What I did on my Holidays.

- Training Day Pt 1 -

That night Dave lay in bed thinking over the evening’s events. He’d had several glasses of wine and was feeling more than a little dizzy. His sex life, which, apart from a few fumbles at the student disco, had previously consisted entirely of his right hand, had come alive in a very major way and, even now, he was still hard from just thinking about it. He was somewhat in awe of the three women; even Jenny who was not much older than him, seemed so much more sophisticated, but, as they had chatted away the evening it had been very friendly and welcoming.

Naturally the conversation had centred around pony boys and girls. They had discussed the etiquette of pony training; how, for example, a pony would never speak because ‘who ever heard of a talking pony’. How they would have pony shows where sometimes the ponies were raced and sometimes they had ‘dressage’ contests. Dave asked about a harness; naturally custom designed leatherwear like that did not come cheap and was well outside Dave’s budget but both Chris and Jo promised to help with spare bits of kit which could be called into use. The tail, however, was another matter. Not only were they costly but they were custom made and very individual. Dave would have to wait a while before he would get one.

They also discussed the importance of names; Jenny, for example, became ‘Simmonds the Maid’ or ‘Freckles the Pony’ depending on what roles were being played. This helped keep the separate areas separate and let everyone know where they stood. It was stressed that the naming ceremony was an important part of a pony’s training and the name would be chosen by his owner, not by the pony, so Dave would have to wait to find out what his pony name he was going to have.

They had asked Dave if he had any particular sexual likes or dislikes but he really couldn’t answer as his experience was so limited. Christine commented that, as all involved were broad minded consenting adults acting in private, to a large extent the only limits were safety and the participant’s imagination and sometimes the most suitable punishment for a naughty pony was to force them to do something they were reluctant to do, rather than keeping strictly within everyone’s comfort zones. They also explained about safe words but again they stressed that part of the fun is finding that you can go just that bit further than you thought.

In particular Dave thought about Jo, or rather Mistress Joanne. Although she was probably nearly as old as his mother, she was, without doubt, the sexiest woman he had ever met. His admiration of her knew no bounds; her style and her sophistication made him feel like a bumbling ingénue and he was flattered that she had paid him so much attention. Although no specific date had been set she had mentioned that she was interested in ‘training’ him and would be in contact to make suitable arrangements. He wondered how soon she would call and just what the training would entail. Almost certainly he would be put to use as a pony boy and she would be his ‘owner’, that had been perfectly clear, but Mistress Joanne had hinted at far, far more besides.

He remembered, how could he ever forget, the sensations as she had knelt astride him. How powerless he’d felt, how much an instrument of her pleasure, but how good it had felt to be that instrument. He remembered the words she’d said: ‘But, filth, you’ll come crawling back, crawling on your belly through the dirt, begging me for my favours, begging me to even notice you. You’ll give everything you’ve got just to be allowed to drink my piss.’ Would he? There was no doubt about it; he would do anything she asked, anything at all and he would feel honoured to be allowed to worship. He would never, ever, forget how it had felt as she knelt over him, how she had slid him deep inside her, how she had ridden him until they had both climaxed and how coming inside her had felt so wonderful, so incredible, so fantastically good. And, if the price to be paid was a well caned bottom, then so be it. Indeed, mixed in with the pain was a perverse pleasure; he remembered the feeling of his rock hard penis rubbing against the leather top of the horse as he had bucked and wriggled whilst the cane had turned his buttocks into ball of searing pain. He smiled to himself and, gently fondling his still hard penis, drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, back at Castle Combe, Jo snuggled under the covers in the guest room. She’d was far too tipsy to drive home and Christine and Jenny, as on many previous occasions, had invited her stay the night; indeed, she kept an overnight bag there for just such occasions. She too was replaying the evening’s events. It had been a while since she was so intrigued by a potential playmate; although the sex had not been that spectacular, breaking in a virgin, in all senses of the word, had given an added twist to her orgasm. It wasn’t often they found new members for the pony club and very rare to find someone as young as David. Forty was fast approaching and, although she took care of herself and spent plenty of time in the gym keeping fit, like every woman she worried about the ravages of time. To have a boy, yes, a boy of nineteen, so obviously enamoured of her charms was very flattering; all the more so in that he seemed keen to play it the way she liked it. What’s more, he had shown a remarkable level of self control; far too many others had failed to last the course, putting their own pleasure before hers and shooting their load long before she was ready leaving her high and dry, and, whilst cunnilingus was all very well, there was nothing like climaxing with a good hard prick deep, deep inside you.

She decided she’d leave him dangling for a few days, it didn’t do to seem too keen, but she’d made sure she’d got his mobile number and she was definitely going to use it. To think that the poor innocent didn’t know what his tongue was for! He was certainly going to learn and she was going to have so much fun teaching him.

For three long days Dave kept checking his mobile, willing it to ring. Jo had stressed that he was to wait for her to call him; she wouldn’t tolerate it the other way round. She was making certain that, right from the start, Dave knew who was in control. In the end it wasn’t a phone call after all, but a text message which simply said

The Old Ale House

Truro

Tomorrow 11:30

Bring overnight bag

Getting to Truro wasn’t going to be too much of a bother, there was a passable bus service which would get him there in plenty of time. Explaining to his mother where he was going with an overnight bag was another matter; it was nice that she cared so much but sometimes she could be over protective. After all, he was nineteen. In the end he invented a story about a friend from college who was surfing in Newquay and had invited him to stay over for a day or two. His mum offered him a lift but he managed to get out of it.

The bus to Truro rattled its way into the town centre at ten thirty so he had plenty of time to spare before he was due at the pub. He quickly found the Old Ale House but, rather than wait inside, decided to wander round the town for a while. He didn’t want to have an hour’s worth of drinking under his belt and be sqiffy before Jo even arrived. That was another point; he wasn’t sure whom he was meeting, Jo or Mistress Joanne, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. He wandered from shop to shop staring at the goods in the window but, even with all the prevaricating, he was still sat in the bar with a pint in front of him well before it was time.

Eleven thirty came and went, so did eleven forty five. Dave had been anxious enough when he’d arrived; now he was a bundle of nerves. Each time the door opened he looked up but each time it wasn’t her. The time was nearly twelve and he was beginning to think he had been set up when she finally arrived. Dave’s heart skipped a beat. As ever she was elegantly dressed in a businesslike knee length skirt and matching jacket and was, without doubt, the classiest lady he’d ever known. She glanced round the pub, spotted him, came over and sat down.

“So, you made it Ok.” She said.

“Yes, Madam.”

“Not ‘Madam’, not now, there’s plenty of time for that later. It’s David and Jo at the moment, Ok? Now I’d like a glass of white wine please, and fetch us a couple of menus, the food is very good here.”

Dave went to the bar and ordered her a glass of wine. He hoped he wouldn’t have to buy all the drinks. As a gentleman he knew he should but as a student his funds were strictly limited. He grabbed a couple of menus off the bar and brought them back to the table. Jo flicked through the menu a couple of times and then settled on the prawn salad. Dave baulked at the price but got up to order it anyway.

“Is my student friend worried about his finances?” Jo asked when she saw his face. Reaching into her purse she slipped him a twenty pound note. “Here, this will help.”

Gratefully Dave took the money and went off to order lunch. Until they had cleared their plates the talk was general, but, once they were finished, Jo leaned forward and ran her fingers along the top of Dave’s thigh.

“Are you ready for this?” She asked quietly.

“Yes, please, Madam.” Dave replied.

“Then let’s get one thing quite clear from the start. This is about my pleasure; I’m in charge and what I say goes. We both know that you like having your bottie smacked, and, if you’re a good boy, you might get a nice little reward from time to time, but don’t go thinking this will be a bed of roses and you’re going to be shooting your load every five minutes. Use the safe word if you have to but don’t go using it just because you’re not getting everything your own way. I’ve known far too many slaves who think that they have the right to tell their Mistress how she should treat them; they’re wrong. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now drink up, it’s time we got started.”

Dave swallowed the dregs of his pint and they got up and headed for the car park. Dave recognised the Mercedes he’d seen outside Castle Combe and together they walked over to it. As they drove off into the countryside Dave glanced across; Jo drove with the same calm assurance with which she did everything and looked totally at home at the wheel of the expensive car. Twenty minutes or so later they pulled up at a large detached house on the outskirts of a small village. They swept up the drive and straight into the open garage. Jo clicked the button on a remote and the door closed behind them.

“Once you enter the house there’s no going back, you’re mine to do with what I will, I’ll expect total obedience and you’ll be punished if I don’t get it; if you’ve got any doubts you had better state them now.” Jo looked across at Dave who just nodded. “Ok, you won’t need your clothes; you’re to leave them out here and be naked before you enter the house. You’ll find a locker over in that corner. Get undressed and hang your clothes up in it and lock the door when you’re done. The only thing you will need is your wash kit. Everything else should be locked away. When you’ve finished bring the key to me.”

Jo got out of the car and, without further ado, headed for the house. His heart pumping and his stomach full of butterflies, Dave got out, went to the boot of the car, retrieved his overnight bag and found the locker. The key, which was in the lock, was attached to a fine chain. As he undressed and hung his clothes up he felt as if he were preparing himself. Outside the house he’d be dressed, he’d be Dave, he’d be a free man. Inside the house he would be naked and he’d be disowning his freedom. He was simultaneously nervous and excited. Would this, could this, live up to his expectations? Was he about to enter heaven, or hell? Despite his nerves, despite the bazaar circumstances of getting undressed in a strange garage, Dave could feel an anticipatory tingle in his groin and his penis was already responding. He finished undressing, turned the key in the lock and headed for the house.

The door from the garage opened into the kitchen where Mistress Joanne was waiting for him. She too had changed and was wearing a kimono similar to the one he’d seen her in back at Castle Combe.

“What took you so long?” She demanded.

“I’m sorry, Madam…” Dave started.

“Sorry! I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. Why aren’t you on your knees?”

Dave dropped to his knees.

“I’m sor…” he started again. Quick as a flash Mistress Joanne slapped him across the face causing him to tumble to the floor.

“I said I didn’t want to hear your excuses. Are you deaf as well as stupid. Do you want to be my slave? Well, do you?”

“Yes, please, Madam.”

“You haven’t got off to a very good start. You’re going to have to do much better than that if I’m to even begin considering training you. There are plenty of others out there, plenty who’d give anything to be where you are now and if you don’t make the grade you’re out, thrown out with the rubbish like the piece of dirt you are. Now, hand me the key.”

Dave passed the locker key to Mistress Joanne who hung it round her neck. The chain was just the right length to leave it dangling at the top of her cleavage. She then took his wash bag from him and laid it on the kitchen work surface.

“Hmm. We need to do something to keep this under control.” Mistress Joanne leant back against the work surface and prodded Dave’s penis with the toe of her high heeled shoe. “We can’t have it flopping about, we need some way to control it.”

As Mistress Joanne’s shoe played with Dave’s penis it started to stiffen, and, the more it stiffened, the more she played with it. Without thinking Dave opened his knees and pushed his groin forward to give her better access.

“Ooh, look who’s getting excited.” Mistress Joanne mocked. “Floor. Now!”

Dave lay on the floor and Mistress Joanne rested the sole of her shoe on Dave’s groin. Pushing quite hard she moved her foot in a circular motion as his penis stiffened beneath it.

“That’s where you belong, lying on the floor under the sole of my shoe, isn’t it? Do you think a real man would get excited grovelling at the foot of his Mistress? Of course not, but a pathetic little specimen like you,  a worm, a useless piece of trash, you just love it, don’t you?”

“Yes, Madam.” Dave almost whispered.

“I’ve been thinking about what to call you, what name would convey the disdain I feel for you.” Still Mistress Joanne’s foot worked at his penis. “I think I’ll call you piglet. That would suit a dirty little pervert like you. Ok, that’s enough.”

Mistress Joanne removed her foot and stood up. Dave, who had been close to coming, couldn’t stop a groan of disappointment.

“What’s that, piglet? Didn’t you want me to stop?” Mistress Joanne asked, her voice full of contempt.

“Please, Madam.” Dave begged.

“Please, what?” Mistress Joanne snapped back. She moved, placing her foot so that this time the sole of her shoe was across Dave’s mouth. “So soon, you’ve forgotten what I said. This is for my pleasure, not yours.” She increased the pressure on his face. “I will play with my toy as and when I want to; your job, your only job, is to be available for my pleasure. It looks like you could do with a little reminder of that. Follow me.”

She turned and left. Dave started to get up but realised in time that this would be a mistake so, keeping on his knees, he followed her into the living room. When they entered Mistress Joanne just pointed at a leather pouffe and Dave had the sense to position himself over it. She went over to a sideboard and picked up a wooden paddle that was lying on it.

As Mistress Joanne stood over Dave she noted that the marks from his last thrashing had almost disappeared. She’d mark him again later, give him some stripes to let him now where she’d been, but that would have to wait. However willing, however subservient, he would need some time to recover from a severe thrashing and, if she had all her fun now, it would leave nothing for later on. On the other hand the paddle wouldn’t do any real damage, just warm things up a bit.

Straddled across the pouffe as he was, Dave’s buttocks were well presented and Mistress Joanne could clearly see the puckered ring of his anus. It was a pity, Mistress Joanne mused to her self, that tails are so expensive. There’s something very satisfying about watching a man squirm as a well lubricated plug is pushed up his backside and she was almost certain that David was a virgin in that area as well. Furthermore, once fitted, there was something about the way a well filled bottom made the wearer waddle when he walked. Still, even without a tail available, there were plenty of butt plugs ready for use. That was another area he wouldn’t be staying a virgin for long.

She laid the paddle across his backside to get the position, drew it back and THWAPP!! Mistress Joanne loved the sound of a firm paddle across a well padded arse. Dave’s body jerked but he kept quiet. She could see that his penis was still fully erect and his wriggles were rubbing it against the leather of the pouffe. Well, so bit it; let him wriggle away. She wasn’t going to let him be like that long enough for it to do him any good and, the longer he was hard, the more frustrating he would find having it locked away.

THWAPP!! Dave squirmed as the paddle landed across his buttocks. Whilst it stung it was nowhere near as painful as the cane had been and the discomfort was countered by the feelings coming from his penis as he moved against the leather of the pouffe. THWAPP!! Another blow fell and, whether Mistress Joanne was striking harder, or his backside was getting more sensitive, the result was the same; the pain was more intense and it was all he could do to stop his hands flying back to protect himself. THWAPP!! Dave hands gripped the sides of the pouffe trying to control the pain. His eyes were full of tears and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from crying out loud. THWAPP!! At the fourth stroke he lost control and a squeak of pain escaped him. The tears were flowing freely now and he no longer tried to pretend to be brave. THWAPP!! THWAPP!! For two more strokes all he could do was lie there and take what was coming to him.

Mistress Joanne put the paddle back on the sideboard and returned to stand over Dave. She gave him a few moments to get his breath back.

“Well, piglet, what do you say?” She asked at last.

“Thank you, Madam.” Dave replied.

“Good boy. Now it’s time you learnt how to say ‘thank you’ properly.” She went over to the sofa, undid the tie of her kimono, and opening it wide, sat down. “Come here, little boy.”

Dave shuffled over on his knees to kneel before her. Now that her kimono was open he could see that she was wearing a black lacy bra, matching French knickers, and a suspender belt holding up her stockings. She reached down and pulled the gusset of her knickers to one side revealing a well trimmed pubic mound and the lips of her vagina.

“Listen carefully, piglet. I don’t expect to have to repeat myself.”  Briefly she told Dave what was expected of him. Firstly she explained the mechanics, where the clitoris is, and how to caress it with his tongue, but then she went on to explain how he was not to rush things, how men always wanted to go straight to the clitoris whereas a more gentle, more circuitous approach was required. She explained how he should keep a steady rhythm, matching the intensity of his tongue to the mood of his Mistress, starting small and building to a climax.

“This might be the only time you’re allowed to tease your Mistress and get away with it.” She smiled. “Now let’s see if you’ve listened to what I’ve said.”

Dave leaned forward and kissed her just at the top of her vagina lips. Then gently, softly, he pushed them apart with his tongue. The taste and smell of an aroused woman, washed through him, intoxicating him and he felt a deep humility. All he wanted was to worship, to be allowed to serve, to be the instrument of her pleasure. Tenderly he eased the outer lips apart and, running his tongue along her inner lips, was rewarded by a sigh of pleasure. It was all so new that he took his time, exploring her with the tip of his tongue, working his way up, first one side and then the other, until he found the waiting bud of her clitoris and started work in earnest.

Despite his inexperience Dave’s desire to serve meant that he was keenly aware of every response from his Mistress. It wasn’t just the way her clitoris swelled beneath his tongue, rather it was the way he could feel the muscles in her legs and hips tense and relax, the way in which she moved so as to pull his face further into her groin. Gradually, wave upon wave, he felt her passion grow and he matched it by increasing the intensity of his licking. Her breathing was shallow, her muscles taught, his face was now locked between her thighs and he was close to suffocating, but he didn’t dare stop, he didn’t want to stop. He knew she was close, even a novice like him could tell, she arched her back, held off the sofa by her shoulders against the back and her heels dug into the carpet.

“Oh God, yes… yes… like that… don’t stop… don’t you dare… Oh yes… A bit harder… Oh, yes, yes… OH YES!” Mistress Joanne’s whole body tensed, every nerve as taught as a bowstring and then exploded. Dave felt his mouth fill as she flooded him with her climax. He tried hard to follow the thrashing body but once she’d had enough he was thrown aside, to lie on the floor awaiting whatever came next. For a minute or two there was silence,  the only sound in the room the ticking of the grandfather clock. Then Mistress Joanne roused herself from the sofa and sat up to look at Dave lying on the floor at her feet.

“Umm, piglet, what a good little boy you are.” She purred. She reached down and took Dave’s penis in her hand. Although it had become semi flaccid it immediately stiffened again as she played with it. Washed in her post orgasmic glow she was feeling relaxed and benign; not that she was going to let him come anytime soon, but she’d play with him for a while, get him nicely worked up. Anyway it amused her to have so much power over a man, to have him literally in the palm of her hand. What was the old saying? If you have them by the balls…Mistress Joanne was no novice at teasing and it wasn’t long before Dave’s penis was rock hard again and his balls felt like they we’re about to explode. She watched the expression on his face, and the glistening tip of his penis, getting him right to the edge time and time again before…

“Right, I can’t sit around all day doing nothing. We need to get you properly dressed. There’s a leather holdall in the closet next to the front door. Go and fetch it.”

Dave groaned in disappointment. Mistress Joanne’s fingers had felt wonderful and he had been on the brink of coming before she had so cruelly stopped. It took all he had not to grab himself and finish off the job but he knew how that would go down. Furthermore he was rapidly discovering just how much he loved being controlled, how the deep eroticism of the BDSM games, however frustrating in the short term, were far more satisfying than the instant relief of a quick wank. He got to his feet and went to fetch the holdall. When he returned Mistress Joanne told him to put it at her feet and go and stand by the pouffe with his legs apart. She then got him to lean over so that his hands were resting on its surface with his bottom uppermost, as if he were bent over to receive another punishment.

“Now then, what have we got that will suit a piglet like you.” Mistress Joanne rummaged about in the bag. “Yes, this will do, this will do nicely.”

She came up behind Dave and reached around his waist. He could feel a firm leather belt being pulled tight around his middle. He glanced backwards; there was the triangle of a leather pouch hanging from the belt, and a length of chain hung down from that. Obviously the chain was to be passed back between his legs holding the pouch in place but Mistress Joanne didn’t seem to be in any hurry; she was fussing with something from the bag. Then he felt it, the tip of a well lubricated dildo pushing against his anus. His natural reaction was to tense, to fight against it but Mistress Joanne was pushing firmly and his anus was yielding. Then the puckered ring of his sphincter parted and the dildo slipped inside, forcing him open.

“I don’t think I can…” Dave begun. The dildo felt huge inside him and his natural reflex was to try and expel it.

“Silence!” Mistress Joanne snapped back and gave the dildo another firm thrust. Then she reached down and grabbed the chain dangling between his legs. She threaded it through a hole at the base of the dildo and, pulling the chain up between his buttocks, and fastened it tightly to the belt where they met in the small of his back. Now that the pouch was on Dave could appreciate both how tightly it held his penis, crushing it against his groin, and how the chain between his buttocks held the dildo, preventing it from slipping in, or out. He had no idea how big it actually was, but it felt enormous inside him, filling him up and holding his sphincter wide open. It was an odd sensation, simultaneously uncomfortable and erotic. Part of him wanted it removed, part of him wanted it there, and part of him wondered what it would feel like to be taken, to have the dildo thrust back and forwards. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Could he even take it?

Leaving him still bent over Mistress Joanne fitted wrist and ankle cuffs, each fitted with a small padlock.

“That’s better. Now go upstairs and run me bath.”

Dave went upstairs, waddling to try to minimise the discomfort from the dildo. He found the bathroom, went to the bath and turned on the taps. Whilst it was filling he experimented with the pouch. As he suspected, the chains were locked together by a yet another padlock; there was no way he could remove it without the key. He could, if he tried hard enough, just slip his fingers under the leather pouch, but it was too tight for him to do anything once he had done so. Furthermore, he was stuck if he needed to use the toilet. He reached behind him and examined the end of the dildo with his fingers. The chain held it quite tightly but he was going to have to be careful if he sat down. There wasn’t that much sticking out but, even so, if he sat down quickly what little there was would be thrust inside him.

He tested the water and was busy adjusting the taps when Mistress Joanne arrived. Without even glancing at Dave she slipped out of her kimono, removed her panties, bra, stockings and shoes and got into the bath. Dave was stunned; the nearest he’d got to a naked woman before had been the centrefold of some magazines passed round at school. But it wasn’t just that; it was the matter-of-fact way in which Mistress Joanne had stripped off, with no shyness, no reserve, no false modesty. It was as if she knew how beautiful she was, as if she knew how much Dave just wanted to bow down and worship, as if she knew that his worship was her right, her due.

“Stop gawping, there’s a sponge over there, get on with it.”

Dave realised that Mistress Joanne was expecting him to wash her. He took the sponge and the soap and set to work. Just as before he had been worshipping with his tongue, now he was to worship with the sponge. His natural instinct was to head straight for the groin or her breasts but he remembered what she had said about taking his time, about not charging in like a bull in a china shop. Anyway, he was supposed to be washing her and any erotic aspect was supposed to be accidental. With this in mind he lathered up the sponge and lifted her foot out of the water.

Mistress Joanne lay back and luxuriated in the hot water. Once again David was showing a sensitivity, an understanding, far beyond his years and experience. Counter to her expectations he was not rushing between her legs or pummelling her breasts, but he’d lifted her leg clear of the water and was tenderly washing her calves. As he refreshed the sponge he rested it on her knee making cascades of warm water ran down the inside of her thigh causing the most delicious tingles.

Dave was busy discovering just how erotic bathing a woman can be. Despite the fact that he was almost making a point of not concentrating on her breasts or groin he could tell that his ministrations were turning Mistress Joanne on. He did his best to make his actions tender and sensual, to let the sponge caress her skin, to make the bathing sumptuous rather than functional. To his surprise he found that washing her arms seemed particularly effective, judging by the sighs she was making; but again he made sure that he kept within moderation.

Mistress Joanne was loving every minute of it. Once again David was exceeding expectations. He was proving to be sensitive and caring. Most slaves, in her experience, had been totally fixated on their own pleasure and would have spent the entire bath groping her. David, on the other hand, was treating her like fine porcelain and the tender touch of the sponge against her skin was deeply thrilling and giving her an itch that demanded scratching. However, it was still early and she wanted to string this along as far as possible. Anyway the water was getting cold. Pushing Dave away she stood up and got out of the bath.

On Mistress Joanne’s instruction Dave fetched a towel from the heated rail and, starting at the shoulders, towelled her dry. As he worked his way down her body he was struck once more by how beautiful she was, her body firm and statuesque, and, when he was finished and kneeling at her feet, it seemed only natural to lean forward and kiss them. For a few moments Mistress Joanne indulged him before pushing him away.

“Look at the state of this bathroom. I want it spotless. And these clothes need hand washing. You’ll find what you need in the utility room next to the kitchen.” Mistress Joanne reached for a dressing gown which hung on the back of the bathroom door, slipped it on and left.

Dave knelt up and looked around the bathroom. There had inevitably been some splashing and the floor, as well as the bath, would need cleaning. And then there were the clothes to wash; he’d never done anything like that before, shoving his boxers in a washing machine was about his limit, but it looked like he was going to have to learn. He stood up and started on his chores. As he searched in the cupboard under the sink for cleaning materials he could feel the dildo filling his back passage, his prick and balls, so cruelly denied release, were crushed by the tight pouch and, ominously, he could feel a growing need to urinate. These discomforts, along with his nakedness, were a constant reinforcement of his status as Mistress Joanne’s slave; it wasn’t the tasks he was told to do, it was the way in which he had to do them. He wondered how long he was going to be kept like this and whether the next step would remove these discomforts. Somehow he expected the opposite.