times she performed the same task under his eye on the weekend. She loves her own taste, especially obtained in such a demeaning way, kneeling, knees widespread, ass high in the air, lapping up her fluids like a cat with the cream. She feels the sway of her breasts against the linoleum, her rock hard nipples sending ripples of pleasure through her body. She’ll need to give her thighs and groin a thorough wipe before getting dressed, and better not forget a spare pair of panties, or maybe two pair, even the thought of him brings a rush of fluid. She hopes he won’t require her to keep working in an office for too many more months, this level of arousal could become serious torture. Good thing she does tax law, imagine standing in front of a judge and jury with juices dripping down her thighs and pooling on the floor. Now there’s an erotic image. Still, she has an early meeting this morning; better get her act together. Wash and dry her breakfast dishes, put them away, head into the bedroom, kick off the five inch mules, climb onto the bed stretching her feet up to the headboard so she can release the chains on her ankles, the last morning she’ll have to do this so early, she’ll pick up stockings and garterbelt today but for the moment, her last day of pantyhose. A pair of bikini panties first, she’s already adapted them by sewing hook and eye closures on the sides, then the pantyhose, unhook the straps to her plain cotton bra, put it on, then reach back to hook up the straps, a little awkward with her wrists still chained but no big problem. Oh well, time to release her wrists, back up to kneel on the bed, then choose a suit and blouse and a scarf to cover the stainless steel chain around her neck. The outline of chain is extremely visible under her blouse so she’ll have to wear her suit jacket all day; hopefully it won’t be too warm today. Oh, well, if being a slave was easy, anybody could do it. On with the three-inch heels she wears to work and it’s off on her morning stroll to the office. Halfway there, she stops in the middle of the sidewalk. Oh, SHIT! I screwed up, already. I should have taken my clothing into the front hall and used that key to release the chains. Should I tell him? I can’t lie to him. He’ll probably ask me that specific question. Better to preempt that and confess before he asks. Shit and he specifically ordered me to remain nude while inside my apartment. Clothing is only for the front hall. I’ll have to pay more attention, this is silly, one day out of his sight and I make such a dumb mistake. Well, nothing else for it, I’ll send him a confession by e-mail when I get to work. She strides off happily to work.

That evening, the Yahoo messenger conversation starts at 6:01

So, tell me about your day, my lovely. I got this mornings e-mail, take it from there.

I had a meeting with a client first thing this morning so I couldn’t contact you until 11:00 when it was over. I felt so guilty all morning, knowing I’d screwed up, composing that e-mail in my mind, my panties getting damp and all the while trying to be calm cool and collected for my client; it was torture. After my meeting, I did some paperwork, some letters and brought my billings up to date. That took until 2:00 so I worked straight through lunch and took the rest of the afternoon off. I found the leather, Ss chain and bell for my chastity shorts; it’s a brass bell ¾ in. long by ½ in. wide at the base. Fairly heavy, makes a lovely loud tinkly sound, I hope you’ll like it. Anyway, I did some other shopping, good coffee, a bottle of wine and some groceries and was home by 4:00. After stripping and chaining/gagging myself, I spent an hour reorganising my closets, all my business clothes are in the front now, including all of my heels; no more screwups like this morning. Then, I knelt in the living room in front of the floor length mirror to work on the shorts. Both legs are now cut away to the hip, sort of like French cut panties. I’ve cut a stiff piece of steerhide to fit between my legs but left wings attached to form the thigh bands that I’ll wrap the chain in. That way, each step will pull the centre panel across my clit and lips. I imagine if you take me dancing while I’m wearing this, I’ll be in continuous orgasm right there on the dancefloor. OOOOOH!!! Wish I had a webcam setup so you could see the puddle on the floor beneath me right now!

That’s an interesting concept, we’ll have to look into the possibilities. Have you had dinner yet?

No Sir, I wasn’t sure if I was permitted to have dinner without instructions. I am hungry, though.

Henceforth, you are permitted to feed yourself at eight if you haven’t heard from me. Generally, something light…soup and salad, that sort of thing; I want you to practise eating from a bowl on the floor. Do you have a camcorder?

No Sir.

Buy one then, set it up to record your feeding practise, I.D. each tape for date and time so you can review your progress on a regular basis.

Yes Sir.

That’s all for now then, talk to you later tonight about this morning’s events.

Good Night, Sir.

7:45 PM Ding from the computer, incoming message.

Good evening, Sir.

Hello, my pretty. Re. This morning’s e-mail. Yes, you messed up the morning routine, don’t let it happen again or there will be strokes but I am well pleased that you admitted your error so readily. I am more concerned that you wore pantyhose today.

Only until 2:30, Sir, the first thing I did after leaving the office was stop at the lingerie shop down the block. You should see all the neat stuff they have, I only bought a narrow garterbelt in black lace and three pair of sheer nylons that I can wear to work. I didn’t know how you would feel about fishnets or black nylons, I can’t wear them to the office but if you want me to have them in my wardrobe for evening wear or whatever, then I’ll stop in tomorrow. Actually, could I impose on you to take me there sometime and choose the things you’d like for me to wear. I’ll pay for the stuff, money isn’t the problem. I just hate selecting my own clothing, especially undies.

Yes, I imagine I can find some time to come into the city…as far as funds go, we’ll see. Are you still wearing the four-foot chain as I instructed in yesterday’s e-mail?

Yes Sir, you haven’t instructed me to remove it.

How did it feel today?

A little uncomfortable, especially as I had to wear my suit jacket all day and it turned really warm this afternoon. The chain and padlock makes a very distinctive bulge under my blouse. Still, I really love wearing it, it feels so delicious against my skin, and I was somewhat aroused all day.

I presume when you got home that you stripped in the hallway, am I to understand that you went all the way to the bedroom without heels or chains.

OOPS, yes Sir, screwed up again, didn’t I.

What should you have done?

Stopped on the way home, bought new heels, chains and locks?

Very good, girl. No punishment for this mornings error, this once, but you had all day to realize the problem you would have in the evening. Five strokes. Also, I note you didn’t suggest using the 4-foot chain to shackle yourself.

No Sir, you haven’t given permission for me to remove it, even to shackle myself with.

Very good, girl! That was a test. Now, go and kneel by the front door and release the two locks from the four foot chain…think about which lock to remove last and why as you will be defending your choice. Bring the chain and locks back to the computer. You have two minutes.

I’m back, Sir.

Two minutes and twenty-five seconds, one stroke for each five seconds. Did you remember to step through your chain before and after and again when you reached the computer?

OOPS again, sorry Sir.

So, you missed four opportunities to step through your chain. Twenty strokes. I hope you are keeping track of these; on Saturday morning after breakfast you will have to kneel and beg for punishment You will have to recite the specific number of strokes awarded for each offence as well as describing each offence in the order of occurrence. Any shortfall in number of strokes or description will earn additional punishment.

Yes, Sir, I’m writing them all down, thank you Sir.

Now, describe and defend your choice.

Yes Sir, I knelt facing the wall so the padlock below my breasts was most easily accessible, as I knew I didn’t have much time but in any event, I would never consider removing a padlock securing my neck until last.

Why not?

Well Sir, at the moment the chain was serving in place of a collar; if I am ever again privileged to be permitted to remove my own collar, I would keep that lock for last. It just seems that removing her collar is something a slave would postpone as long as possible.

Very good, that’s the spirit. Now, tell me what else you bought today.

I found a fabric store a few blocks over, off Spadina. They had a lot of small scraps of fabric, approximately one square foot but various shapes. They were a dollar apiece so I bought twenty as well as a sewing kit and a number of small bells and some narrow gold coloured cord. The drugstore with the post office had a postage scale for sale so I bought that.  I stopped at the LCBO on the way home and picked up some cans of Guinness and  the bottle of wine I mentioned earlier but they didn’t have the kind of scotch you like, perhaps you have alternate favourites that I can look for?

Cardhu, Lagavulin and in the Irish whiskey section, Black Bush makes a nice change of pace.

Oh, good, I’ll look for them.

How are the alterations going?

I’ve riveted the leather for the waistband and I’m just starting the sewing on that piece, I’m using very fine stainless steel wire, which I found a spool of at a hardware store. Actually, when I say waistband, these were particularly low-cut  hiphugger jeans so I guess I should call it a hipband. Am I permitted to use smaller padlocks for the chastity shorts? Since I assume I won’t be wearing them in the shower, I’m sure I could easily find small brass padlocks, which would let me use smaller gauge chain.

You have no right to make such an unwarranted assumption. Five strokes. However, small brass padlocks will be acceptable. Stainless steel chain, though.

Oh yes Sir, your e-mail was very clear.

Right, take the four-foot chain, centre it between your ankles, leave six inches space between, then wrap and secure with the two free padlocks. Then take the ends up and secure your wrists, using the padlocks from the three-foot ankle chain. Release the two-foot chain from your wrists and refasten between your upper arms, running across your back. Tomorrow, you are permitted to remove whichever chains you wish but you must always be wearing one of them and two padlocks. Your choice, which chain and how you wear it; feel free to experiment but I will expect a full report. Now you have work to do so I will sign off. Good night, my lovely. Good night Sir.

End Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A new arrangement of chain to sleep in, bizarre to have her ankles so close together at night, it has been almost six years since she last slept without her spreader bar. The chain across her back feels delicious, though, as does the three-foot chain, which she has wrapped around her neck and the headboard. Having her hands at her sides instead of chained above her head or behind her back also feels kind of weird. Hopefully, her new Master will require a more stringent bondage most nights; she really doesn’t like having nothing connecting her wrists. Still, the most important thing is the arrangement her Master has mandated, not the comfort or lack of that she feels. At least Master hasn’t forbidden her blindfold and gag. As she tries to fall asleep, her mind drifts back to Saturday night and those lovely “cuffs” she was permitted to sleep in. Waking up on Sunday morning, she remembers gently tugging her wrists against the immovable wood enclosing them, kicking her ankles to feel the chain linking them. Her right hip feels the warmth of His body, she hears the gentle sound of His breathing, then the pleasure of a hand cupping her left breast, thumbing her nipple, lips enclosing her right nipple, teeth gently nipping it, heat building in her loins, sparks running through her clit, tremors through her body, a moan escapes her lips.

“Good morning, my lovely.”

“Good morning, Sir; may your girl be permitted to serve your pleasure?”

“Not just yet, I think we’ll deal with the shower and morning ablutions and then breakfast.”

She feels Him reach for the rope fastening her wrist cuffs to the headboard, then a quick pinch to her clit.

“Up girl, no lazing about in bed.”

“Yes, Sir.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed, enjoying the rattle of chain between her ankles, stands, takes two paces away from the bed and steps through her cuffs. She stands straight backed, breasts thrust forward, belly in, ass facing the bed, framed by the wood of her cuffs and her forearms, hoping her new Master enjoys the view, wishing she could see Him but He hasn’t chosen to remove her blindfold. She hears the bed creak as He rolls out and then, a hand possessively squeezing her ass, nudging her forward, guiding her toward the bathroom. Cold tile under her bare feet makes her shiver but part of that might have been the hand on her ass.

“Step through the cuffs and place the bar at the back of your neck.”

“Yes, Sir.” She hears the sudden roar of the shower; the warmth of the steam, a hand twitches loose the knot on her blindfold, then guides her under the showerhead. She is pulled out of the shower, and feels His hands spreading lather over her body, especially her breasts, belly and ass.

“Use your body to soap up as much of mine as you can reach. Remember, you may not touch me with your hands, even by accident.”

How erotic, using her body to wash Him, wriggling her ass against that hard rod, sliding her wet breasts and belly down the length of His legs, curving around Him to get to the hard to reach parts, squeezing her shoulders into His crotch to apply soap. Her nipples by now are like pebbles, her crotch so wet she is unsure whether the moisture on the floor comes from her or the shower. She is tugged under the shower again, his hands spreading shampoo through her hair, working the suds the length of her tresses, pausing when they reach her ass for a squeeze and caress, then repeating the process over and over. Her legs are trembling, her lips producing incoherent moans. He puts her underneath the shower again and washes her off, for some reason, spending an extensive amount of time on her groin. By this time, her clit is standing a full inch proud of her lower lips, her body shaking with need, her knees trembling, only His hands on her body keeping her upright, when, suddenly, a last flick of her clit causes Vesuvius to erupt. His hands and arms support and enclose her as she shakes through the tremors. He eases her body to her knees on the floor of the shower. Her mouth bumps against His hardness, and she engulfs it with her lips, licking and sucking, trying to take the entire length into her mouth

“Tilt your head back so your mouth and throat form a straight line, then you won’t gag on the head of my plumbing.” Breathing requires a bit of careful timing but she is able to take His length in her throat and still suck on the base of His shaft and feel the weight of His balls against her chin. Some minutes of this fervent endeavour and she feels His rod begin to jerk and spasm in her mouth, and the warmth of his seed flowing down her throat. As His softening member slips from her lips, she extends her tongue for a last delicious lick. His hands on her arms lift her to her feet, though her legs are still shaky. She feels the shower stop then the warmth of a bathtowel softly drying her body and hair. Her blindfold is refastened. She is led over and sat upon the toilet.

“Go ahead, girl. I’ll wipe you after I finish drying myself.”

Embarrassing, she’s never had a shit in front of a man, and, being blindfolded, she can only assume He is watching her. Still, her bladder needs relief; the steady tinkle of her flow seems to get the bowels moving as well. Having a man wiping her clit and ass is even more humiliating but the embarrassment only brings on extra warmth between her thighs. His hand on her ass guides her back to the bed and stops her while He reaches up to loose the tie on her blindfold.

“Slip into your heels and then you can start breakfast. Use the salad tongs to hold the oranges while you quarter them. There is a small container of Hollandaise sauce in the fridge, English muffins in the breadbox and you already know about the eggs and bacon and cheese. I will want three cups of coffee. Use the Kona, it’s already ground. I’ll be out as soon as I shave.”

“Yes, Sir, coming right up.” A swat on her ass gets her moving.

“What’s this, girl? Two place settings, including cutlery and coffee mugs?”

“Sorry, Sir, I assumed I would be eating breakfast with you?”

“And you very well may be. If… I choose to feed you. Likewise, you may very well get a sip or two of coffee. You require neither a plate, nor cutlery nor yet a mug. If I wish you to set two places, I will so inform you.”

“Yes, Sir” She scurries to clear away the second setting, leaving His at the head of the table. He takes the chair she had been permitted to use Saturday night and tucks it away on the other side of the table, against the wall.

“When not actively serving me, you will kneel beside my chair. For this morning, you will place the bar at the back of your neck whenever your hands aren’t in use. I’ll have coffee now.” He seats Himself while she reaches the pot from the counter beside the table, and pours His first cup.

“Your coffee, Sir. May I be permitted to serve your breakfast now?”

“Leave the eggs in the warming tray, I’ll have an orange first. Did you quarter two of them?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s good, put them on a plate and bring them over.”

“Yes, Sir.” She puts a little extra shake into her ass as she makes her hobbled way across His kitchen. How to carry the plate? The wooden bar holding her wrists apart makes this an awkward proposition. The eight quarters of very large navel orange requires that she use a large dinner plate. Her left hand won’t be strong enough to carry it unsupported; what to do? Since she will be kneeling to present the plate to Him, it will be necessary to elevate the plate, almost like a bench press. That means holding the plate with her thumb underneath and fingers on top, no way she can carry the plate like that but if she turns the plate so it rests on the wooden bar then her hand will only need to steady it; that should work.

“Well done, girl. Hands behind your neck. Here, have a sip of coffee. Hmm…no lipstick on the cup. If that happens at any future meal, it will be five strokes.”

“So, I am supposed to leave lipstick stains on the rim of your cup?”

“Not just on the rim, and not just the cup. In future, you will plant an open mouth kiss imprint on the side of every mug and bowl you present to me, and the underside of the rim of every plate.”

“I will need to freshen up my lipstick every few minutes, then?”

“Precisely. Failure to leave a clean kiss mark will bring more severe punishment than failure to leave a kiss mark at all. These are nice oranges, would you like a taste?”

“Yes please, Sir.” Biting into the orange quarter He holds to her lips causes the juice to run over her chin and drip on her breasts. Each piece is big enough to need three bites so she winds up with more of the juice on her body than in. It runs in rivulets between her breasts, down her belly as far as the hair on her mound. Three pieces later, He begins His own orange but only eats two pieces before feeding her the rest. Her body is now covered in orange juice.

“Stand up girl!” He leans forward and with long, slow strokes of His tongue, begins licking the juice from her body, working his way from her lower belly up to her chin, pausing along the way to ensure that her nipples are thoroughly cleaned off. The extra attention to her nipples has the usual effect on her knees.

“Eggs, girl.”

“Yes, Ssirrr.”

The same tricky presentation of the plate only this time, she has to kiss the rim and nearly drops the plate in the process.

“Careful, girl; that’s fine china not Melmac.”

“Yes, Sir, I’m sorry, Sir. I need to practice this movement.”

“See that you do; I expect you to demonstrate grace and elegance in your movements.”

“Yes, Sir, I’ll do better, I promise.”

He works His way through the egg, bacon, cheese in hollandaise on a muffin, pausing from time to time to feed her a bite, always ensuring that a drip or two of sauce finds its way onto her out thrust breasts.

“Hmm…nipples in Hollandaise, my favourite dessert.”

“Oh please, Master.”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to call me that! You haven’t earned the right to address me by that name yet.”

“Sorry, Sir.  Sir, may your slavegirl be permitted to ask questions?”

“Certainly, and continue using the third person in referring to yourself!”

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir; if it pleases you, Sir, this slave would like to earn permission to call you Master. May she be informed of how she might earn that privilege?”

“One continuous month without earning any strokes, during which time you shall continue to demonstrate you eagerness to obey.”

“So, if a slave receives a command, she would be expected to obey instantly, no hesitation?”

“Well, of course!”

“And hesitation would earn her strokes?”

“Yes!”

“Ooh, this will be a serious test, then?”

“Very serious, we are, after all, talking about a long term commitment. I am not interested in becoming your Master for a week or a month!”

“Oh Sir, Thank You, Sir, please test this slave as strenuously as you can, make her work hard to earn your approval.”

“I certainly shall. Nothing earned easily is worth the having!”

“And a Master such as you is definitely worth the having!”

“Stand up, it’s time for my dessert. While I’m cleaning off your breasts, you can tell me what you liked, or hated about last night.”

“Yes Sir, well, your slave really loves the wrist restraint you made, I’ve… she’s never worn anything so secure and yet so comfortable in her life. The bondage tied over the back of your armchair was lovely as was the bit on the bearskin rug, and the light whipping was just perfect, I… she can still feel twinges, it’s so delicious! The walking around in her bondage, the ritual of stepping through her restraint, licking up her juices off the floor, that position, knowing she was under your eye, it was all so deliciously erotic. Learning to give head was as wonderful as I’d…she’d always hoped it would be and she has certainly never had so many orgasms in one night, or such powerful ones, speaking of which, if you keep licking her nipples like that, she will have another any second now!”

“Oh, we can’t have that, I guess they’re clean enough now. Why do I feel like there is a but coming, was there something about yesterday that disappointed you.”

“Not disappointed, exactly, although this slave was really hoping she would be…fucked last night? Lying there, spread and ready for use, your body heat warming me all night, so eager, but you didn’t take me…that is, take your slave?”

“First, watch that third person. Second, I don’t fuck; I make love, with or without bondage. Third, I make love at a time and place of my choosing I don’t do command performances! Fourth, there is much to be said for anticipation. Finally, I prefer that you refer to yourself as slavegirl, although you may add such other descriptive words as you wish. Now, I will take the last cup of coffee in my armchair while you cleanup the kitchen.

She slowly fades off to sleep, the warmth of her memories matching the heat of her groin.

End Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Waking up Wednesday morning she was at first puzzled to find her wrists at her side and her ankles close together until the memories flooded in. OOH, she thinks, I have a MASTER now, even if He won’t let me call Him that yet. A whole month without earning strokes? How on earth will I manage that? Look, I’m being disobedient already, thinking of myself in first person, must start thinking of myself as slavegirl or I’m bound to make a mistake. From now on SLAVEGIRL…even in my own mind…her own mind! Time for slavegirl to get up, first, the chain securing her neck to the bed, but leave it attached round her neck. Where did she put the keys to her blindfold and gag, oh right, in the freezer compartment of her fridge? Better bring that padlock along, she really needs more than the six He has mandated, still, perhaps she will make do with her old padlocks until He finds something suitable. Where to put the lock, how about locking her wrists together, perfect, she’ll have to kneel in the shower, ooh, lovely, but for now, the blindfold, make her way slowly with this six inch hobble between her ankles, into the kitchen, open the fridge, oops can’t reach the freezer, the chain linking her wrists to her ankles doesn’t let her lift her hands above her waist, step stool? Not enough slack in the hobble to use it. Kneel on a chair? Have to get really close to the freezer to reach the keyring, hope her nipples don’t freeze. Oooh, that’s cold! Crushing her breasts into the freezer bottom in order to reach the keyring, brrrrr…got it! Off the chair, move it back to the table, close up the freezer and fridge, kneel in front of it to release her blindfold. Put on a small pot of coffee, good, the last of the old stuff and she got Sulawezi yesterday so she’ll have some good stuff on hand in case He drops by. To the shower, leave the gag until breakfast; pretend it’s His cock she is sucking so blissfully.

Kneeling under the steamy water, she revels in the feel of His chains caressing her body as her linked hands massage shampoo into her hair. Ducking her head under the spray, she lets her hands drift to her pubes, stroking the thick curls she wonders if she should shave them clean, would He prefer her that way, He didn’t specify, dare she take the chance? No, better to request permission. The water is starting to cool, time to dry off.

Years of practise allow her to dry her hair without snagging the towel on the stainless steel chain of her gag or the lock at the back of her neck. Now, to breakkie. Make her way back to the kitchen, bowl of cereal, splash of milk, it’s granola, doesn’t need sugar, carry it to the middle of the living room, kneel, place bowl on floor, back to kitchen, pour coffee into bowl, carry out to place with cereal, back to kitchen, remove gag.

Kneel in front of cereal, lift bowl up to kiss side of bowl, oops, no lipstick, trip to bathroom, bright red lipstick now in place, kneel again in front of cereal bowl, lift to lips, then lift coffee bowl to lips, then squat to step through her chain, bringing her wrists to the small of her back, she kneels again, ass high in the air and delicately laps up her now mushy cereal, followed by her, by now, lukewarm coffee. Memo to slavegirl, don’t pour the coffee until after slavegirl has finished her cereal, she missed several opportunities to step through her chain, and the coffee was cold anyway. Granted, it’s not very good coffee, but Master would not approve.

Now, what chains will she wear today; Master has given permission for her to select one or more in whatever arrangement she wishes. The two foot around her waist? No, better idea, the four-foot centered around her waist with the ends padlocked around each thigh. That means she’ll have to hobble back to the bedroom and leash herself back to the bed with the three footer she’s still wearing around her neck. Then she can release the padlocks on the four footer and rearrange. Too warm today for a suit jacket, too bad, she won’t be able to wear the leash chain during the day. Ummm, this is an interesting arrangement, the locks click together between her thighs when she walks and, with the chain drawn snug around her waist and padlocked at her navel, she can feel it tugging with each step, a constant reminder. Lovely…

Stockings, now, opening a brand new package, she wonders if she could have put them on while her ankles were still chained. Something to practise with old stockings, she doesn’t want to ruin a new pair. No reason not to refasten her ankles before she finishes getting dressed. Oh rats…Master said she was not to put on any clothing unless her wrists and ankles are shackled, darn, have to send another confessional e-mail this morning. Lock the two-foot chain to her ankles, the free end of the three-foot to her right wrist, then unlock her neck and reattach the chain to her left wrist. Panties now? No, garterbelt first, snug up her stockings, fasten the clips, no seams on these, another question for Him, should her stockings be seamed? Now the panties, good thing she adapted two more pairs with snap hooks last night; judging from the last couple of days, she’ll have to change at least once today. Better stop at the lingerie place at lunch hour, maybe they’ll have some pairs that tie on the sides, or button. Clip on the bra, fasten the shoulder straps, while she’s at the lingerie place, and better look at strapless bras, too. Skirt and sweater today, she thinks and heads off to the front hall to dress, then realizes she probably should have put on her bra and panties in the front hall. Another question for Him. Another day of earning strokes, she wonders when she’ll be able to start earning the right to call Him by His proper title. She tries on a slim pencil skirt, calf length, no, the chains around her thighs show too much, how about this navy blue pleated wool skirt, four inches above her knees, should be OK for the office, no meetings scheduled for today except the weekly staff meeting. Good thing she isn’t a partner, they’d never let a partner dress like this. A cream coloured round neck cashmere sweater but first she has to release her wrists. Oh well…left one first, slide sweater over her head and left arm into sleeve, then release right wrist, kiss chain and padlocks, oops, not enough lipstick for a good kiss. Oh well, it’s getting late, time to be off. Her right arm into the sleeve, settle the sweater down over her hips, love the way it gently clings to her breasts. Change to her three inch black pumps, unlock her ankles, pin her watch to the left shoulder of her sweater, just above her breast, grab her purse and keys and she’s off.

10:00 e-mail to Him

Good morning SIR

This is another confessional e-mail, unfortunately, please forgive this clumsy slavegirl who only wants to please you.

When she dressed this morning, she put on stockings, garterbelt, panties and bra, in that order. Unfortunately, her wrists and ankles were unshackled while she put on her stockings. She was worried about snags in the stockings if she tried rolling them underneath the chain, but as for her wrists, she has no excuse. She did reshackle her wrists and ankles before putting on the garterbelt. The other problem is that she did all this in the bedroom, instead of the front hall. She used the key on the bed to remove and reattach the four-foot chain, after leashing her neck to the bed with the three footer, but then forgot she had to refasten her wrists and ankles before dressing.

She also has questions for Sir’s consideration. First, while she was showering this morning, it occurred to her that she should shave her pubic hair; would Sir want her to do this? Second, should she buy seamed stockings; she doesn’t think they would go over too well at the office but…?

The other thing that occurred was that she tried kissing her chains and locks as she removed them while dressing. Admittedly, she wasn’t wearing enough lipstick at the time, but there really isn’t a place on a chain or a lock that’s flat enough and large enough to leave a clean kiss mark. What should she do?

The last thing she would like to say is that she is eagerly waiting for her sleep cell to be completed. Now that she’s had the privilege of sleeping through the night in a bed with a man in it, she really doesn’t want to sleep in bed alone. She fully understands that the project will take Sir as long as it takes and she begs Sir not to hurry on her account. Only EAGER ANTICIPATION!!!!

This loving, obedient slavegirl needs to get back to work (and change her panties, 10:15, a new record).

Bye for now, SIR.

Juliette

Getting home at 5:45, she puts down her shopping bags from the lingerie store and LCBO, fishes her key out of her purse, unlocks her apartment door, brings in the shopping bags and turns to the closet to strip. Nudging the door closed with her hip, she pulls her sweater off over her head, hangs it up in the closet, reaches for her two-foot chain and two locks and secures her wrists, running the chain through a bangle. Then she slides out of her pleated skirt, hangs it up and loosely shackles her ankles with the three-foot chain also through the bangle. Off with her bra, the usual fumbling with detaching the shoulder straps but she’s getting better. Put away the bra on the shelf, to be joined shortly thereafter by her garterbelt. The panties she keeps in hand along with the two pairs from her purse, all three need washing, as well as the pair from yesterday. She slides into her five-inch mules and turns away from the closet, panties in hand, only to drop the panties in her surprise. He is sitting on the couch, enjoying the performance as far as she can tell, as well as the can of Guinness he has poured into a stein and is busily sipping away at.

“Sir, what an unexpected pleasure. Have you been waiting long? How, what…? Sir, this slavegirl is too flustered to know what to do. Is there a ritual, a protocol for a slavegirl entering a room where her Master happens to be?”

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact, you should first put down, not drop, whatever you have in your hands. Then, you should strip, assuming you haven’t already done so. In this case, that minor problem has been taken care of. Although, it is difficult for me to imagine why you would face the closet to strip. You should always face the direction where a man could reasonably be, even if you know you’re alone. Then, you should approach and kneel at the appropriate distance for kissing feet. At that point, you may, if necessary, refresh your lipstick. Then, you kiss the upper of each shoe, left first, then linger on the right until such time as you hear a fingersnap. At that point, you may kneel back and wait for instructions”.

“So, the slavegirl should wait until she is kneeling before her master before refreshing her lipstick?”

“Only if you think it needs doing. You could, for example, have done that in the hallway, or even the elevator, which has a mirror. A “just in case” sort of action. You know that I have a key to your apartment. It must therefore have occurred to you that I might decide to use it. Once you reach that conclusion, it’s not such a stretch to reach the conclusion that it might be tonight. However, it might be worthwhile exploring the possibility of finding some means of wearing a tube of lipstick, also just in case.”

“Um, yes Sir, but for now…oh darn, you’re right, of course, Slavegirl wasn’t thinking. Her mind is still not fully adapted to the concept of finally having a master. She’ll take the punishment and be grateful”.

With that, she performs the ritual as described, lingering for a full five minutes on His right foot, kissing with all the eager passion in her trembling body. A soft fingersnap allows her to sit back on her heels and look up shyly at Him; He is smiling, she wriggles with pleasure.

“Not bad for a first attempt, you gauged the correct distance, gave a reasonable bit of attention to my left shoe and certainly demonstrated the appropriate level of passion. We’ll work on the movements later this evening. For the moment, you can get back into your stockings and garterbelt and those spike heeled sandals, the gold ones.”

“Yes, Sir. May the slavegirl be permitted to put her panties in the sink for washing?”

“The kitchen sink, you are no longer permitted to use the bathroom sink.”

“Yes, Sir. May slavegirl bring you a refill while she is in the kitchen?”

“Yes, but in a fresh stein.”

“Yes, Sir.” Rising gracefully to her feet, she struts slowly to her pile of panties by the front hall. Scooping her panties off the floor by bending at the waist, right hand held beside her ankle, legs straight, feet spread to the length of her ankle chain, she slowly straightens her body, turns and struts to the kitchen. She runs some warm water into the sink in order to soak the panties, gets down a fresh stein from the shelf, and pours another Guinness, using her right hand only to hold the stein while she pours. She carries the stein with both hands, as it is too wide to carry one handed. She is careful to ensure the handle is facing out for his hand to take. She approaches slowly, glass held at waist height so as not to spoil His view. She kneels, knees more than two feet apart, slowly brings the glass to her lips and gives it a long, lingering kiss. Lowering her head, she raises the glass stein to His outstretching hand.

“Nicely done, my lovely. A few minor problems and one serious. First, a beer should always have some head; not too much, a little over half an inch is about right. Second, I want you to only use the tips of your fingers when carrying food or drink to present to me. Third, there should be more jiggle to your breasts when you walk, even though I know you were trying not to spill any. The serious problem has to do with…?”

“Your slavegirl neglected to refresh her lipstick before presenting the glass.”

“I was willing to overlook the lack of adequate lipstick marks on my shoes, this being the first time you’ve gone through that particular ritual. You do recall my saying that inadequate lipstick marks would be punished more severely than none at all.”

“Yes Sir, you’re slavegirl is very much at fault and should be disciplined severely.”

“As a single woman living alone, I presume you are in possession of a vibrator?”

“Yes, Sir. Cordless, remote control, batteries good for eight hours use.”

“Should be just about right, fetch it!”

Chapter 15

She returns in moments with the vibrator, retrieved from the table beside her bed. Kneeling, legs even more widely spread than earlier, she offers up the vibrator and control with the items held between the tips of her fingers, head bowed in submission.

He takes the two items and tests the control. “Oh, very good, three speeds. Seems just about right.”

Insert this in front. I presume lube will not be necessary?”

“Oh no, Sir. This slavegirl never uses lube, other than what she produces herself.”

Sure enough, the eight-inch long implement of torment slides allll the way in without fuss, save for a moan from slavegirl, hastily choked off, as she knows this is to be a punishment.

“Now, the stockings garterbelt and sandals.”

“Yes, Sir.” She struts over to the hall closet, though she has to clench her vaginal muscles several times to keep the toy from sliding out. As she turns to reach the sandals from the closet, she is startled by a high speed burst from the vibrator, causing it to slide out along with a small gush of her juice. She continues reaching for the shoes, slips her feet into them, laces them up her calves to just below the knee, then kneels with her ass toward Him, knees extra wide spread, ass high as she can get it, and delicately laps up the small puddle. When the floor is completely clean, she picks up the now quiet vibrator between her teeth and rises to her feet, turns to face Him, and does a slow, sensual strut until she is in position to kneel before Him. She takes the toy in her left hand and slowly licks the oil from it, finally drying it with her hair. Only then does she offer it up to Him, two handed, her head bowed, as before. She hears the sound of soft clapping.

“Very good, slavegirl, you are a gem, that was perfectly done. It doesn’t get you out of punishment, however.”

“Nor should it; this slavegirl is looking forward to her punishment, whatever her master decides it is to be. She does fervently hope that it won’t involve trying to keep this inside of her unaided?”

“No, that would clearly constitute cruel and unusual punishment. I think we’ll create a bodystrap for you; have you got about four feet of rope……maybe ½ in.”

“Slavegirl has a six foot length of rough hemp rope, will that do?”

“Should do the trick very nicely, fetch it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Returning from the bedroom with coil of rope lying on the tips of her fingers and a fresh coat of bright red lipstick on her lips, she kneels and offers the rope to Him. He takes it and reaches a seaman’s knife from the right hand pocket of his charcoal gray trousers. He opens the marlinespike from the backside and begins to unlay a short section of one end. While doing that, He says, “regarding this mornings e-mail, you did mess up the dressing. First, you are expressly forbidden to don or remove any article of clothing except in the front hall. Second, I understand your concern about damaging your new stockings and for this week am willing to permit you to unshackle your ankles while you put on your stockings. Your wrists, on the other hand, five strokes, need I say more?

“No, Sir.”

“As far as seamed stockings, fine for evening wear, as are fishnets, but inappropriate for your current working environment. You should keep a pair of each in your desk at work in case I decide to meet you for dinner or something. You had another question, oh yes, shaving your bush. In view of tonight’s events, yes, do it now. You have fifteen minutes. Don’t use the bathroom, do it here, in front of me.”

“Yes, Sir.” She collects a large bath towel, her razor and can of lather from the bathroom, returns to lay out the towel on the floor at His feet, goes to the kitchen to fetch a large metal salad bowl from the cupboard and fills it with hot water. While there, she takes the opportunity to sprinkle some Woolite soap flakes into the sink and gives her panties a swish around. She returns to Him, carrying the salad bowl delicately between her fingers, kneels carefully on the bathtowel and places the bowl on the floor between her thighs.

“Sir, may I fetch scissors and a washcloth, as well?”

“OK, but you’re down to nine minutes.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She returns with the items and begins to snip away her curls but is torn between paying attention to her work and curiosity about what He’s doing.

“Sir, if it pleases you, may a slavegirl inquire what Sir is doing?”

“Making a bodystrap, as requested”

“But that’s a splice of some sort, isn’t it?’

“An evesplice, to be specific, it’s nearly done now, and you’re running out of time. Concentrate on your project before you get blood all over.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“There we go, one perfect eye in the end of this rope. Not bad for something I haven’t needed to do in ten years. While I’m unlaying the other end, oh, I’m sorry, you haven’t finished yet, one spank for every 30 seconds from….now!”

“That’s twelve spanks, girl, assume the position.” She crawls across His lap, ass in the air, clasps her hands at the back of her neck and spreads her legs. “Count each stroke, thank me properly, and request another.”

“Yes, Sir” Swish, whap!!! OOH the burn. “One Sir, Thank you Sir, May this slavegirl have another, please?”

Swish, whap on the left cheek this time.“ Two Sir, Thank you, Sir. May this slavegirl have another, please?”

Alternating cheeks, with a stroke about every minute and a five alarm blaze building in her ass, finally…

“Twelve, Sir, th-th-thank you, Sir. Your slavegirl is grateful for the attention; she hopes Sir didn’t hurt His hand, those were very firm strokes.”

“Well, I can’t say as I’d want to be doing that again just now, but I expect I’ll live. Nobody promised that disciplining a slavegirl would be easy. Now lets examine the fruits of your labour.”

A long, slow stroking of her now denuded groin and the verdict is…”Missed a few patches here but overall, not bad. I’d give it a seven out of ten. Should be three strokes but you’ve obviously never done this before, we’ll make it two.” Swish, whap…”One Sir, thank you, Sir. May this humble, submissive slavegirl have another.”

Swish, whap…”Two Sir, thank you, Sir. This slavegirl is grateful for Sir’s attention to her discipline.”

“Bring me an ice cube!”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And no rubbing your ass!”

“No, Sir.”

Kneeling, head bowed in submission, knees fully three feet apart, she offers the cube to His swollen hand.

“Ahh, that’s better, you can hear the sizzle. Onward with the evenings events. Model each of your cocktail dresses for me and be quick about it, we only have an hour.”

“Hmm, I think the strapless black velvet with the laces across the back and slit skirt; looks very Goth, all that bare back and leg, and no small amount of cleavage into the bargain.”

“Yes, this slavegirl saw it at a Renfaire and just had to have it, although she had no idea where she could wear such a dress.”

“Yeah, I can just picture you at the firm’s Christmas party wearing that! They’d need a forklift to get all the jaws off the floor. Any accessories to go with the outfit?”

“Not specifically, but slavegirl does have a heavy gold choker, it takes a small brass padlock if you like?”

Sounds perfect, bring them here.”

“Ok, choker first, kneel up, head down…. Now, lift your head; let me see…no, I think padlock in front for tonight…that’s better. Now, I’ve finished the backsplice while you were doing your quick-change act. Stand up, hands at the back of your neck. Sso, we run the rope around the waist, through the eye at the navel, pull tight, mustn’t forget our friend Mr. dildo, oh, that does slide in easily, all righty then, rope through and up the crack of your ass, over and back down and through, pull tight, must get all this slack out, back up through the eye, around your waist and tie off at the eye. Just enough rope to do the job. Now then, up and into that dress.”

While she’s getting back into the tiny, little black dress, he starts up the vibrator on low, then comes over to tighten the laces. Before doing so, he slips a brass padlock through the three bangles on each wrist, locking them together in front and then unlocks her wrist and ankle chains. He laces the dress much more tightly than she’s ever been able to do and stands back to examine the effect. “Hmm, nice rear view, turn around. Yes indeedy, lovely front view as well and you can hardly see the bulge of the rope. Yes, this will work, very nicely. Now, the only problem is this bit of lipstick on my shoes. Should I leave it there or have you lick it off? I’ll think about it while you ease the pressure in my plumbing. Kneel and attend to it, girl. Well done, you remembered to step through before kneeling. Since these are good trousers, I’ll extract the family jewels, don’t want a lipstick stain on the front of my pants. UMMM, you’re getting rather good at giving pleasure with your mouth. I think I will have you lick my shoes clean, but not here, perhaps in the elevator, the suspense might be interesting.”

Ooh, He’s going to make me kneel in the elevator and lick my lipstick off His shoes, how humiliating if someone sees. Am I terrified or turned on; oooh…a LOT of both, I didn’t realise potential embarrassment was a turn-on. I wonder where He’s taking me tonight, and if He will let me wear panties, this dress is awfully short, barely covers the tops of my stockings when I’m standing and with me in five-inch heels as well…if He makes me climb stairs, some people are going to get an awfully good view. Do I mind?…. No, actually…it’s His decision if He wants to show me off, none of my concern. Ooh, such a relief having a Master, I’d never dare show myself off in public this way, but if He chooses to show me, then, no problemo. But, where is He taking me tonight…? Dare I ask Him…? No, absolutely not, probably MAJOR strokes, if He wants me to know, He’ll tell me. OK, well. That answers that question, apparently I can come just from sucking Him off. Of course, that really wasn’t a fair test, being already turned on from everything else tonight, plus the vibrator…no, definitely not a fair test. Felt like about a quart of sperm, too, wonder how many calories that was? Definitely no desert for me tonight. She gives it a last, long lingering lick and looks up at His chest.

Chapter 16

     “Right, girl, on your feet, time to be on our way, no, you don’t need a purse, just lipstick and comb, I’ve got them here in my jacket pocket.” With that He escorts her out the door. “Go and call the elevator while I lock up. Hurry.”

She runs down the hallway, tricky in these heels but how to press the elevator button? Oh, yes…the hierarchy, nose first, oh good, she’s avoided another set of strokes, kneel or squat to push the button?…better kneel, yes, that works. Back on her feet, wait for the elevator, hope nobody comes down the hall to see her wrists locked behind her back, on the other hand, would that be a total disaster? Nobody knows anybody in these buildings; it’s all so anonymous. Not her problem, anyway, she’s a slavegirl obeying her Master. Ding…oh good, the elevator’s empty, hold it open with her ass while Master saunters down the hall. Check her lipstick in the elevator mirror. Not good enough, should she kneel to ask Him for her lipstick? Of course! She’s a slavegirl. With a vibrating dildo that suddenly hits on full! Ooh, what a cruel Master! He’ll probably make her lick the floor of the elevator, too. Oh, god the juices are really flowing now, oh, please hurry, Master. Bump from the elevator door… another one…another one and with the vibrations in her tunnel, these are also a bit of a turn-on, there’s a little puddle forming at the elevator door but it’s dripping down the elevator shaft, no problem.

“Lobby, I think, the car should be out front.”

Doors close. She kneels, knees wide spread. “Sir, may this slavegirl please refresh her lipstick?”

“Well done, slavegirl, yes you may. Just squat to step through and kneel to do the touchup.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She kneels upright, her wrists held close in front by the bangles and lock and takes the lipstick in her left hand. This is soooo hard; she’s always used her right hand to apply lipstick. Carefully, now, don’t make a mess in front of Him. Oh, not fair, the vibrator throws her into another spasm, a streak of lipstick across her cheek.

“OK, that’s enough of the toy, for now. Here, use my handkerchief to wipe off the excess.”

“Thank you. Sir” She cleans off the excess, checks in the mirror again, looks ok, a little heavier than she normally wears but appropriate for this dress and heels. She offers the used hankie and the lipstick up to Him, her head bowed. He takes them and puts them away in His pocket but no signal to get up, yet. Ding…fourth floor. A fingersnap, “UP, slavegirl!” With a quick, smooth flowing motion, she rolls onto her toes and rises. He pulls her into His arms just as two little old ladies make their way into the car. Maybe He doesn’t intend to humiliate her tonight, He didn’t even make her step through her cuffs, her arms are folded against His chest, wrists together on His right shoulder, ooh His arms are so strong, this is heavenly. She can see the old ladies in the mirror, one of them is frowning, a total bluestocking, but the other seems to have a twinkle in her eye. Ding…lobby. With His left hand he gestures, “Ladies first.” Then, He folds her behind Him and walks out of the elevator, His hand on the padlock between her wrists, pulling her along as if her arms were a leash. He leads her to an antique Rolls Royce limousine, driven by a tall, dark wiry chauffeur dressed in impeccable livery, complete to cap. The chauffeur holds the door for them. “Thank you, Carlos, I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Not at all, Sir. Besides, as the Boss would say, the lady was worth the wait.”

“She does cleanup nicely, doesn’t she. Turn round, girl.”

“Very nice, Sir. I hope we’ll be seeing you at the estate soon, she would make a remarkable ornament for one of the old man’s parties.”

“Now, that’s a good thought. Express my thanks to William, if you would. I believe we’ll show up later this month. In any event, tell him I’ll call him tomorrow night.” He gets into the rear of the limo and gestures for her to climb in, but points to the floor beside Him. She kneels while Carlos closes the door with a soft click, opens the right front door and gets behind the wheel. The car starts up with a growl but soon settles into a barely audible purr She notices the windows are darkly tinted, nobody save Carlos can see her kneeling in the car and he seems to have taken no notice. Maybe he’s used to seeing pretty girls kneeling in the back of his car?

“Will is a good friend and frequent customer. When I told him my plans for the evening, he offered the use of the car, insisted, actually. I’ll be taking you to at least one of his weekend events sometime soon. Carlos is…well, I don’t think there is an actual title, sort of what the English would call a gentleman’s gentleman. Has even been known to cook, on occasion. Hands at the back of your neck, chest out, eyes closed”

“Yes, Sir”

Ten endless minutes later, the car pulls up to the curb. She doesn’t notice because for the entire duration of the trip, the vibrator has been having its evil way with her, bringing her right to the edge, then shutting off, OOH, He reads her like a book, seems to know her body’s response better than she does. Suddenly, the door opens, a hand on her elbow helps her out of the car and to her feet.

“Well done, girl, eyes still closed, I see, and you didn’t break position while getting out. What do you think, Carlos, is she a keeper?

“I would say, definitely a keeper, Sir, and I’m sure the boss will agree.”

“No doubt, the lecherous old…! Thanks for the ride Carlos, we should be out by ten thirty.”

“The car will be waiting whenever you’re ready, Sir. Have a pleasant evening.”

“Thank you, see you later.”

“Remain silent, but open your eyes.”

The Hummingbird Centre. The opera, Don Giovanni, and she’s been standing here for minutes, now, hands behind her head, elbows back, chest out, feet shoulder width apart, everyone looking at her, OOH, a monster orgasm, didn’t even need the vibrator. She’s standing on grass so no visible puddle but her stockings are soaked. Oh, this is sooooo embarrassing; will anyone she knows be here tonight? He reaches behind her neck and removes the lock from her bracelets.

“Hands beside your ass.”

With His hand on her right elbow, He leads her into the theatre.

“Five minutes to curtain, you’ve just time to do some quick mopping up in the bathroom, hurry up, now.”

She scurries off to the little slavegirls room, oh please, god, let there not be a crowd at the sink.

Sure enough, twelve women primping and chatting, thank god, an open stall, she goes in and tears off half a roll of paper. She dunks half the roll into the toilet bowl and uses the water to wipe her oils off her thighs and what she can reach of her slit, with the crotch ropes in the way. The rest of the pad to dry herself as quick as she can, still damp but this will have to do. She snags a couple of paper towels to dry her hands, gives her hair a quick pat in front of the mirror, smiles at the women still primping and scurries back to Him. Naturally, there is a group of men at the foot of the staircase. Probably waiting for their wives to finish primping. From the looks on their faces, they’re not affronted the way the women were; hope they enjoy the view as she goes up the stairs. There He is, waiting at the foot of the grand staircase to the balcony. Oh God, the whole lobby will see, a mental shrug, slavegirl has already had this conversation, if Master wishes to show her, then she will be shown, and be proud of it. With her hands firmly framing her ass, she does her best slow strut across the lobby to His side.

“You look lovely, Juliet, that slight flush to your cheeks is particularly appealing.”

“Thank you, Sir. It must be almost curtain time?”

“Yes, our seats are just up the first flight of stairs, go ahead up, I want to watch.”

“Yes, Sir.”  She climbs the stairs slowly, walking right up the middle, well away from the handrail. She is careful to ensure a nice sway to her hips and a lot of jiggle to her ass, after all, her Master is watching. Getting to the top, she stands to the side by the door while He makes His rapid way up. Two steps at a time and He’s not even out of breath when He takes her elbow to escort her to their seats. He has a pair in the second row of the first balcony, near the centre; they have to squeeze past several couples already in place. Curiously enough, these all give them a smile, none of the disgust she had seen from the women primping downstairs. Do they know what she is? Dare she ask? Certainly not now, lights are going down, the overture is starting. They reach their seats just then and He seats her to His right. Taking her wrists in His hand, He clicks the padlock through the bangles on her wrists, locking them together in front.

“Enjoy, my lovely.”

Chapter 17

Later, she having resumed her kneeling position in the limo, “ so, did you enjoy the opera, my lovely?”

“Oh yes, Sir, it was wonderful, especially that tenor aria and the duet with the mezzo…they were terrific. The whole night was magical, Sir, thank you soooo much! May a slavegirl ask, are those your regular seats?”

“Yes, I’ve season tickets as do everyone in that row.”

“So that’s how you know them all, to be able to talk to them in the lobby during intermission?”

“Well, partly, but they are all in the local scene. I’d speculate that at least four of the ladies were dressed as severely as yourself.”

“That explains why this slavegirl felt so comfortable in their company, none of those glares of disgust like most of the other women gave her. They all smiled and chatted with me like old friends of yours.”

“Friends and customers; bondage furniture is not something you can pick up at a standard furniture store.”

“No, that’s for sure. Sir, have you had dinner, yet?”

“Getting a little peckish, are you?”

“Starving, Sir.”

He smiles at His loving slave and caresses her cheek. “Not to worry, we’re on our way to deal with that minor problem right now, I do hope you like seafood?”

“Well, not squid or octopus or shark, otherwise, yes, absolutely, slavegirl loves seafood.”

“Pretty much my own tastes, how nice. Well, there’s a very nice seafood joint up on the Danforth, a Greek place but they do a lot more than squid and eggplant.”

“Sounds wonderful, Sir, what about Mr. Carlos, our driver?”

“Oh, Carlos wouldn’t think of intruding, no doubt he’s well stuck into a good book, I know he has a thermos of coffee up there, this is not an unusual sort of evening for him. Still…Carlos, shall I have them send an order of that spanikopita you like out to you?”

“If you would be so kind, Sir, I am having a small attack of the munchies.”

“No problem, my friend, you’ll be parked in the lot out back, I take it?”

“Indeed, Sir, when I made the reservations I had them save a space in the lot for me.”

“You’re usual impeccable service, Carlos.”

“Thank you, Sir, just doing what Mr. William pays me for. The rest is just perks of the job.”

“Pleasant enough perks, though?”

“For sure, Sir. Here we are, I’ll let you off out front and then pull around back.”

Opening the rear door, he assists her with a steadying hand on her left elbow so that she can get out without moving her hands from the back of her neck. She stands on the sidewalk, elbows back, chest out, back straight, feet shoulder width apart and suddenly feels the vibrator at medium. She hasn’t felt it since before the show and is, by now, so used to wearing it she had forgotten its existence. No longer. Her Master takes His time getting out of the limo, enjoying the quivering of her body as she fights off the impending orgasm. Finally, the vibrations slow to the low setting, just enough to keep her hot and horny for hours. He takes her in His arms and spends some indeterminate amount of time exploring her tonsils. At last, when she is panting for breath…”Put your hands down, lets have dinner, no orgasm while we’re in the restaurant.”

“Yes, Sir, you’re slavegirl will try very hard to hold back.”

“Make sure you succeed, I’m looking forward to taking you to bed tonight.”

“Oooh…Sir, what torture…. And incentive, Yes, Sir, slavegirl will be good.”

“Good evening, Sir, welcome back. Your table is ready, a table with privacy, as you requested, if you will step this way, Sir….. Is this what you had in mind, Sir?”

“Yes, that potted tree gives a very nice bit of privacy, this will do very nicely, no, that’s alright, I will seat the lady myself, just leave us the menu, if you would.”

“Very good, Sir, your waiter will be with you shortly, please, enjoy your dinner.”

“Arms wrist to wrist at the middle of your back.” He clicks the padlock closed through her bangles, securing her wrists and then holds out a chair to seat her with her back to the room.

“Sit just on the edge of the chair, sit up, back straight, place your feet so the ankles are inside, touching the chair legs.”

“Like this, Sir?”  The position causes her tight skirt to ride up high on her thighs, exposing some creamy bare skin above her stocking tops.”

“Just like that, now they do a very nice salmon on a bed of rice with cream sauce, will that do for you?”

“Yes, Sir, that would be lovely, a lot of calories, though?”

“Not to worry, so long as you can hold out through dinner, I expect we can work the calories off later.”

“Good evening Sir, are you and the lady ready to order or shall I bring you a drink from the bar first?”

“Hello Stanislaus, yes, I think we’ll order now; the lady will have the salmon on rice and I believe I’ll have the surf and turf, crab legs, not lobster. I’d also like a quick peek at the wine list. First, though, our driver is parked out back, the Rolls limo, would you be kind enough to bring him out an order of spanikopita, when you have a moment?”

“Yes Sir, spanikopita, I’ll see to it myself.”

“While I’m studying the wine list, would you bring me a glass of your armangnac and a soda water with a twist of lime for the lady.”

“Yes Sir, coming right up.”

“Here you are, Sir, soda with a twist of lime and a straw for the lady and your armangnac, Sir. Your dinners will be ready in about twenty minutes, may I bring you an appetizer of some sort, perhaps a salad?”

“No thank you, Stanislaus, I don’t want to spoil our appetites for later.”

“Ah, yes Sir, I quite understand, I’ll bring your dinners in twenty minutes, then”

“Thank you, Stanislaus.”

Dinner proved to be the most excruciating torment! Being fed by her Master wasn’t at all unpleasant, quite the contrary, and the meal was superb. On the other hand, being forbidden to orgasm, when He’s taking such delight in toying with the speed control on her intruder and the ropes are biting so deliciously firmly into her most sensitive flesh is a level of torment more appropriate to Dante’s seventh level of hell. Sitting there knowing that at least some of the other diners can see her with her wrists bound behind her back and dress pulled up high on her thighs is enough in its own right to keep her juices flowing. Resisting the intense need to come while still maintaining her end of the conversation…. Absolute torture, and He knows it too, the savage Beast. Finally, after an eon of this, “Will there be anything else, Sir?”

No, thank you, Stanislaus, I believe that has taken care of our immediate needs. Very nice, indeed, my compliments to the chef. The crab legs were exquisite. Alaska King Crab?”

“Yes indeed, Sir, we don’t serve any other kind. The chef was Anna tonight, I’ll tell her you enjoyed your dinner.”

“Yes, do that. Here, I believe this out to cover the damage.”

“Indeed, Sir, I’ll bring the receipt and your change directly.”

“No, you keep it, buy something special for Anna.”

“Thank you kindly, Sir.”

“Be so good as to call our driver for us, if you would?”

“Certainly, Sir, right away.”

“Thank you and a very goodnight to you and the lovely Anna, see you again soon.”

“Good night Sir, thank you for dining with us. I hope you have a pleasant evening.

Walking with the vibrator going full blast, a slow strut through the restaurant out to the sidewalk to wait for Carlos, her teeth firmly clenched, trying desperately to hold back her orgasm that last few paces, she made it just in time.  Standing on the sidewalk, His arms around her and His lips on hers are just enough to hold her up through the crushing intensity of an orgasm so long delayed.

“Held out just long enough, I see. Well done, my precious, that should have you nicely warmed up for later.”

“Thank you, Sir, you descendant of Torquemada, you!”

“Are you implying that I, kindly, gentle soul that I am, was somewhat unkind to you in there?”
“Implying, Sir? No Sir, not implying, Sir.”

“Oh, well said, my luscious little slavegirl, I suppose I was testing your willpower. You did very well, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you Sir, you did offer me serious motivation.”

Right, well, here’s Carlos, into the car with you now.”

In the elevator: “Sir, slavegirl needs to refresh her lipstick, can she have her wrists freed for the moment?”

“No, pretty slave, it can wait until we’re inside, just remain kneeling like you are, only two more floors.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you for tonight, Sir. Slavegirl had a wonderful time, Sir.”

“It’s not over yet, my lovely.”

“Oooh, I…slavegirl is finding it hard to wait. Sir.”

“Speaking of hardness, what do you think it’s been like for me, these last few hours. It was all I could do not to rip off your dress and have you on the table there in the restaurant!”

“If Sir was uncomfortable, Slavegirl could have been ordered under the table to relieve Him?”

“No, my lovely, anticipation! Here’s our floor.”

“But Sir, my apartment is still two floors up?”

“I know, follow me.” He stops her in the stairwell, unlaces her dress and eases it down over her hips. She steps out of it to stand, nude save for her rope body harness, garterbelt, stockings and heels.

“Count to one hundred and then come up.”

“Yes Sir.” He collects her dress and starts up the stairs, her apartment key in hand.

       Maneuvering the stairway door open with her wrists cuffed together in the middle of her back proves to be a non-trivial challenge but doable on the third attempt.

Her apartment door is closed, what should she do? Knock with her forehead or kneel in the hallway and wait? She kneels, forehead to the floor, ass high in the air. The door opens, a flash of light from her digital camera. “Well done, my sweet, stand.” She rises gracefully to her feet and stands, head bowed, awaiting an invitation inside. First, though, her Master gently grasps her jaw and lifts, her eyes close as her lips open for His kiss. Another extended exploration of her tonsils, she is gasping for breath and somehow they have made their way into the bedroom. “Just stand here a minute, I’ll be right back, keep your eyes closed.”

He returns momentarily and she feels her leather blindfold being wrapped around her head, the snick of the lock, then He unties and unwraps the rope through her loins to remove the dildo that has been keeping her at peak all evening. He takes the two ends of the ½ inch manila where they dangle from the eyesplice at her belly, wraps and ties one end firmly around her right breast, the other around her left, then ties the two together behind her neck. Already, her breasts are swelling; her nipples have been hard all night, now they’re almost an inch long. She can’t see them, but she can surely feel them when he guides her onto her knees on the bed and pushes her back down ‘till her breasts are brushing the quilt. A brief pause, the sound of His zipper, His shoes flying across the room, the rustle of His shirt falling to the floor, her pussy quivering in eagerness, a creak of bedsprings as His warmth approaches behind her and suddenly, she is filled to the brim with His instrument, one long, magnificent thrust that thrills her to the marrow of her bones. He pauses to regain control, His right hand reaching around to finger her throbbing clit. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he begins sliding out and back in, out and in, a gentle rhythm that is rapidly driving her mad; she buries her face in the pillow to muffle her screams as her body begins to shake and the long denied orgasm almost breaks through.

“I don’t think that pillow is quite doing the job, don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back. She feels Him slowly sliding out of her, still rock hard, hears Him striding across the room. He returns and slides right back into her wetly dripping channel. “Lift your head a moment.” Her largest ballgag, the snick of padlock closing it snugly at the back of her neck, under her hair. His hands reach under to caress her swollen breasts, tweak her nipples as He resumes that same slow rhythm. She tries rocking her hips back and forth in an effort to increase His stimulation only to have his right hand swat her backhanded across the right cheek of her ass. Then his left similarly and both hands reach around to toy with her belly and clit. Work roughened fingers sliding across her most intimate flesh as that iron hard rod slides in and out, she’s so close, right on the verge, when suddenly, he slides out. She feels the bed compress to her left as He stretches out on His back. Then, His hand on her left thigh, guiding her up and over, her knees enclosing His hips, His plumbing pushing delicately at the entrance to her slit, kneeling upright now, she eases herself down His shaft. His hands on her breasts, establishing the rhythm, pinching her nipples when she goes too fast, stroking her gently when she slows. She gets into a regular up and down motion but its like pumping the bellows on a forge, her body trembles and shakes, her breath coming in short pants and gasps, suddenly, a loud intake of His breath and He stiffens. Just as she feels Him starting to spurt inside her, her own orgasm breaks loose. He keeps her moving up and down throughout what feels like five minutes of continuous shaking, then finally pulls her down to brush her breasts against His chest. The additional stimulation of His chest hair against her nipples wrings the last bit of orgasm out of her and she collapses against Him, moaning through her gag. His arms enclose her and pull her tight and she sighs with pleasure.

Some little while later, she feels the gag being unlocked and eased out of her mouth. “You can clean me up, now, and then we’ll hit the shower.”

Yes, Sir, thank you Sir, that was incredible, Sir.”  She kneels upright to allow His now softening penis to slide out of her warm, wet channel followed by a flow of mixed sperm and her juice onto His belly. She kneels beside Him and eagerly licks Him clean, slurping up the mixed juice like a kid with an ice cream on a hot summer day. She takes His beloved cock into her mouth, tonguing it clean and nuzzling into His pubic hair to get every last drop. She hears the lock on her blindfold being released, suddenly she can see Him again, she smiles around the cock in her mouth, gives it a last lick for good measure and kneels upright to offer her breasts for unbinding. “Well done, my lovely, I am well pleased with you. Let’s have that rope of and then shower. He sits up, unties the rope at the back of her neck, unties her left breast, then her right, pauses to massage some blood into the now painfully swollen orbs as she gasps in relief, then pulls the ends through the eyesplice at her belly and tosses the rope aside. A swat on her ass. “Stand up and strip, slavegirl, I think those nylons need a good soaking overnight.”

“Yes Sir, your slavegirl hopes her legs will hold her up while she strips.”

“Well, if you must kneel to strip, go ahead.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“That’s all right, I guess it might be partly my fault if your legs are a little weak at the moment.”

“Partly, Sir? Uh, Sir, how is your obedient slavegirl to strip with her hands locked behind her back?”

“Ah, good point….fetch that two foot chain and a pair of locks.”

Chapter 18

“Yes Sir.” She staggers out to the front hall, collects the items and returns to kneel at His feet, the chain and locks grasped firmly behind her back. She twists her body to offer the items to Him.

“No, I don’t think so, let’s find a more appropriate way, shall we.”

She thinks for a moment, drops the chain and locks on the floor, turns sideways to pickup the chain with her mouth and turns again to offer it to Him. Taking the chain, he says “I suppose that works well enough, somewhat inelegant though. What should you have done?”

“Your slavegirl should have thought to hook an open padlock onto each end of the chain and then carried the chain back from the front hall in her mouth.”

“Exactly right, my pretty; why didn’t you then?”

“Would Sir believe that His lovemaking has disconnected the higher brain functions of His adoring slavegirl?”

“Well, no, but it’s a good story, you stick with that.” He reaches for His keys, unlocks the padlock linking her wrists and refastens them with two feet of chain between the bangles. “There you go, my girl, carry on.”

She gets to her feet, steps through her chain, lifts it to her lips, kisses the middle of the chain then bends to unlace her spike heel sandals. With a gasp of relief, she eases them off her feet and stands to unhook her garter straps and roll the stockings down her legs.

“Feet a little sore, my dear?”

“Yes Sir, these are killers to wear for this long; it’s a good hurt though, wearing them to please a Master.”

“A good hurt. What an interesting concept. After we’ve had a shower, I’ll give them a rub.”

“Would you really, Sir?”

“Sure, they got hurt in the line of duty, so to speak, seems only reasonable to rub them better.”

“Oh Sir, your slavegirl is a very lucky girl!”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think its sort of a two way street, myself.”

“OH, what a lovely blush.”

“Sir is too kind to this unworthy slavegirl. Sir, may slavegirl be permitted to say that she loves her owner?”

“Loves, …owner, little… premature for that, don’t you think…it hasn’t even been a week, yet?”

“Sir, you have just given your slavegirl a lovely evening at the opera, a great dinner, transportation by Rolls Royce, the best lovemaking of her life and now you want to rub her feet? How lucky can a slavegirl get? She realizes she has much work to do to earn your love in return, but after everything you have given her these past few days, how could she help but fall in love with you. As far as owner goes, whatever happens from now on, you own her heart and mind, her body and soul, and will do until the day she dies, hopefully at the age of eighty, having just swallowed a mouthful of your semen.”

“We’ll talk about this anon; to the shower with you, my pretty!”

“Yes, darling Sir.”

      He takes His time, as usual soaping her breasts, belly and ass and then puts her to work soaping Him. Once again she is allowed the delicious pleasure of rubbing her soapy body all over Him, or at least, as much as she can reach of Him, being denied the use of her hands. Only one problem, she can feel Him getting hard, can she take another orgasm tonight, after all the pleasure He’s given her already?

   “Sir is particularly lustful tonight?”

  “My pretty slavegirl is particularly delectable tonight; I’m still enjoying the sight of you walking up the grand staircase, hips swaying, ass bouncing, flashing bits of bare thigh…I believe that a goodly number of the older men in attendance were on the verge of heart attack. They’d have died with smiles on their faces, for sure. Of course, there were any number of the women tonight who’d have cheerfully assassinated you on the spot They’d have had to get past me to do it! Some of them were thinking of giving it a try. That’s why I have my seats in the balcony, some people from the local scene for mutual protection. Sometimes we need it; too, your outfit wasn’t all that outlandish by comparison with some of the getups I’ve seen. Not all from the BDSM scene, either, some of the local Goths like to show up and shock the blue rinse crowd. Now, let’s get some shampoo into that hair.

He spends twenty minutes or so soaping and washing her hair, keeping her ass in contact with His by now fully erect member and then pulls her under the showerhead to rinse off. In the interest of getting every last bit of soap off her body, His hands run caressingly from neck to thighs, spending, for some inexplicable reason, an inordinate amount of time on her pubes, grazing a nipple occasionally, with malice aforethought.

“Sir is arousing His helpless slavegirl all over again.”

“Are you complaining, my hot little wench?”

“Oh no, Sir, it’s only that your slavegirl has to get up in the morning.”

“I don’t think so, that would imply that you’re going to get to go to bed! Well actually, that’s a not unreasonable supposition. Sleep, on the other hand, is not on the menu for tonight.”

“Moan.”

“Oh come now, girl, it can’t have been all that long ago since you last pulled an alnighter cramming for exams?”

“This slavegirl never crammed, she was always on top of her schoolwork, going all the way back to grade one, Sir.”

“Well now you’ll get to see how most people got through school, be good for you.”

“May slavegirl be permitted to dry her torturer, now?”

“Seems fair enough, I’ve dried you, and what do you mean, torturer?”

“Sir has already worn-out this slavegirl, she doesn’t have the strength for more of Sir’s loving, please Sir, permit slavegirl to serve with her mouth?”

“Nonsense, girl, a good foot massage, some coffee, you’ll be good to go for hours more!”

Chapter 19

“Right, girl, go and slip into your mules, bring the three foot chain, a bangle and locks to the couch.”

“Yes, darling Sir.”

Kneeling before Him, she offers up the items, then says “Sir, your adoring slavegirl needs to freshen her lipstick?”

“So you do, girl, but first priority is the shocking state of your ankles; squat, step through, then turn 90 degrees, go to your belly, feet up in the air.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good call, you chose to put your ankles close to my right hand, so right ankle, snick of padlock, bangle and lock the left ankle. What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? Give me your left wrist!”

“Yes Sir, sorry Sir, slavegirl wasn’t thinking, she forgot about the bangle, Sir.”

“This will never do, slavegirl, certain things must become completely automatic; if this sort of error happens again, there will be strokes!”

“Yes Sir. Sir will probably remember what His slavegirl mentioned about higher brain functions?”

“OK, fair enough. Now, coffee, ½ a pot, and fetch my pipe, tobacco and lighter from my jacket pocket; you may as well collect your lipstick at the same time, it’s the other pocket.”

“No, girl, I said coffee, then the other; always listen to the order in which I give instructions. It is not your responsibility to do things in the most efficient manner but, rather, in the order which I specify!”

“Yes Sir, slavegirl is sorry, Sir. At this rate, it will be decades before slavegirl will be able to go a month without earning strokes!”

“Hardly that bad, you’re doing very well, actually. Now stop fishing for compliments and put the coffee on!”

“Yes Sir.”

While waiting for the coffee to brew, she fetches His smoking supplies and her lipstick. She spends a moment redoing her lips and then kneels before Him to offer up His pipe.

“Good choice, slavegirl, you should always err on the side of redoing your lips rather than run the risk of kneeling before me without lipstick on.”

“Thank you Sir, your slavegirl was worried about that, she didn’t want to keep Sir waiting for His pipe but didn’t want to appear before Him with bare lips.”

“That’s all right, you made the right choice. Besides, you were obeying an earlier instruction. In any case, watching a slavegirl refreshing her lipstick is one of the quiet pleasures of being a Master, makes up for a lot of the stress we Masters undergo. I mean, keeping a slavegirl on her toes is no task for the faint of heart! Will there be a cup of coffee ready yet?”

“Yes Sir, slavegirl should be able to sneak a cup out of the pot.”

“Good, bring me a cup then.”

“Yes Sir.”

She returns, holding an extra large mug delicately between the tips of her fingers, kneels gracefully at His feet, lifts the mug delicately to her lips and gives it a long, passionate kiss. Then she lowers her head while raising the mug to Him. He takes the mug; “well done, slavegirl, the kiss mark is perfect, presentation was perfect, only one problem. You will recall, I said to bring me a cup of coffee! This much will get cold while I’m doing your feet. You must listen for the specific wording of commands, not interpret, not think, simply obey!”

With a crestfallen air, she winces and says “yes Sir, your slavegirl will try her very best to be an obedient slavegirl. She knows that Sir is perfectly capable of expressing Himself, she needs to pay closer attention to His words. Please Sir, permit slavegirl to take that back to the kitchen and serve You properly?”

“No, this will do, but your foot massage will have to wait while I get outside of most of this. In the meantime, you may assume the position. Squat, step through, turn 180 degrees, belly, feet in the air. Then, you may remove your shoes.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Why do you have your knees together.”

“Sir, your slavegirl is braindead. Is this better, Sir?”

“Yes, two feet should do very nicely; remember, you must ensure at all times that I have the very best possible view of your charms. No hiding anything! Now then let’s have the left foot.”

Holding her foot between His hands, He uses His thumbs to slowly massage away the aches and tension in he foot. Half an hour of this attention is having the usual effect on her slit and a pool of her juice is now forming on the carpet. “Slavegirl, you seem to be leaking; put your shoes back on, then lick up as much as you can from the carpet.”

“Yes, adorable Sir.” She puts her shoes back in place, lowers her legs to the floor, kneels up by inching her body backwards then bends forward to the puddle, lifting her ass high to give Him an unobstructed view as she licks the carpet clean.

“You’ll have to shampoo the carpet tomorrow, if you have time. That will do for now, fetch a large towel.”

“Yes Ssiirr.” Through a haze of lust.

She returns with a heavy blue bathtowel held in both hands, kneels to spread it lengthwise in front of Him, squats to step through her chains, and kneels back on her heels, thighs welllll spread!

“Well done, my luscious slave, fetch me another coffee, a mug this time.”

“Yes Sir Is Sir done with that mug?”

“Not yet, and in any case, you will always serve me a fresh container, I don’t want to see two kiss marks on the same mug.”

“Of course not, Sir, always a fresh one!”

She returns, goes through the ritual including the stepping through and kneeling on her heels.

“This lipstick mark is sort of borderline, I’ll let it slip this once but don’t push your luck unless you really want to start tomorrow with a sore ass!”

“Your slavegirl is sorry, Sir, she is still unsure how much lipstick to put on each time, she’ll get it right soon.”

“By Friday night, or there will be strokes! Now, assume the position and we’ll do the other foot.”

A half- hour of gentle massage to this foot, then; “kneel slavegirl.”

Before kneeling back, she applies lipstick and addresses herself lengthily to His feet. “Thank you, Sir, that was wonderful, and it has your humble slavegirl incredibly aroused. Will Sir wish to use her now?”

“Careful pretty slave, that is right on the edge of begging for use! And, no, not yet. We have the details of a ritual to practise. You will recall when you got home tonight that I gave instructions on a specific ritual to  be performed upon first entering a room where your Master happens to be.”

“Yes Sir, what shall your obedient, desperately horny slavegirl do, Sir?”

“First, get partially dressed; that means heels, stockings, garterbelt, skirt and halter, then go out into the hallway, down two flights of stairs, cross to the other staircase, come up that and return. Knock on the door when you get here.”

“Yes Sir.” She rises to her feet, crosses to the front closet, pulls out a fresh pair of stockings and slides off her right shoe. Then, she carefully pulls the stocking over her foot and rolls it underneath the chain enclosing her ankle. Leaving it furled above the chain, she slides into a five-inch mule. She repeats the process with her left leg, then puts on her narrow black lace garterbelt. Slowly rolling the stocking up her right leg, she stretches it taut before fastening the garterstraps. Same with the left leg, then she has to find a skirt. An old pleated blue grey plaid from her highschool days, very short on her now and small enough that the wrap around doesn’t quite. She’s showing a healthy amount of bare left thigh! Now, for a halter? How about this red silk number that she bought three years ago and has never dared wear. Skimpy, unlined, tiny straps across her back that tie under her breasts and around her neck. Shows her nipples at fullll stretch; no one who sees her will have any doubts about her readiness for use. Of course, the likely chance of there being someone about at this ungodly hour of the early morning is rather slim. She presents herself before Him, does a curtsey, bows from the waist to step through her chains and, squaring her shoulders, marches off to do His bidding.

Half an hour later, when there has still been no knock on the door, He goes out into the hallway to see what may be seen. Just then, Juliette comes rushing through the door from the staircase with two grubby looking fellows in hot pursuit.

“Do you gentlemen want something?”

“Out of our way, we want the slut!” says the short, thickset one.

“What slut, there’s no one here but my ladyfriend. If you’re referring to her, clean up your language or I’ll have to hurt you.”

“You and what army, old man?”

“Boys, you really shouldn’t take drugs, they destroy your brain. I’m bigger than both of you put together, I’m stronger than both of you put together, AND I’M FASTER THAN BOTH OF YOU PUT TOGETHER. Also, I don’t take prisoners! Now, apologize to the lady and be on your way!

“Yes Sir, sorry Sir, I guess we got a little carried away. Sorry to have bothered you, Ma’am.”

“Sorry ma’am, sorry sir, we’ll be going now.”

“Have a pleasant evening, gentlemen.”

“Come on in.”

“My god, Sir, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so terrified in my life. Three sentences, and they were quivering in their boots.”

“Not such a large problem projecting menace, when you’re as big as I am. I once saw a skinny little banty rooster of an RSM do the same thing to a pair of bikers. Of course, he was a black belt in more different martial arts than I can count with my boots on. It’s all in showing confidence.”

“And having the confidence to show; not something you can fake!”

“Well no, but I’ve never had any trouble that way, people just naturally seem to assume I mean what I say. They’re quite correct, of course, I really don’t take prisoners!”

Long pause for kissing, then “thank you Sir, for being there to protect m…your obedient, loving slavegirl.”

“Pretty much goes with the territory. Now then, I’m returning to the couch. We will assume you’ve just got home from work, stop when you’re at the right distance away to be kissing my feet when you kneel.”

“Yes Sir.”

This time out, she faces Him to strip, turning to put each individual piece back in the closet as she slowly, sensuously removes it, bending with her legs well spread, her ass towards Him, to remove her stockings and mules and put on her gold lace up sandals. She straightens, turns to remove her garterbelt, turns again and bends low to place it in the underwear drawer of the small dresser in her closet, giving it a kiss before putting it away, then turns again, bends, steps through, straightens, squares her shoulders and struts over to stand at slavegirl attention, her feet shoulder width apart, wrists beside her ass, head bowed, eyes closed.

“Well done, excellent, my girl. Now, kneel up.”

“Yes Sir. Like this, Sir?”

“Keep your posture just as you were standing and your thighs need to be vertical, Now, at this point, you have the option of doing a bellyroll to show eagerness, a shimmy to indicate pleasure or applying lipstick, choose one.”

“May a slavegirl not be permitted to show both eagerness and pleasure, Sir?”

Not unless you’ve been deprived for some time, which I don’t believe is the case tonight!”

“Sir is a cruel, evil beast, Sir!”

“Don’t lie to me girl, tell me how you really feel.”

A loooong, slow shimmy!

“It would seem that you’re not entirely unhappy, very well, now bend from the waist, get your ass high up in the air and do the honours to my shoes.”

Ten minutes of lascivious kissing later, a fingersnap, “kneel up, girl.”

“Right, now hold that pose for a count of five, then, if you’ve approached me to present greetings, as now, you may settle back on your heels. If, on the other hand, you’ve approached me to beg, you would now bend backward from the waist, keeping your thighs vertical, until your head touches the floor. At that point, you again have the same three options. You would then hold that pose until you hear me snap my fingers, which means yes, or clap my hands, which means no. If you’ve been granted permission to speak, you then straighten your body to vertical, hold for a five count and sink back on your heels. You may then beg. If permission has been denied, you straighten up, bend from the waist and lick my shoes clean. If all this is clear, you may sink down and then repeat the instructions.”

“Sir, your slavegirl understands.” She then repeats all of the instructions, word for word.

Chapter 20

“Very well done, my precious; do you feel the need to practise or are you confident you have both rituals down?”

“Your slavegirl believes she can perform the ritual up to the point of bending backwards, she will have to practise that part and strengthen her back; it may take several weeks until her back is strong enough to be able to beg, Sir"

“Very well then, we will assume that permission has been denied; take it from there.”

She slowly straightens her body, bends forward and delicately laps at the lipstick on His shoes until they are shiny clean, then straightens up, holds and sinks back onto her heels.

“You are a treasure. Now, fetch that rope from the bedroom, the one you wore earlier.”

She returns with rope on fingertips and kneels to present it to Him, then squats, steps through and kneels again.

“Excellent, perfectly done.” She glows with pride and pleasure and gives a completely involuntary shimmy.

“Oh, very good, yes, a shimmy in any circumstance is to be used to indicate pleasure. Now, we hold the eye between your breasts, feed the rope around your right side, under your arm, across your back, under the left arm and back through the eye. Now up around your neck, back down and around your right breast, followed by your left breast, pull snug; feed through the eye and knot. This gives us a two-foot leash, should be just about right. Pickup that bathtowel and follow me.”

He takes her into the kitchen, folds the bathtowel several times and lays it across the top back of one of her wooden kitchen chairs. He bends her over the chairback and pulls the leash snugly to tie it off to the bottom crossbar of the back. “What’s this I see, still a cup of coffee left, well that will never do, but first, a message from our sponsor.” He leaves the kitchen, returning momentarily having collected certain essentials.  First, her blindfold, snick, the lock closes at the back of her head. Then, she hears the sound of a cup of coffee being poured. Then, His fingers investigating her current condition of wetness, “Yes, this should do very nicely, dripping again, oh well, mess on the floor can be dealt with later. The vibrator slides alll the way in. Gasp. On medium speed…..Oh God, how many orgasms is he going to give me tonight. Has He no mercy at all? “Now, just so we don’t wake your neighbours at this ungodly hour, open wide.” That padlock clicks at the back of her neck: she hears a chair being pulled out, the scrape of a coffee cup at the table, the flick of His lighter, smell of His tobacco, “take your time, I’m in no hurry!”

She’s writhing and shaking in her bonds, the rope around her breasts causing them to swell, again, her nipples hardening even more, the chair is starting to bounce off the floor…”getting a little overheated there, girl, I’ll just back this off a notch, don’t want you getting there too soon. I still have a full bowl and half a cup of coffee. Very nice coffee, by the way, Sulawezi? Oh, I forgot, your mouth is kinda full just the now. You just kick back and relax.”

Relax, He says, tied bent over like this with a vibrator humming away gently, her nipples throbbing, her breasts swollen, vaginal lubricant running down her thighs, there’ll be gallons to lick up when He’s finally done with her. OOH, she’s getting close just a few more minutes., PLEASE, SIR! Sure enough, just as she’s on the very edge, He shuts off the toy. ARRGH, MOAN. Some little while for her to cool and suddenly the vibrator is slid out, to be replaced immediately by the full length of Him. OHH!!! MASTER!!!!! Again, the loonngg., sllooow strokes, OHH, this is torture, OHH Please, Master, let me ccommee. Long endless minutes that feel like centuries later, His tempo speeds up, His rod is stroking her g-spot with each pass, His right hand fondling her clit while His left squeezes her ass. Her body begins an uncontrollable spasm just as she feels Him start to stiffen and spurt into her.

Some while later, she feels Him releasing the gag.

Ohh, thank you, Sir, your slaaavegirl has never been so well used in her life. If it gets better than this, she doesn’t think she really wants to know.”

“Well, you have chores to do now, first me, then the floor, we’ll just release the leash from the chair for the moment, if you do a good job on the floor while blindfolded, we’ll release your breasts, as well.”

He helps her to stand and guides her to her knees to lick Him clean, which, despite the aftershocks of that earthquake and her general exhaustion, she manages with commendable enthusiasm. When He pulls out and steps away to relight His pipe, she begins on the floor. Sure enough, the pool this time would have floated the Ark. Much later, she kneels to look (through her blindfold) at Him, in hopes she has done an acceptable job; her breasts are starting to hurt.

“Good job for your first attempt in a blindfold, this is obviously going to take some practise. Still, I guess we can have your breasts out of that rope now.” He unties the figure of eight enclosing her breasts but leaves the remainder of the rope tied in place. She can feel the loose end dangling over her abdomen and belly; it tickles as she moves. “Now then, girl, go and turn on the shower, I’ll be along in a moment.”

“Yes, Sir”

She staggers to the bathroom, not entirely due to the blindfold but manages the trick. It’s not the first time she’s walked through her apartment in a blindfold and chains; she’s actually quite well practised at that part of it. It’s the trying to walk at all when she’s just been screwed to within an inch of her life, for the second time tonight. Whatever happens in the future, today has set the bar waaaay high! After adjusting the temperature to where He likes it, she kneels beside the shower. A moment later, the snick of the padlock opening, she looks up at His erection. “Ohh please, Sir, no more tonight; your lowly, humble, submissive, obedient loving slavegirl can’t take any more!”

“That’s OK, my most precious slave, I’m just teasing you; got to save something for the weekend.”

“Thank you, M..Sir.”

“Sir, this has been the most incredible night of this slavegirl’s life, thank you, Sir.”

“OH, very much my pleasure, dear one. Into the shower with you now.”

“Sir,…? .
“S’okay, it’ll dry.”

This time, He holds her up with one arm while soaping her body and shampooing her hair with the other, before washing and rinsing her clean.  He takes a couple of minutes to give Himself a quick wash, still holding her up with one arm and then; “turn off the water now, girl while I reach a towel to dry my pretty slavegirl.”

Twenty minutes later, her hair wrapped in a towel to finish drying; he leads her by the rope end back to the kitchen. “I think you’d better make a full pot of coffee, you look like you could use a little. Then we should see what’s available for breakfast.”

What’s this, pre-ground coffee, hmm, have to get you a proper grinding mill. I’ll see what I can find. Now, what are we to do for breakfast?”

“Slavegirl has eggs, of course and she could thaw out some breakfast sausages in the nuker?”

“No, I think I want muesli, there’s a place in Yorkville that does a very nice bowl, I’ll drive us down there and then drop you off at work. It’s seven o’clock now, should be plenty of time. You start getting dressed; this once, you may wear clothes inside the apartment and drink your coffee at the kitchen table.”

“Sir is spoiling His devoted slavegirl.”

End chapter 20