The Interview

Foolishly, my provincial canniness had ensured that I didn't arrive at Head Office by taxi. I say 'foolishly' for I had become unkempt and a little tired by my long walk from Euston Station, and, as I stood at the foot of the broad marble steps leading up the the large and imposing foyer, I was ruefully aware of my cheap suit and the cut-price shoes which had seemed so 'a la mode' in my home town. Carrying my CV in an old Supermarket shopping bag did little for my image, too. For a moment I jealously the observed the assured and confident progress of a young 'executive' bounding up the steps before me, then, squaring my shoulders in resolution, I followed him through the revolving door into the building.

A large, sparsely furnished atrium lay before me. Tasteful furniture was scattered here and there, and a fountain bloomed in the centre, its plume reaching high into the air. Behind a vast desk sat a member of the Royal Corps of Commissionaires, no less; his medal ribbons subdued in the soft, neutral lighting.

Cursing the timidity which came upon me, I approached this imposing personage.

He had observed my coming dispassionately.

"Yes......Sir?" he asked.

"Er...I have an appointment for ten o'clock........with Ms Howard," I stammered.

His eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"With Ms Howard?" he repeated in stunned tones. "Do you have a letter confirming the appointment.......Sir ?"

I fumbled in an inside pocket of my jacket and produced the much perused letter I'd received with such astonishment and pride the week before. He took the creased document from me gingerly. Opening it, he read it slowly and carefully, unable to hide his growing amazement. I knew its contents by heart, of course. In my innocent excitement on attaining my IT qualification, I'd written letters applying to a good many 'top drawer' firms, confident that they would be only too anxious to employ my services as an IT technician. I'd soon become disillusioned; young, callow, just-qualified IT techs were not as highly sort after as I'd imagined, to put it mildly.

The letter inviting me to an interview at the mighty Interbank did much to restore my morale. Of its signatory, 'Ms Howard', I knew nothing then, but I was beginning to suspect that she was a far more important personage that I'd imagined.

He picked up a slim, ivory telephone that stood a little apart from the others instruments on the desk before him, and spoke into it softly. As he did so his eyes ranged my figure, as if he were describing me. Finally he replaced the instrument in its cradle, and, still with an air of incredulity, directed me to a small lift, discreetly placed in a corner.

"Press the UP button," he instructed me, "and you'll be met in the ante-room of Ms Howard's office suite. I'm told you be leaving by Ms Howard's private exit, so I shan't issue you with a Visitor's Pass."

Feeling upon my back his still faintly incredulous gaze, I went over to and entered the lift. With understated elegance, its control panel featured only two buttons. I pressed the one with the up-pointing arrow; obviously this lift was programmed for two destinations only.

Smoothly and silently I arrived at my destination. The door opened with a discreet whirr, and I stepped out into a large, smartly appointed office. The sole occupant was a motherly-looking, middle-aged lady sitting at a large desk, busily typing on a keyboard in front of her.

It was to she that I addressed myself.

"Er........excuse me," I began, "but I have an appointment with Ms Howard."

She raised her head from her work, and stared at me through half-moon spectacles.

"Yes, of course!" she said. " Mr --------, isn't it? May I have your letter of appointment?"

She took it from me, and put it into a bright scarlet filing envelope.

"Please take a seat," she said, "and you'll be called in presently."

I sat upon a low comfortable bench-seat, before which was a low table, its surface covered with up-to-date financial periodicals. These presented few attractions to me, so I occupied my self by removing my CV from its carrier and examining it anxiously for the umpteenth time.

To my horror I spotted at once a large grease mark upon the title page; as I tried vainly to make it less conspicuous several pages came loose and fluttered to the floor. As I was retrieving them, the middle-aged lady added to my confusion by informing me that "Ms Howard will see you now!"

Swallowing nervously, I approached the high, oak-carved double door she indicated to me.

Feeling incredibly gauche and clumsy, I managed, after a couple of false starts, to open the door and sidle into the room beyond.

I found myself in a large and elegantly appointed chamber. Its carpet seemed ankle deep, and the enormous desk at its far end miles off as I gingerly walked towards it. When I came to a halt in front of the deak, the seated figure behind it, whose attention had been fixed upon some document or other, raised her head and stared at me.

Neither then nor now could I describe Ms Howard: not even to myself, and certainly not to others. To look her in the eyes was to look at the sun, dazzling and blinding. I was aware only of a Woman; tall, dark, and imperious, and I broke eye contact immediately in confusion and fear. She rose to her feet, and came from behind the desk. She spoke to me, in a low, clear contralto voice which sent shivers through me.

"Give me your CV!"

Helplessly, I proffered it. She took it disdainfully in her beautifully manicured hands, and scanned it quickly, her mouth thinning in disgust. Finally she tossed it to the floor, several pages falling from it as it flew downwards.

"Pick it up!" she said, in a voice like iron.

Like a rabbit hypnotised by a snake I fell to my knees; on all fours I scrabbled frantically after the fallen papers under her pitiless eyes.

Then a surprising thing happened. I was peripherally aware of her lifting her right foot, and then I felt an agonizing pain in the back of my left hand as she lowered the slender heel of her chic right shoe upon it, and pressed downwards with considerable force.

In my agony I instinctively clutched her ankle with my right hand. She froze as if in shock. With a terrible anger she spoke.

"How DARE you touch me........ANIMAL!"

In angry disgust she withdrew her foot.

"Stay there!" she commanded me. Then, raising her voice a little, "Sonia!" she called out.

I was aware of a door opening and the appearance of another woman, of much the same size and colouring.

"Yes, Ma'am?" she enquired.

"Remove this rubbish and dispose of it, please! Bring me coffee; then leave us undisturbed for an hour."

The other nodded silently, picked up my painfully compiled CV, and left. Ms Howard walked over to a suite of comfortable armchairs surrounding an ornate, low brass table, and seated herself. I remained in place on the floor, still in a state of hypnosis, scarcely daring to nurse my throbbing left hand.

Sonia returned, bearing her Mistress's coffee on a silver salver. In silence she placed it on the low table, then withdrawing. Throughout her brief visit she ignored my presence entirely.

In fascination I watched her sip at her drink. Then, without even looking in my direction, "Boy! Come here!" She snapped, jabbing her finger downwards to the floor by her feet.

Helplessly I did so, crawling on all-fours to where she sat, my will paralysed by her powerful personality and her iron conviction that I would obey.

"Sit!" She ordered me.

As if by instinct I sat, not in the normal manner a human being might adopt when sitting on the floor, but in a semi-kneeling position with my legs folded beneath me, my buttocks resting upon my heels, and my hands flat on the floor in front of my knees. Momentarily I wondered at how natural this stance felt to me, then Ms Howard spoke:

"Good boy!" (Her voice was approving). "Now; some ground rules. Your name shall be 'Boy'. You will stay on all-fours unless I, or one of my slaves, give you permission to do otherwise. You will not, of course, talk at any time, unless we allow you to by uttering the code word 'Answer!' Do you understand me, Boy? Answer!"

And with that she poked me painfully in the ribs with the sharp toe of her left shoe.

"Yes, Mistress!" I replied humbly, some inner part of me amazed at the ease with which these words came to my tongue.

"See to it that you do!" She snapped. "And now, as I have a business meeting shortly, and I don't care to appear in dirty footwear, you will lick clean my shoes!"

She stretched out her feet, soles and uppers upmost, resting on their heels, upon the thick carpet. I remember that inwardly I was astonished both by my lack of of reaction to this outrageous command, and my unprotesting acceptance and obedience to it. Placing my fore-arms on either side of her left foot, I went down upon my elbows and began to lick her shoe, taking special care when my tongue approached the top lest my saliva contaminate her skin through her sheer stockings. I licked clean the sole too; her shoe was dusty rather than actually dirty - Ms Howard spent little time walking upon the plebian surfaces of roads and pavements; her shoes were more used to the plush carpets of her office, her car, and her mansion in the Home counties.

I repeated this exercise with her right shoe; then sat back upon my haunches as before.

"Good Boy! Clever Boy!" she exclaimed. "I was right; You ARE a quick learner!....Sonia?"

"Ma'am?" came the quick reply from the next room.

" I shall go to my luncheon meeting now. Take Boy with you, make him complete the tests we have prepared for him, then shut him in the closet until I want him."

Sonia's 'Very well, Ma'am!' came from close at hand, for she had entered the room immediately on receiving her Mistress's instructions.

"Boy! Go with Sonia."

Sonia, for her part, stabbed a finger downward to a spot by her side and a little behind; I scrambled over to her and accompanied her on all fours out of Ms Howard's office into the scarcely less spacious one of her Personal Assistant.

Though still elegantly furnished, and equally tastefully decorated, this room was far more obviously a place of business. Computers, printers, fax machines and various other electronic office equipment purred softly on work tables and desks. To use a nautical idiom, it seemed that if Ms Howard's room was a ship's Bridge; her P.A's was the Engine Room. Sonia took her seat, and peered over her desk at me where I crouched docilely on the floor.

"Boy!" she said sharply. "Go to that desk over there, and complete the forms you will find there. You may stand on your hind legs, and sit down in the desk-chair to do this. Bring them to me when you have finished."

I rose to my feet and did as she told me, some part of my mind marvelling at my instant obedience. It was as if Ms Howard's self-confident control over me had been transferred smoothly to her P.A. in some mysterious and unfathomable manner.

Be that as it may, a few seconds later found me seated at the designated desk, examining the small pile of documents before me. They were of the type familiar even to tyros as psychological tests: endless rows of seeming innocuous queries, each with its choice of boxes to be ticked in answer. I had already completed an inordinate number of them for the Human Resources Department of the very organization under whose roof I sat now, far more than I'd thought appropriate, in my innocence. I bent over my task, and in about thirty minutes, I carried the completed questionaires over to the waiting Sonia.

"Put them into that hopper," she instructed me, turning the monitor on the computer she'd indicated to me towards her.

The machine clicked and whirred, the papers slid one by one into its waiting maw and were discarded into a tray beneath it. The legend 'Scan Over' came up on the monitor, and a menu appeared.

"Click 'Integrate with previous results' then 'Display'," she told me. I did that, and the screen changed to display the message 'Compatability 98.883 %'. She regarded it for a moment, then, after turning the monitor back to its previous position, began to type smoothly and expertly on the keyboard before her, the lines of type appearing on its slim monitor as if by magic.

As I hadn't been told to do anything else, I stood patiently where I was, about four feet away and slightly to the rear of her right shoulder. Too far away to read what she was typing on the screen, I used the time to examine her surreptitiously.

I was once again struck by her resemblance to her Mistress, or as much of her Mistress's appearance as I'd dared to look at at. Both were tall and dark; both slender but athletic in build. But Sonia was to Ms Howard as the Moon is to the Sun; a pale shadow of the latter's personality Still, she commanded me in the same self-confident way as her Mistress; and I obeyed in the same unquestioning manner. She wore a severely-cut suit of light of light tan with shoes of matching hue. Around her neck, resting on the base of her throat, was her single personal adornment. A solid gold ring, a quarter-inch thick it revolved freely around her neck as she moved her head. I had just remarked idly to myself that there seemed to be no catch or other visible means of removing it, when a telephone on Sonia's desk uttered a discreet purr. She pressed a button on a pad, and a voice spoke through an intercom.

"Sonia?"

The voice was that of Ms Howard. The following conversation ensued.

"Ma'am?"

"I shall return at three o'clock. You may go for your lunch at whatever time you please. Has Boy completed those test papers?"

"Thank you, Ma'am. Indeed he has, Ma'am; and the results now stand at nearly 99 per cent!"

"Excellent news, Sonia! It seems our Human Resources Psychologists are almost as good as they keep telling me they are!"

"Perhaps, Ma'am. But I think a great deal is down to you, and your pre-selection processing," Sonia protested loyally.

Her Mistress chuckled affectionately "Thank you, Sonia; my dear! Anyway, the bottom line is that Boy will be suitable, I believe."

"I feel sure he will, Ma'am," replied the P.A. Then: "What shall I do with him until your return, Ma'am? Shall I feed him?"

"No, no!" came the casual reply. "Just give him some water; then put him in the closet."

With that Ms Howard rang off. Sonia turned at once to me.

"Boy! Down!" Then: "Sit!"

I dropped to all fours and, sitting in that strangely satisfying position I had adopted from the beginning, watched Sonia rummage through a cabinet and retrieve from it a large, shallow, metal dish. This she took into an adjoining room, from which I heard a brief sound of running water. She returned bearing the dish, which she placed carefully on her desk. Then, after taking up a newspaper and spreading it on the carpet before me, she put down the brimming dish in its centre.

"Drink!" she commanded; and I needed no urging, for at the sight of water I was suddenly aware of a raging thirst. I lowered myself onto my elbows, my forearms at either side of the dish, in the same manner as in I'd cleaned Ms Howard's shoes, and sucked and slurped up the water noisily, my rump protruding indecorously upwards as I drank.

As I drained the last drop, Sonia, who had been waiting with some impatience, made an abrupt gesture signalling me to follow. I walked on all-fours behind her through a side door and into a short corridor, which ended in another door. She took a key from her pocket, and opening this door, ushered me past her and into the space beyond. Closing and locking the door behind her, she left me to examine my new surroundings; I heard her faint, soft footsteps as she retreated.

Still on all-fours, I looked about me. The space must have been once a continuation of the corridor, for it was the same width - about four feet - and the same height. There was not much to see; a carpeted floor about six feet long, then a further four feet ending in a blank wall. This end of the narrow room was floored with white ceramic tiles, which continued up the walls to the ceiling. In the centre of the tiled floor was a hole about four inches across, a barred grid set three inches into its interior. Occasional faint noises, as though of rushing waters, came from it, along with a distinct smell of sewage.

I had just regained the carpeted section when, without warning, the light in its barred holder in the ceiling went off, leaving me in total darkness. With that odd philosophical acceptance of my condition which I'd noticed in myself since Ms Howards's first words to me, I laid myself down on the thick industrial floor covering. After only a few minutes of trying to get comfortable, I removed my shoes, and folded my jacket over them as a makeshift pillow, adding a little later my trousers to increase the height to a more comfortable height for my head.

It was quite warm in the tiny room, and almost completely silent, and I soon dropped off into a heavy sleep. I recalled later waking up with a bursting bladder, and groping around on all-fours until I located the hole in the tiled section over which I squatted to relieve myself, after which I fell into a much lighter half-doze, half trance.

A dazzling flood of light and the opening of the door brought me groggily awake, blinking upwards at the tall figure in the doorway.

"Boy!" (the voice was Sonia's) "Come!"

I began to scrabble together my discarded clothing. "Leave that!" she snapped, and led the way out along the short corridor and into her office. Pausing only to pick up a small package from her desk, she continued into the office of her Mistress with me meekly following on all-fours. Ms Howard herself awaited us, standing with one hip elegantly perched upon a corner of her desk. She regarded us lazily.

"Here he is, Ma'am!" Sonia announced.

"Has he been obedient?"

"Entirely, Ma'am"

The two tall, svelte women gazed down at me where I sat on the thick carpet before Ms Howard's desk. In my rumpled shirt and underwear, my hair sticking up wildly from my recent sleep, I knew I presented a ludicrous spectacle.

"Boy! Stand!" ordered Ms Howard, distaste in her voice. Then: "Take off those rags!"

Though this was the most outrageous ordeal she'd put me to, I obeyed mechanically and without protest or hesitation, my will totally under her control.

I stood naked before their dispassionate eyes. They examined me as though I was some breed of animal they were about to purchase. Ms Howard turned to her P.A.

"Well, Sonia?"

"A little scrawny, Ma'am!" answered her PA critically.

"He'll soon put on muscle with the regime I have planned for him!.......Have Boy's accessories arrived, dear?"

Sonia indicated the package she'd brought in from her office.

"Open it, dear; and let us see what we have for him," said her Mistress, taking up her place behind her desk, and pulling on her thin gloves as she spoke. To me: "Boy! Come here! Sit!"

I complied with alacrity, even remembering to drop to all-fours to do so, an action which earned me an absent pat on the head from her gloved hand. Sonia, meanwhile, had opened the package and spread its contents upon the desktop.

I sat there quietly, an odd mixture of feelings churning in my mind. Outrage at my treatment mingled with wonder at how quickly and easily Ms Howard had taken over my will since we first met; apprehension about possible future events fought with an inexplicable, deeply seated, sense of trust and security. I obeyed her instructions puppet-like as she and Sonia 'dressed' me, as they put it, in the articles they took from the package.

First, small padded leather mitts were pushed over my hand and secured at my wrists. Then, after Ms Howard had enquired of her PA whether the collar had been 'broken in' so that its newness would not chafe my neck and received the assurance that it had been worn by a dog for the last six months, her slim gloved fingers buckled it around my lowered neck. She ran a finger around between my skin and the smooth leather, and tested it for its ease of rotation around my neck Satisfied, she turned her attention to the remaining articles from the package.

"A leash, of course," I heard her say, "and a muzzle. A whip for if he's naughty...And, look! a sweet little bell for his collar! Do put it on him, Sonia dear!"

Sonia's slim cool fingers attached the bell to the 'D' ring on my collar, where it tinkled softly at my every movement while her Mistress deftly placed the leather muzzle over my nose and jaws, buckling it securely at the back of my head. All this done, she sat back and regarded me with satisfaction.

"Do walk him about for a while, dear," she said. "Let me see how he answers to his leash."

Sonia clipped the leash to my collar. Dazed and uncomprehending, I felt a gentle tug at my neck and came off my haunches onto all-fours. Amother gentle tug, and I was walking docilely at the PA's side, automatically taking up a position with my head slightly in front of her knee, the skirt of her business suit brushing occasionally against my shoulder as we went and the bight of my leash lying across my near shoulder and down my flank, the bell on my collar sounding softly to mark our progress.

She led me round the room a few times before halting before Ms Howard's desk where, unbidden, I sat back on my haunches by her side.

"Oh! Very good!" Ms Howard said, rising from her seat and coming around her desk to join us. "Give me his leash, dear!"

Taking it from her PA, she led me over to a corner hidden behind an elaborate Japanese screen. Pointing to it she said "This shall be your corner, Boy! You shall go here when ordered, and stay until wanted. Now," (and she unclipped my leash as she spoke) "Corner! Lie Down! Stay!"

I curled my self up on the floor and watched as she replaced the screen, obscuring my view of the rest of the room. Her conversation with her PA came clearly to my ears, though with many mysterious allusions which I did not fully understand until much later.

"We shall finish for the day shortly, dear. Tell Mrs. Marshall she may go home! Oh, and ask them to serve tea at four o'clock. For three."

"For three, Ma'am?" Sonia queried.

"Yes; I forgot to tell you. Charlotte is taking tea with me, and you shall join us. Ring down to Security and get them to admit her and Jeremy."

"Jeremy, Ma'am?" enquired her PA in confusion.

Her Mistress laughed merrily.

"Of course; you haven't met him yet - nor have I, for that matter! I'm told she bought him in Tangier a couple of months ago for a body-slave. She's very pleased with him; he helps her in her toilette to perfection, she says."

"A male body-slave, Ma'am?!" the scandalized Sonia asked in amazement. "She allows a MALE to attend her in her bedroom and at her bath?"

"Don't concern yourself, dear!" Ms Howard chuckled. "Jeremy's maleness is now - how shall I put it? - genetic only!"

"You mean?..........Oh; I see!" Sonia exclaimed in relief. "Was he like that when she bought him at the slave market?"

"No, dear. She had him gelded by Annette herself when she brought Jeremy back to this country."

"Annette would have enjoyed that!" laughed Sonia. "With her views on the male sex!"

"Yes indeed, dear. But she's not terribly happy with Charlotte taking a male slave - and a male body-slave at that! She's intent on bringing it up at the next Sisterhood meeting."

"And you yourself, Ma'am?" enquired Sonia anxiously of her Mistress. "You fear no sanctions against you because of Boy?"

A hint of steel was in Ms Howard's voice as she replied.

"No Sister, individually or collectively, will tell me what to do with my own property! But it may not come to that, dear. I do not intend to use Boy as my slave. Now come; let us complete these takeover documents in your office."

I heard them leave, and the door between the two offices close behind them. Curled up on the floor I felt entirely comfortable, not only bodily - for the carpet was soft and the room warm - but, amazingly, in my mind too. No matter that somewhere a faint voice was screaming in warning and outrage that I was in reality naked, collared, muzzled, and ordered into a corner like a dog, my over-whelming feeling was of contentment; of belief that this was my natural and normal condition, my real raison d'etre. I mused on Ms Howard, and how easily she had enslaved me. Was it her assertive femininity, her matter-of-fact iron conviction that I would obey her, that had demolished my will in those first few minutes? Or was something, up to now unsuspected, that had lain in my psychological make-up all my life and had seized the chance of responding to her powerful will? Whatever the reason, I found myself perfectly content with her total dominion over me; indeed I had become desirous of pleasing her above everything else. There and then, in my mind I began to refer to her as Her, and as my Mistress.

I must have fallen into a light doze, for I was brought fully awake by the sound of Sonia's soft footsteps crossing the room. She opened the door to the outer office admitting what I construed as two people; waiters, probably, for I heard her instruct them to lay the table in the 'Conversation Area' and thank them as they left. Immediately afterwards Ms Howard came in, and the two ladies took their seats at the tea-table where they conversed in low tones for a few minutes before my Mistress called me to Her.

I ran instantly to Her, and She instructed me to lie at Her feet where She put Her feet upon me with a sigh of relief. Her high, sharp, narrow heels dug painfully into my ribs as She shifted position. But occasionally I caught the faint scent of Her perfume, and that was reward enough.

Only a few minutes later there came a knock on the outer door. Sonia opened it to the two people who entered. One was a large, billowing lady 'of a certain age', expansive, out-going and wilful. The other was a young man about my own age; slender and slight of build, he wore a beautifully tailored suit in a subdued grey, and carried a battered leather attache case. The lady, after greeting Ms Howard effusively, took her seat with evident relief. The young man, her companion, stood respectfully by her side, his eyes lowered.

"So this is your slave?" asked my Mistress, eying him with curiousity.

"Yes, this is Jeremy," came the careless reply. "He can't understand us; and he can't talk - the stable has the vocal chords of all their slaves cut at early stage in their training. I have to use this simple sign language."

The lady turned to him and made a complicated gesture. Jeremy, with a total lack of any sign of selfconsciousness, at once began to disrobe before our eyes. He seemed to be wearing very little; under his thin suit, which he folded carefully, was only his shirt and socks. He wore in lieu of underwear only a short, white skirt, ending mid-thigh, and trimmed with gold thread. After placing his clothing in a corner, he removed from the attache case a pair of thin white sandals in the like colour scheme which he donned on the spot. Then he took out a gold trimmed, white collar and crossed to his mistress where he knelt, proffering the collar to her in his outstretched hands. She took it from him and buckled it around his neck, ordered him to stand, and regarded him proudly.

"Isn't he sweet?" she said dotingly.

At a sign from her, he rotated slowly in our view. Jeremy was, as I had seen, of below middle height, and of slender build. He had a mop of curly black hair, and smooth, light-olive skin; the latter marred only by a pattern of fading red welts across his upper back Ms Howard indicated these, and asked for an explanation.

"Oh!" said Her friend languidly. " I had to beat him the other night because he dropped my lipstick while putting on my make-up. My dear; it had carpet-fluff on it!.....But enough about my posessions; what about your..er.. slave?" And she pointed at me, lying under my Mistress's feet.

My Mistress dug me playfully in the small of the back with the toe of Her shoe.

"Oh! Boy isn't my slave!" She said lightly. "I haven't made up my mind what work to put him to. I may keep him as a pet; or I may use him as a draught animal on my estate. My house and yard slaves have to carry in from the forest every log we burn: I think it would be more efficient to get a cart for him to pull. And there will be other beast-work for him there. But please, dear; help yourself to the food. Pour the tea, Sonia; would you?"

"Annette will not be pleased when she finds out that another of us has taken male property," remarked Her friend, taking a sandwich. "Though she was pleased enough when I took Jeremy to her for his operation. She enjoyed doing it, I can tell you! My dear, I had to make an appointment, and sit in her waiting room along with all the other people with their pets! Dogs, cats, hamsters; a real menagerie!"

My Mistress chuckled at the image Her friend's words conjured up. Charlotte continued: "We had to wait AGES! But when we did get into her surgery, I was impressed. A Vet is almost like a doctor, dear; every thing was very clean, and Annette was quite gentle with poor Jeremy. I'm sure it didn't hurt him, and he's much better off without his nasty, dangling male bits; aren't you, dear?"

She ran her fingers through her slave's curly hair; he responded by nuzzling her hand with his lips. The three women then changed the subject to accounts of the doings of various friends and acquaintances. I tuned it out; my thoughts were only of food. I was very hungry, having not eaten since the previous evening, and the sight of them eating, dainty and insubstantial though their fare was, was enough to make my stomach clamour for my attention. Jeremy, I noticed, followed with his eyes every morsel his Mistress raised to her mouth; he too was hungry.

Their meal finished, the women sat back replete. Jeremy nuzzled his Mistress's hand, and whined softly for her attention.

"What is it, dear?" she asked, turning towards him.

In reply he pointed at his mouth, and made chewing motions.

"You poor boy!" she cried. She turned to Ms Howard. "The poor child's hungry; I forgot to feed him this morning in my rush!..May I, dear?" And she indicated the uneaten remains of their feast.

"Of course! Sonia will do that....Sonia!"

The PA collected the debris together on a large plate, and placed it before Charlotte. Jeremy eyed it hungrily, but his mistress hesitated, then spoke to Ms Howard.

"Should Boy have some,dear?"

My Mistress stirred lazily in Her chair, Her heels digging painfully into my flesh.

"Why not?" She said languidly. "Sonia!"

But before Her PA could obey, Charlotte broke in.

"Oh, don't trouble Sonia, dear! Jeremy shall feed him as he eats; half and half!"

My Mistress laughed. She took Her feet from me, and bade me sit. Indicating Charlotte, she ordered me to 'Go to the lady!' I trotted over to Her friend's chair and sat expectantly before her. She made a series of gestures to Jeremy, who finally nodded sulkily, then shot me a glance of pure hatred before sitting cross-legged on the floor. He stretched out an arm towards me, and pointed to a spot by his side. Wondering, I took up my new position. With deft fingers he removed my muzzle, and his Mistress put down the plate of left-over food before him.

"Now, Jeremy; be good, and let the dog have half!" she cautioned him.

He nodded sulkily again, then took up a sandwich crust and put it in his mouth. Chewing, he picked up another and offered it to me held fastidiously between his finger tips. I took it neatly in my lips and began to chew voraciously. He continued in this way, share and share alike, although I noticed he kept the choicest morsels to himself.

"Aren't they sweet!" cooed his mistress. "Jeremy usually shares his meals with my dear little doggy Foo-Foo, and they both have their little beds in my bedroom. They get on so well together, though they get jealous if they think I'm paying too much attention to one of them instead of the other!"

"Do you take him with you everywhere, Ma'am?" enquired Sonia.

"Everywhere I can, though I do have to leave him at home frequently, poor boy."

"How does he get on with your other slaves, Ma'am?"

"I'm afraid they bully him a little, particularly my Class Four slave. I keep him in a cage in her shed when I'm away, and I'm sure she doesn't look after him properly, for he's usually very dirty and hungry when I come back. But she does have a lot to do, and no spare time at all; and he IS only a male slave!"

"Yes," my Mistress said thoughtfully, "I can see that any male slave must rank below the lowest female Grade; and I expect that Annette and her faction will insist upon all males being kept caged or chained up when not under the direct supervision of females."

"If they agree to Sisters taking male slaves at all, my dear! Well, I don't care; I shall keep my Jeremy whatever they say!"

Jeremy meanwhile had emptied the plate; with unexpected generosity he placed it on the floor before me and watched as I licked up the crumbs remaining before replacing my muzzle. Then he and I sat quietly side by side through the ensuing spirited conversation; he cross-legged, I in the dog-like fashion I'd adopted so easily, my heels beneath my buttocks and my paws on the floor between my knees.

Finally his mistress seemed about to take her leave. Jeremy looked towards her and uttered a subdued gurgling sound.

"Oh dear!" said Charlotte. "May Jeremy visit the loo? And have a drink of water?"

"Of course, dear!" laughed my Mistress. "And he may take Boy too; it will save Sonia the trouble later! Where is Boy's leash, dear?"

"On your desk, Ma'am," replied Sonia, rising to get it.

"Please don't bother, dear! Jeremy shall fetch it!" said Charlotte.

Turning to her attentive slave, she made a series of gestures; after which he rose lithely to his feet and trotted over to Ms Howard's desk, to return with my leash in his hand. Again his mistress gestured; he nodded, then knelt to clip the leash to my collar. He rose and gave it a gentle tug.

Obediently, without resistance or resentment, I rose to my four feet and followed, automatically taking position close to his near leg so that the skin of his lower thigh occasionally brushed abainst my flank. Vaguely I wondered briefly about my easy acceptance of my condition: how had it become to seem so natural to me to be led, naked and on all fours, on a leash? Why was I obeying a gelded slave in so docile a fashion? But before I could pursue this line of thought further Jeremy had led me into the PA's office where he tied my leash to the handle of a substantial filing cabinet. I watched as he entered the narrow room where I'd been recently confined; there he squatted unconcernedly in full view over the hole in the tiled section of the floor to empty his bladder. He returned to me, and led me over to the hole to do likewise. He re-tethered me before opening a cabinet and taking from it a large bottle of mineral water. He drank copiously. His thirst satisfied, he stared down at me for a moment. Finally he shrugged his shoulders, retrieved an old newpaper from the waste-paper basket, and spread it on the floor before me. Removing my muzzle, he watered me from his cupped hand; a surprisingly efficient and neat operation. Replete, I turned my head away. He replaced the bottle, and picked up and discarded the newspaper. Then he led me back to our respective Mistress's.

Charlotte was on her feet, making her goodbyes to her hostess. Jeremy handed my leash to Sonia before hurriedly dressing and accompanying his mistress, still swearing her undying friendship, from the room.

"Well!" said my Mistress, with mock weariness. "Dear Charlotte can be so tiring!"

"But bold," replied Her PA thoughtfully, "taking on a male slave before the Sisters have given their permission!"

"Bah!" her mistress said carelessly. "Charlotte will come to no harm for it. She has no political ambitions in the Sisterhood - unlike me! But we shall see," She went on; "Now I have to think of a way of getting Boy home. I don't want him in the boot of the Rolls in case he fouls it on the way back."

"He seems housetrained," ventured Her PA uncertainly.

"Maybe he is!" rejoined Ms Howard. "But I wouldn't trust his training unlesss I'd trained him myself! Now.......how on earth are we to get him home?"

The two women stood deep in thought, with me sittting patiently on my leash by Sonia's side.

"Ah! I've an idea!" Sonia exclaimed.

"Do go on, dear!" said my Mistress eagerly.

"I'll ring Annette to ask if we can borrow her dog-van - she's bound to be finished with it by now. Then I'll ring home, and tell Veronica to tell Millie to take the Renault over to Annette's, pick up the van, and meet us here. Then she can take Boy home in the back of the dog-van."

"Dear Sonia; you are a genius! What time is it, anyway?"

"Five o'clock, Ma'am," replied Her flattered PA.

"Better make it for six, then. Millie can easily be here by then."

"Very good, Ma'am!"

Sonia passed my leash to her mistress and left us, presumably to make the arrangements. My Mistress stood for a little in thought; then, without ceremony, She turned and walked back to Her desk. I followed Her meekly around the enormous desk to where She pulled out Her luxurious 'Executive' chair from the large kneehole it had been pushed into. She let go of my leash and, unbidden, I walked into the large space below the desk and curled up on the floor. She sat, rolled Her chair forward on its castors, and placed Her feet upon my flank. I lay there in perfect contentment, listening to the rustle of the papers She was working on above me.

Comfortable and alert, I had leisure to consider the day's events. Was it only seven hours since I'd first met Ms Howard? In that short time She'd annhilated my will; She had succeeded, with casual ease, into making me into Her play-thing. So successful had She been that, even in so short time, I was not just her willing creature; there was no question of my will being engaged; I accepted Her treatment of me, and obeyed Her (and indeed all others, as recently with Jeremy) not because I wanted to, but because I could no longer even entertain the very notion of disobedience. And I didn't care! Ms Howard had become my Goddess; I idolized Her and trusted Her implicitly; though She had not demanded my adulation or my trust. She had simply, in Her iron self confidence, assumed it, and before Her steely certainty I was helpless.

My thoughts were broken into by the arrival of Sonia.

"Millie has arrived, Ma'am," she announced to her Mistress. "I've told her to reverse up to the door of the lift and have the van door open ready."

"Thank you, my dear," said Ms Howard in reply. "We may as well go now."

She picked up my leash and rose. Together the two left the office suite by way of a door from Sonia's room which led onto a sofly-lit, sumptuously-carpeted corridor. Our Mistress led the way; I at Her side, and Sonia bringing up the rear, to the end of the passage where the discreet door of a small lift stood invitingly open. We entered in the same order; there was not much room for three, and Sonia's skirt brushed continually against my muzzled face and shoulders during our descent as I sat in the corner by my Mistress's side.

The lift came to halt, and the door opened onto an indoor carpark. But this was no ordinary such construction; small and discreetly-lit, no oily concrete formed this floor, but soft composition tiles, clean and laid in pleasing patterns, lay under the two vehicles present.

My attention was fixed upon the van parked immediately in front of us; a small van of the Ford Escort variety, its rear doors stood open - as did the barred door of the cage in its dark interior.

Beside it, her head bowed respectfully, stood a small middle-aged woman, dressed in sombre, even dowdy, clothing. Ms Howard passed my leash to her.

"Put Boy in his cage, Millie," She instucted her, "and go. We'll follow and meet you at the 'Plough' where we'll all have a drink celebrating my new acquisition!"

"Thank you indeed, Ma'am!" exclaimed the small woman. To me she ordered "Boy! Cage!" and all three watched as I scrambled up into the van and into the small cage. Millie closed and bolted the cage door, then the rears doors of the van, leaving me in a darkness relieved only by what light the deeply-tinted rear windows allowed through.

I heard the driver's door open and close, and the engine start. The van drove off into the early spring evening, lurching and bumping over the road surface on its hard, load-carrying suspension. The cage I was in extended the full width, though not the full length, of the vehicle; it was about four feet long and five feet wide, its far side a sheet of steel plate sealing it off from the driver's cabin. The whole interior smelt strongly of dogs, and the only coverings on the steel floor were lengths of smelly, coarse sacking, damp with urine and worse. Miserably, I curled up on this, and tried to ignore my surroundings and wait in patience for the end of my journey. The thought came to my mind that only eight hours ago I had entered this building a fully-fledged and fully accepted human being; regarded and treated as such; now I was leaving it as an animal - in a cramped, smelly cage; naked and muzzled, collared and leashed. Where I being taken I did not know; my Owner had not, of course, seen any need to tell me. Nor did I know in what conditions I would stay there - except that I knew already that my Mistress had a deep contempt for my sex. As a male, I was an inferior animal to be kept in some cage or sty, or to be kept chained to some post or kennel to control my natural crassness and crudity. And I didn't care.

Continued as 'The Taming of Boy'.

I expect that I must have fallen asleep, for I was woken by the van lurching to a halt. Millie, its driver, left her seat. Slamming and locking the door behind her, I heard her footsteps ringing out on the hard surface as she walked away. I raised myself as much as the cage would allow to see out of the rear windows but was able to see little through the darkened glass, only the shadowy outlines of parked vehicles. Far to the left there were lights, warm and mellow in the darkness. It was cold in the cage, and I lay back down on the damp, smelly sacking. Recalling my Mistress's remark about stopping at a pub to celebrate I imagined Her sitting in the warm cozy interior with Her two slaves. As for me - well, I was only a dog, left outside in the cold darkness until they saw fit to return. I resented this not at all; it seemd by now perfectly natural to be treated like this, and I fell off into an uneasy doze until the sound of Millie's returning footsteps woke me.

How long I spent in my dark lurching, swaying steel prison I shall never know, but I was heartily glad when we came at last to a halt. When the doors of the van were opened I was dazzled by the light. The cage door was opened, and a bare, brawny hand seized my leash and dragged me out. I was made to descend from the van, an awkard task necessitating me turning around and getting down feet first, and I found myself on all-fours on hard-packed earth, icy cold under my knees. A hand was gripping my collar firmly, but my eyes had become adjusted to the light, and I could see that I was in a large open space surrounded by the darkened bulk of various buildings. I was aware of the tall, slender figures of my Mistress and Her PA a few feet from me, and I could see the dumpy shape of Her slave Millie nearby. All I could make out of the person holding my collar was a pair of bare and muscular legs shod in thick sandals.

My Mistress's voice rang out clearly in the cold air.

'Put him in with Sheba in her run, Bessie; he shall learn proper behaviour from her. Chain him too; he shall begin his training tomorrow. Millie, tell Cook I shall dine in thirty minutes!'

With that She walked off with Sonia, Millie bringing up the rear. My handler - whose name I had just learnt was Bessie - released her iron grip on my collar, but only to shift her hold low down on my leash, and it was thus that I was led out of the large yard and through an archway into a much smaller one.

This was much dimmer, lit only by a soft lamp above a wide wooden door at the head of three broad steps, and the flickering glow of an oil lamp seen through the tiny window of a small outhouse opposite. Half led, half dragged, I was taken into a tall shadowy barred enclosure smelling strongly of dog and across that up to a low opening in the stone wall. A low growl came from within as Bessie stooped to retrieve the end of a chain from the ground and clip it to my collar. 'Stay, Sheba!' she snapped. The growl stopped, and I heard the sound of a heavy body lie down on rustling straw. Bessie took off my leash and walked away, leaving me on all-fours staring after her as she closed and barred the door which was the only exit from the enclosure.

I stood still, shocked and indecisive for several seconds until the spell was broken by the noise of straw rustling and of deep, heavy breathing as something large roused itself from its bed beyond the dark opening and came forth. It was an enormous dog, and I stood paralysed in terror as it rammed its cold damp nose into my crotch and armpits. It sniffed me thoroughly all over before giving me a rough lick on my shoulder and walkng slowly a few feet away to lower its massive head into what I could dimly discern was lage plastic bowl. It lapped noisily for some seconds before lifting its head, shaking the excess water from its muzzle and retreating back whence it had come.

The prospect of a drink gripped me like a vice. I was suddenly aware of my terrible thirst, and I scrambled over to the bowl where I could see about an inch of water at the bottom. There was only one way to drink from it, and I did, lowering my head into it and lapping and sucking at the water until it was all gone. There was a another urgent need. I walked away, my chain scraping across the ground and urinated between my knees. Afterwards I walked back to the opening where I stood in hesitation. But it was cold, and I knew there was straw in there. I could hardly remain outside all night, so I summoned up my courage and entered timidly, ready to flee at the first sign of opposition from the dog. But it remained quiet, and in the end I curled up next to it, my head resting upon one of its massive haunches and fell asleep.

The dog woke me by rising to its feet and leaving the kennel, stepping daintily aroiund me despite its bulk. It was a grey dawn outside, and I saw the dog squat - for it was a bitch, I noticed at last - and urinate noisily before sitting by the bars of its run to look out into the yard in obvious expectation. My own bladder was full, and the withdrawal of the warmth of the the dog's body made it impossible for me to fall asleep again, so I followed its example. Avoiding the strong-smelling and still steaming pool it had left on the hard ground, I added my own a few feet away, the dog turning its head to watch with indifference.

I was able to examine the place where i was being kept. It was, as I'd seen, a barred enclosure with walls eight feet high. It was a full twenty feet long and twelve feet high and its hard-packed earthen floor was littered with the dog's large turds. I wondered what the dog was expecting, and would have gone to sit by it to share its warmth, but my chain was only six feet long; far too short to allow me to reach the bars. I looked up at the sky; if I was to be kept in the open air like this then the weather would be of prime importance to me as to any animal kept out of doors. The sky was an unbroken light grey, and the red glow of the rising sun was just visible. It was cold but windless, and the weather looked as if it would remain dry.

The dog gave an excited yelp. I turned to see a stocky figure approaching us on the other side of the bars. Clad in only a coarse sleeveless sacking garment, sandals, and a thick leather collar about her neck, this was evidently Bessie, the slave who had led me into here last night. She was carrying two buckets, and when she entered our cage the reason for the dog's excitement became apparent, for she walked over to the two large plastic dogbowls which held our food and water and poured the contents of her buckets into them before leaving our enclosure and bolting the door behind her.

Sheba had her head down, noisily snuffling away in the foodbowl. When I ventured to approach, she turned her heavy head and snarled at me menacingly. I bellied down in submission and watched her eat and drink, my empty stomach screaming at me for sustenance.

Finally she finished, after giving me a minatory glance, she trotted into the kennel and lat down to sleep off her meal. Humbly, I crawled over to the bowls to see what she had left for me. There was plenty of water, which was good for I was very thirsty. I drank deeply before turning my attention to the food bowl. It had obviously contained scraps of raw and cooked vegetables, and the remains of the dinners served to my Lady and her slaves the previous night, and a large tin of dogfood had been stirred into it. There had been bones it too, but those had been nibbled clean of meat, and most of the dogfood eaten by Sheba, and all the meat scraps with it. But she had left the raw vegetable scraps; potato peels, carrot scrapings, cabbage stalks and the like, and most of the cooked vegetables too, and I was able to fill my belly to repletion.

Having eaten all I could, I licked my lips and rubbed fragments of food from face with my forearms. it was still cold, though not as cold as earlier, and I followed the dog's example and went back into our kennel. There I found her lying on her side in sleep, her fore and hindlegs at right angles to her trunk, and I snuggled between them, my back up against her warm, furry belly. She snorted in her sleep and place a massive front leg over my neck, pinning me to her. Then we slept.

Sheba woke me in unceremonious fashion some time later, hauling her great body upright and trotting outside. Rolling onto my belly, I looked out of the kennel entrance. It was much warmer now that the sun had come out and after a few minutes I rose to all-fours and crawled from the kennel out into the sunlight. I sat at the end of my chain and looked out through the bars to see Bessie cross the yard and mount the broad steps to the big wooden door. It opened when she reached it and Millie passed out a tin plate and mug. Bessie took them and sat on the top step to eat, her back to the open door from which came delicious cooking smells.

I realized with a shock that it was still the early morning to the residents of the house and I wondered for a moment if my Mistress was even awake yet. Perhaps She was, perhaps a slave was even now running Her bath while another laid out the stylish garments she would wear afterwards. I bent my head and began to lick my upper arm; there would be no bath for me, and no clothing either, while instead of a dainty breakfast eaten from Wedgewood china with silver cutlery I'd already been fed on scraps and leftovers from a plastic bucket. I felt no resentment at this contrast, I'd almost forgotten that only twenty-four hours ago I'd been setting out for the interview that was to change my life forever as a human being, upright and clothed, and free to go where I wished. Now I was naked, crouched on my haunches in a dog's run, chained by my neck to the entrance to the kennel I shared with it, and this was perfectly right and proper.

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