TAKING THE FINAL STEP

By: Charles E. Campbell

This, while being completely a work of fiction, has been a favorite fantasy/plan of mine for a very long time. And maybe, just maybe, someday..............................

    “It’s here,” Morgan exclaimed, hardly able to contain her bubbling enthusiasm, “I have it right here in my hand!”

    “Calm down, Morgan,”  Susannah admonished her, instantly recognizing the effervescent excitement in her best friend’s voice.  “When did it arrive?”

   “Just now, silly. I just got it! It was hand delivered, FedEx.”

   “Did you open it,” Susannah queried, trepidation seeping into her tone?

   “Of course not, Suzie, I wouldn’t open your mail!” Morgan sounded somewhat put off by the insinuation, but she chalked it off to her friend’s nervousness. “But you’d better get over here right away or I will,” she threatened, trying to make light of it.

   “Let me call Andrew and get His permission. I’ll call you right back with His decision.”

   Hanging up the phone, Susannah took a deep breath as the weight of her newfound information settled in. It had started. He had sent the package, as He said He would. It was time to make up her mind once and for all. Taking a sip of her tea, she picked up the phone and dialed her husband’s office.

   “Mr. Markham’s office,” a voice answered cheerily, “Claudia speaking.”

    “Hi, Claudia, it’s Susannah, is Andrew around?”

   “Oh yes, Mrs. Markham, he’s in his office, the meeting hasn’t started yet. Let me see if I can get him for you.”

   Before Susannah could interject a word she was placed on hold, listening to some insipid string orchestra mauling the Rolling Stones classic, ‘Ruby Tuesday.’ “He still thinks He’s so hip with that drivel He calls music,” she thought, as she waited to see if He would deign to answer her call.

   As she waited, nervously jiggling her leg, Susannah wondered how many times she had told Claudia to call her by her first name. She hated the formality of being addressed as ‘Mrs. Markham’ by a woman at least twenty five years her senior. But it seemed that every time she tried to correct the woman, it always returned to ‘Mrs. Markham.’

   “What is it, Suz, I’m very busy,” He growled condescendingly, stopping her jiggling. “You know I hate it when you call Me at the office.”

    “I’m sorry, Andrew. Please forgive me. It’s just that Morgan called and wanted me to come over to look at some curtain samples for her living room,” she lied. “Would that be alright with You if I went?”

   “All right,” He acquiesced abruptly.  “Just see that you are home in time for My driver to pick you up at 7:00. I’m entertaining a client at the club. Make sure you wear that red dress with the thin straps and no back.”

   “Yes, of course, Andrew. I’ll be back in plenty of time to get ready. Thank,” click, ...........You,” she whispered after He had hung up on her. She depressed the button and called Morgan back, “He said I can come over,” she said as soon as Morgan picked up.

   “Well hurry up. I can’t stand the wait,” Morgan said.

   Susannah cleaned up the dishes from her breakfast and got dressed, she was always naked when in the house, it was one of His few rules that she followed that weren’t His usual vanilla trophy wife rules. She pulled on a pair of cut-off jeans, a tank top, and flip flop sandals, she owned absolutely no underwear. Walking out to the carport, she pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail, and put on her sunglasses.

   He had taken the Porsche to work, so she took the Range Rover. The drive to Morgan’s usually took twenty minutes or so, as it was a straight run from her place in New Westminister to Amy’s condo in Burnaby. She found a parking space in the lot, and walked to the stairs that took her to the second floor.

   Morgan had been watching her friend from the moment her car pulled into the parking lot, so as soon as Susannah neared the door, it popped open and Morgan grabbed her friend’s arm and said, “Get in here and take your clothes off this instant! You must be naked to open the letter!”

   Susannah stumbled a bit as she was pulled through the open door. Morgan stood back to watch and waited as her friend stripped naked before her. Morgan took the clothes and locked them in the hall closet. Only then did she say, “C’mon, hon, the letter’s in the kitchen,” and taking Susannah’s hand, she lead her into the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee was strong and reassuring.

   Morgan had already poured two cups of coffee, and placed them on the kitchen counter. Both women slid up on the bar stools and Susannah watched Morgan’s eyes drift down to the large mailing envelope that lay on the counter. When Susannah saw the envelope, she looked at it for a moment, then she raised her eyes and met Morgan’s, silently looking for her friend’s support. “You want to talk a bit and have coffee first, Suz?”

    “I.......don’t know, Morgan. All of a sudden I’m frightened. I mean,......it was all sort of a game before, you know? Not real. But now.........” Susannah was worrying a hangnail, causing it to bleed ever so slightly, something Amy’s keen eye did not miss.

   “Of course you’re frightened, nervous, apprehensive, scared, and every other thing you can think of. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, look where you are! You’re about to leave your husband, your home, all your possessions, your friends,” Morgan regretted the selfishness of the last example. Quickly trying to gloss it over, “But you’re going to live a new life. The life you were born to, The life you have yearned for and searched for, for as long as I’ve known you, and even longer than that.

   “You’d have to be crazy not to be frightened. But, it’s what you want, Suz. It’s what you need.”

   A palpable silence followed. Both women were thinking and weighing everything, but both of them had their eyes transfixed to the envelope.

   At long last, Susannah reached over and picked up the envelope, studying the handwriting as if for clues of some kind. She read and reread the return address, looked at each of the different postage stamps, and read the cancellation stamp for the origin of the letter. Then, wordlessly, she picked up her knife and slit the end open. Setting the knife down, she reached in and removed the contents of the envelope.

   On top was an airline ticket, first class, from Vancouver to New York Kennedy International. One way. For Tuesday, at 10:00AM.  Just five days away. Susannah slid the ticket over to Morgan for her to see, and then she looked at the plain, legal sized envelope with her name neatly penned on the front. She tried to cull some bit of insight from the handwriting, but knew that wasn’t going to happen. She glanced at her friend who gave an all but imperceptible nod, and then she opened the envelope, extracting the two page handwritten letter it contained. She read it as slowly as her pounding heart would permit:

   My Dearest Susannah,

   At last we are about to embark on a journey out of the world of cyber-relations and into the real world of a 24/7 Master/slave life. As you have no doubt seen, I have enclosed your plane ticket out of your own private hell, and to New York, where you will become Mine, in every conceivable manifestation of the word. I will accept nothing less. I shall not be contacting you anymore from this point further. I have changed My email address, so any attempts on your part to reach Me will be futile.

   I am sure that you are experiencing a whirlwind of tumultuous doubts and fears as you read this letter, and the significance of it sinks in. Again, as I have said to you many times before, the choice is yours to make, and yours alone. Should you decide to back out, I will know it when I do not see you get off the plane. And then that will be the end. I will not ever again contact you. But, if you choose to seek the life you have claimed to so desperately need, then this will be the last choice you will ever make. From the moment I see you at the airport, I will make every decision for you for the rest of your life. You will become My slave. A possession, chattel, nothing more. I will never love you. I will own you.

   You are to arrive in New York dressed as follows: a large baggy men’s white t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers with white socks. Wear your hair tied back in a ponytail. Of course you will not wear a bra or panties. You are to bring nothing else with you, except your photo id. No luggage, no carry on baggage. You may bring a shoulder bag with any personal items you would require, but that is all. You are leaving your former life to begin a new life in slavery, servitude and submission.  I have placed some traveling money in the back of the airline ticket for you to have with you on your trip. Use it as you see fit, I will ask for no accounting of it.

   As I said, the decision is yours.  I will wait at the airport until the last  passenger has debarked from the plane. Do you truly want all that you have so vehemently claimed? Are you prepared to take the final step?

                                                                                   Charles

   Susannah re-read the letter a second time before sliding it across the counter to Morgan. The silence was almost soothing as Amy read the letter. Neither woman spoke as Morgan lifted her head up to look her friend in the face. Finally, Morgan said, “This is it, Suz. This is for real.”

   “Yeah, I guess so,” Susannah replied. “But.....but what if it’s Andrew? What if He found out somehow. And He’s like, baiting me.”

   “There’s no way it’s him, Suz. No fucking way! He can’t see past his own ass to see what he has in you, and he won’t accept it, or give you what you want. Besides, he couldn’t possibly know about Charles. Hell, you never even let Charles talk to you on the phone for over three years. You just I.M.’d Him all that time, till we could set it up for Him to call you here.”

   “I guess you’re right, Morgan. I’m just scared. I mean, I know this is what I want, what I’ve needed for so long. It’s just......”

   “I know,” Morgan commiserated softly, as she got up to hug her naked friend. She could feel the soft sobs as Susannah wept gently against her warm chest. Morgan softly stroked her hair and held her tight fast. As the sobbing began to ebb, Morgan lifted Susannah’s face until their eyes met. Then she bent forward and kissed her on the lips, gently at first, and then more intensely and passionately  as Susannah began to respond. Morgan’s hand slid around and cupped Susannah’s B cup breast, softly pinching the rapidly hardening nipple. A soft moan escaped from Susannah as Morgan increased the pressure on the pebble sized bud.

   Abruptly, Morgan broke the embrace, and slowly took off her flimsy robe and let it fall gracefully off her shoulders into a puddle on the floor at her bare feet. She turned her back to her friend, and walked into the living room, where she lay down on the couch, lifting one leg up on the back and leaving the other on the floor, opening herself. Susannah knew her cue, as she followed in. Dropping to her knees, she quickly buried her face in the moist hairless pussy that beckoned her. Licking and sucking, nibbling and fingering, she had Morgan thrashing on the couch in a matter of seconds.

   Morgan had no intention of succumbing too quickly to the ministrations of her friend’s mouth, so she gently pushed down on the back of Susannah’s head. Susannah picked up immediately on what her friend meant, and slowly licked her way down the furrow and into the tightly puckered rosebud that lay scant millimeters away. Her tongue licked and probed the musky hole, relentlessly pushing deeper and deeper into the rear passage, as Morgan squirmed and moaned in the throes of pleasure. Morgan grabbed Susannah’s head and pulled it into her, trying to bury the tongue in her ass, and the nose in her pussy at the same time.

   Morgan was beside herself, awash in total absolute pleasure as she was paralyzed by the waves of the orgasm that ripped through her.  It took several seconds before the orgasm subsided, and Susannah kept her tongue buried and probing the entire time. There was no question as to whether Morgan would reciprocate on her friend, she never did. Taking pleasure was her turn on, and giving it was Susannah’s, a perfect mix.

   “Make yourself cum for me, bitch,” Morgan commanded. ‘I want to see you play with yourself for my enjoyment!”

   “Of course, My Lady,” Susannah replied. She lay down on the hardwood floor, and spread her legs wide, giving Morgan an unobstructed view as she parted her lips and started to rub the hardened clit. It was slick and saturated in her juices as her fingers stroked it. “May I cum for you, My Lady?”

   “No. Not yet, but keep diddling yourself like the slut you are. I’ll tell you when you may cum, and not before!”

   Susannah did as she was told, flicking the sensitive nub. With her left hand, she pushed two fingers into her sopping wet pussy and then two fingers into her ass. She was moaning loudly now, but Morgan just let her continue masturbating, intently watching her friend’s facial expressions as she was completely overcome with the pleasure.

   “You may cum, slut,” Morgan announced, and within seconds, Susannah’s body quaked in the thralls of a shattering orgasm.

   When it had ebbed, Morgan patted the couch, and waited while Susannah crawled up next to her to cuddle. They held each other for a while before Susannah announced, “I should be going. Andrew thinks we’re looking at curtain samples.”

   “Curtain samples? For Christ’s sake! That was the best you could come up with?”

   “Who cares? It worked.

   “Morgan?”

   “Yes, Suz.”

   “I’m going to do it. I’m......I’m going to go.”

    “I know you are, silly. There is no other way. But.......”

    “But what?”

    “I want to take you to Dominique’s  Saturday night. One last time. What do you think?”

    “Andrew has a standing poker date on Saturday nights, so I can probably get Him to let me do something with you. Maybe a movie or something equally innocuous. Call me tomorrow night, no, better still, Saturday morning, before He goes to the club for golf. I can ask Him then, while you’re still on the phone.”

   “Okay,”Morgan  agreed, as she got off the couch. They went back to the closet, where Morgan unlocked the door and gave Susannah her clothes back. Neither said a word as Susannah got dressed. They hugged, tighter and longer than usual, and Morgan said, “I’ll call you Saturday morning, around 7:30.”

   “That’s fine. Love you,” answered Susannah, as she opened the door and headed to her car.

    During the short drive home, Susannah’s mind was in high gear about what she was going to do, but  the first order of business was to hide the letter, plane ticket and money someplace safe from even the remotest possibility that Andrew might happen upon it. She decided that placing them in the bottom of her panty liner box was the safest.  As she bathed and prepped for the dinner she would attend with Andrew and His client she still had twinges of doubt about what she was planning to do. 

   Andrew’s driver pulled up at 6:55 and waited. Susannah knew he would neither come to the door, nor honk for her. Often times she wondered if he would wait all night. Grabbing her small handbag, she closed and locked the front door and headed down the bricked walk to the car. The driver saw her approach, and quickly got out of the car to open the door for her. “Good evening, Mrs. Markham,” he said formally.

   “Good evening to you as well, Harris. I’m sure it will be more fun for you than me.” Harris let that comment pass as he let all of her comments pass, silently wondering to himself what a beautiful rich queen like this one could possibly have to be unhappy about.

   The drive to the country club passed with light banter about Harris’ two children, his wife’s changing from being a fourth grade teacher to first grade, and the weather. They never spoke about anything deeper. When they reached the club, a valet opened the door for Susannah. “Good night Harris,” she said as she alighted from the car.

   “To you as well, Mrs. Markham,” came the staid reply. The valet offered Susannah his arm and lead her up the carpeted steps to the main entrance. The clubhouse was formerly a summer estate belonging to some timber baron from the late nineteenth century. Four stories tall, in English Tudor design. The main dining room could easily accommodate two hundred diners, and was often the scene of elaborate weddings and other grand soirees.

   Susannah strode over to the reception desk, which was manned by a tennis tanned blonde co-ed. “How may I help you, ma’am,” she asked as Susannah neared the desk?

   “Mr. Andrew Markham and guests?”

   The young girl looked down at some sort of log book and replied, “I believe they’re still in the bar.” She glanced at her slim wrist watch and added, “Their dinner reservation isn’t for another fifteen minutes yet. Let me get someone to escort you.”

   The receptionist glanced around and eyed another valet, who responded quickly to her gaze. When he reached the desk, she said, “Please escort Mrs. Markham to the bar, Thomas.”

   “Of course, Sharon,” he answered, offering his arm to Susannah.

    This formal escorting of females to the bar was a vestigial remnant of when the club was men only. No self respecting female would dream of entering a bar unescorted if she wanted her reputation to remain intact. Susannah found it a waste of time.

   As they approached the table where Andrew sat, He saw them near, and stood, formally, to accept and greet His wife. “Ah, My pet, you’re here at last. Let Me introduce you to My guests, Mr. Allen Chapman, and his wife, Amelia.”

   Mr. Chapman stood, and accepted Susannah’s extended hand, which he kissed and then said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Susannah. This is my wife Amelia.”

   Susannah reached across the table to shake the woman’s hand. She said nothing as they looked each other over. Susannah estimated the couple to be about seventy or so. Both of them were trim and fit. Mrs. Chapman had silver white hair and was extremely pale. A ribbon choker adorned her wrinkled neck, and a massive diamond broach was suspended from it. Susannah could both sense and see the daggers that flew from Amelia’s eyes in utter contempt of this trophy wife who sat opposite her. Andrew was, quite literally, old enough to be Susannah’s father.

   “So yes, Andrew,” Allen continued when they were all seated, “I think we should be able to come to some agreement tonight, at least in principle.”

    “That would be wonderful, Allen. We’ll discuss it further after the meal.”

   The rest of the evening’s conversation was boring drivel, and dominated by the men. Amelia made no attempt to disguise her blatant disdain for Susannah. After dinner, the two men retired to the library for brandy, and to work out whatever deal they were involved with. The library was off limits for women, so Susannah was left alone at the table with Amelia. 

   “And so, young lady,” Amelia began, “how long have you been married to Andrew?”

   “Six years.”

    “Allen and I have been married for forty-five years now. We were married right after I graduated from Smith,” she said icily. “I was a ‘61 you know.”

   Susannah hated being placed in these situations by Andrew, and it happened all the time. He no longer seemed the slightest bit interested in maintaining her condition as a slave, now she was His pretty young wife, just dragged out for “show and tell” to impress clients at the club. All she could do really was to pray that His meeting wouldn’t last too long, and that she could then escape the choking confines of this vanilla world.

   Amelia droned on incessantly for a good forty-five minutes, covering such banal topics as her bridge club, her charity work, her gardening club, and off course, her work with the cotillion and debutante ball. Susannah tried her best to appear somewhat interested, but she sensed that the elderly woman sensed her discomfort and prattled on intentionally.

   At long last, Andrew and His client returned, and after saying their goodbyes, the two couples parted ways. Andrew and Susannah drove home in His cobalt blue Porsche Carrera. He mostly spoke about the deal He had made and how much it would mean for His company. Susannah listened politely, realizing how far apart each of their needs were. He was bursting with enthusiasm over some financial deal, and she was bored to tears, wanting only to be enslaved.

   When they arrived home, he tossed His keys on the kitchen table, and grabbed her by the arms, spinning her around and bending her over the butcher block in the middle of the floor. With one hand He pinned her to the block, while He undid His trousers with the other, freeing His hard cock from it’s confines. Lifting the red dress up and over her head, He slid His cock up and down her crack, teasing her as to which entrance He would use tonight. “Have you a preference, My dear,” He asked mockingly?

   “Please use me as You see fit, Master,” she answered mechanically. He continued toying with her, until deciding to take her pussy. He drove Himself to the hilt with the first thrust, causing a sharp gasp to spill from her lips. He pounded into her hard and fast, seeking only to jerk off inside her. When He was done, He straightened His slacks and said, “I have a bit of work to do, why don’t you head up to bed.” With a peck on the cheek, He headed down the hall to His office, leaving her in her rumpled dress, semen seeping down the inside of her thighs.

   The next day, Susannah got a call from His secretary, Claudia, informing her that He would not be home for dinner, that He had to meet a client before going to meet His friends at the club. This was fine with her, as she needed time to sort out how she could arrange her escape on Tuesday. After careful thought, she decided that the best ruse would be to say she had an appointment with her “female” doctor.  She would need to be at the airport by 8:00, so she could say she was heading to the gym early, before the doctor, and that would give her a long enough window.

    Saturday morning dawned bright, sunny and beautiful, so He was exuberant at the prospect of His golf outing. As they ate breakfast, the phone rang. It was Morgan, looking to see if they could get together tonight. Susannah didn’t cover the phone as she asked Him if she could go to a movie with Morgan that night. He begrudgingly acquiesced, but stipulated that she must be home by midnight.

    An hour after He had left for golf, Morgan called her friend back. “I want to take you to Dominique’s  tonight for one last time, Suz,” she told her. “I’ll drive, okay?”

   “That’s fine, Morgan. I’m looking forward to it.”

    “Since we only have until midnight, I’ll pick you up at 7:30, alright?”

    “Sure. That’d be great.”

    “Oh, and Suz?”

     “Yes?”

     “Naked. Only heels. Is that clear?”

     “Y....yes, My Lady,” she stammered, as Morgan hung up.

     They had often spoken about going to Dominique’s  naked from door to door, but it had always been just talk. Susannah never really thought Morgan would truly want to actually do it. Now, it seemed, they were going to.

    The remainder of the day went by quickly for Susannah as she went through all of her things and personal items: high school yearbooks, family photos, mementos of people, places and things that had been her life to date. It sorrowed her to know she would have to leave everything behind. Some things, of course, really didn’t matter to her, but, the pictures of her deceased sister, her college degree, the locket and chain her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday, these were all things that pained her to abandon.

   At 6:00, she ate a light dinner, and prepared herself as Morgan liked he. After a long relaxing soaking in the tub, she applied mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, and a dark eyebrow pencil. She followed this by combing out her long straight blond hair and letting it fall naturally over her shoulders, almost to her breasts. . Next she used her darkest red lipstick and throughly coated her full lips. She applied a dark rouge to her areolas, making them stand out against her pale white skin. Perfume and deodorant were not permitted. Morgan liked the smell of her sweat and arousal combined. At 6:20, she donned her black patent leather four each heels that buckled across the tops of her ankles. A look in the mirror made her feel better. Excepting for the long walk down the front path from the house to the circular drive where Morgan would have her car waiting. It was still fairly light out, and anyone looking from the street or sidewalk would surely see her.

    Susannah saw the headlights bounce as Morgan pulled her car into the drive. It was just light enough out for her to see that her friend had come in her eye catching  pearl white 1955 Thunderbird convertible. And of course, she had the top down. The car was flawless, having recently  undergone a total ground up restoration lovingly and painstakingly done by her long time live in, Mark.  Morgan and Mark had been together for over eight years, never married, but their bond was far more solid than any ring or licence could ever be                                                                       

    A gentle man, Mark was short by most standards, barley reaching five foot seven . A dense tangle of dark auburn hair fell to his shoulders, and his short neatly trimmed beard, was just now  flaking with gray,  Tattoos covered virtually every inch of his skinny body. Mark was a switch. Usually  the top, but  sometimes he relished being the bottom. Although he never bottomed for Morgan, she was always present when he was for someone she knew.

   Susannah took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then, closing the front door behind her, she strode out to Morgan and the waiting car. The cooling night air made her nipples harden and goose bumps broke out on her arms and legs.  As she approached the car, Morgan motion for her to stop a few feet from the car. Susannah immediately knelt on the asphalt drive.

    Morgan got out of the car. She was stunningly dressed in black leather. A tight bodice lifted her breasts, exposing just a hint of her pancake sized areolas. Her bare midriff was broken by her tight mini skirt, that hardly covered  her crotch. A  garter belt held up her stockings, with only the tops  visible above her thigh high stiletto toed boots.  A cat ‘o’ nine tails hung. from her belt. Without saying a word, she opened the trunk, pulling out a black duffel. She placed the duffel alongside Susannah’s feet and unzipped it. She pulled out a pair of leg irons, and with an old set of locks, she locked them just above the ankles. She repeated the procedure with a set of wrist shackles. Then she locked a steel collar that fit snugly around Susannah’s neck. Using various lengths of old chain, she hobbled her slave, and ran a length from the hobble to the collar, where she fastened the wrists, in a position not unlike prayer.

   Morgan put the duffle back into the trunk and opened the door for Susannah. She watched as her slave struggled to get into the low seat. When she was settled in, Morgan got back into the car, and headed down the drive. “M....Morgan,” Susannah whispered, “I’m cold. Could we put the top up, please”

   “Cut the shit, Suz. You’re not cold. You’ve got cold feet maybe, but that’s all. We’ve talked about this for a long time, and tonight we’re gonna do it. Naked, all the way to Dominique’s and naked all the way back. Now, not another word, or I’ll turn the stereo up real loud and get more eyes looking.”

    Morgan intentionally drove through the busiest sections of Vancouver as she headed for the Highway 1 route over the Burrard Inlet. The sun had set as they crossed the water so Morgan felt a lot less conspicuous being naked in the car.  Staying on 1, she took it west into West Vancouver and down to Marine Drive. Morgan ran a stop sign that brought the attention of a local patrol car. The flashing lights from the car panicked Susannah, “Oh my God, Morgan! What are we gonna do?”

   As she pulled over to the shoulder and stopped, Morgan said, “I’ll take care of it, Suz. Just do as I say.”

   They waited a few minutes before the patrolman stepped from the car. Susannah felt a knot building in the pit of her stomach, and she felt beads of perspiration sliding down from her armpits. But, she also noted that her crotch was soaking wet as well. He walked over to the driver’s side and his jaw dropped when he saw the naked and shackled woman sitting in the front seat. “What’s going on,” he demanded, his right hand resting on his side arm.

   “My friend and I are going to Dominique’s for the evening, and I wanted her to travel as she should be, officer.”

    “Is that true, miss,” he asked Susannah, eying her nakedness?

   “Y....yes sir, officer. I.....I’m hers. An....and this is what she wishes from me.”

    “You willingly participating in this,” he asked in total disbelief?

   “Yes Sir.”

    “Let me see your licence and registration,” he said to Morgan. She handed it to him and he glanced through the information. “I stopped you because you ran that stop sign back there. I’m going to have to cite you for that as well as for lewdness and public nudity,” he added, never taking his eyes from the naked woman before him.

    “Please officer,” Susannah pleaded. “Isn’t there anything we could do to avoid the ticket and fines? Please?”

   The policeman looked from Susannah to Morgan a few times, letting his eyes linger on the chained and naked slave. “We may be able to work something out,” he offered.

   “What ever you would like, Sir,” Morgan  countered. “Slave, get out of the car!”

   Morgan leaned over and opened the door. Struggling with the shackles and chains, Susannah got out of the car and got on her knees in the gravel. The road was quiet, virtually no traffic had passed them since they stopped. The patrolman walked around to the passenger side of the car and stood in front of Susannah. She looked up into his eyes and nodded assent, and watched his face as he unzipped his pants. She took him in her mouth the instant he was free, and began sucking and licking him. Unable to use her shackled hands, she moved her head forward and back as she swirled her tongue around his stiff cock. Sucking harder and bobbing as fast as she could, he came in under two minutes. Susannah swallowed it all, and sat back as he zipped himself up.

   The policeman held the door open as Susannah got back in the car. “Thank you, officer,” Susannah said as he headed back to his patrol car, tearing up the ticket he had started to write. Morgan didn’t bother to wait for him to go first. She started up her car and headed out Marine Drive.

   Dominique’s is a small establishment, and if you didn’t know it’s exact location, you would never find it. It is in an old renovated two story red brick factory about two hundreds yards down a sand and dirt road, replete with weeds and loose rocks. The bottom floor has an upscale restaurant which seats about thirty to forty people tops. Dominique and her Head Chef Maurice are both of the mind set that meals shouldn’t be rushed, so reservations are an absolute must.

   Dominique and her late husband Harold opened the restaurant in the late forties, not long after the war. Life partners, never married, long participants in the world of Dominance and slavery. She the Dom, and he, Her slave. When they started to discover like-minded people in the late fifties, they converted the upstairs space into a well equipped dungeon, called, “The Crop & Cane.”  The Crop & Cane, or C ‘n’ C, is open to the public, but only members and their guests are allowed to play. No drugs or alcohol of any kind is ever allowed. Anything between players is permitted. Anyone intending to go upstairs is formally greeted by Dominique herself, a striking figure yet today. At least eighty, although she won’t tell and no one will ask, she always looks stunning in dresses and gowns that she is famous for. Her long hair has long since gone silver, and her manicured and polished nails highlight the tips of her soft leathery skin. The passion in her deep blue eyes is immediately evident to anyone who meets her.

    A valet met Morgan and her slave as they pulled in front of the C ‘n’ C, and he opened the door for Morgan and helped her from the car. He then went around to assist the chained slave in getting out as well.  The valet took a leash from a rack and clipped it onto Susannah’s collar, and held out the leather handle for Morgan to take. She took the leash, and thanking him, lead her slave up the short steps top the front door of the C ‘n’ C, where another valet opened the door for them.

   They had been there a few times, so Susannah knew what was expected of her. A strict house rule was that slaves could never stand, unless it was to be tied or bound, and then, only at the discretion of their owner. Susannah immediately fell to her knees, and inched along behind Morgan, the clanking of her chains drawing attention to her entrance. She was fearful that she might tumble forward on to her face in her attempts to keep up with Morgan.  There were only a few people present, as it was early for a Saturday at Dominique’s, but all eyes were on the naked slave who walked on her knees across the stone floor. Susannah’s head was down, of course, so she wasn’t able to see who was there, but Morgan spied an old friend right away and walked in His direction.

   Morgan and her friend chatted amicably while Susannah bent over and  quietly licked on her boots.  Morgan’s hand softly stroked her slaves head as she talked. The soft gentle caresses calmed Susannah as she waited her Mistress’s commands. “Greet My friend, slave,” she commanded. Susannah slid over and began kissing the tasseled loafers on his feet.

   A few minutes later, a couple got up on stage. He was a tall thin black, shaved head, steel bands around his biceps, naked from the waist up, showing off his well defined and sculpted body. She was a pencil thin anorexic bottle blond white girl, naked from head to foot, about twenty.. Her breasts were extremely small, almost pre-pubescent, and were flat and deflated looking. . She was naked, and she bore a deep brand of the letter M on her mons.  He made her face the audience, then He left her on the stage.

   A stunning woman approached the stage with a matching pair of twin slaves in tow on leashes. The woman was in her mid fifties or so, and she was dressed in a dark wine red suede outfit. Her top was a button less jeans style jacket, which hung open, exposing the sides of her small but firm breasts. Her pants were jeans cut as well, and hugged her trim legs and ass. On her feet she wore matching red cowboy boots trimmed with sterling silver spurs. Her skin was a milky white, as if she had never been out in the sun. Her long straight jet black hair flowed gracefully to her waist. Here and there streaks of white shot through it.

   The two slaves looked as if they were clones of each other. Long blond hair hanging below the shoulders, studded leather collars snugly adorned their necks. Both of them wore form fitting push up bras, garter belts, and skimpy thong underwear, with black back seamed stockings. The slave on the right wore white, while her bookend counterpart wore black. Steel wrist and ankle cuffs were locked on each of them, and a small dainty thin chain wrapped around their waists.

   Without a command, both slave knelt at the woman’s feet, and faced the audience, next to the other slave, and waited her instructions.  After a few minutes, She unclipped the two leashes ad returned to Her seat, leaving them on the stage on their knees. There was no sound to be heard from the audience as everyone watching waited in anticipation for what was to follow. Finally, at long last, the woman commanded, “Strip yourselves!”

   They immediately sprang to their feet, and in a well rehearsed and choreographed fluid motion, they began removing their clothing in unison. First to go were the bras, revealing smallish breasts, heavily rouged nipples, and large hoops piercing the nipples. Their sandals were unbuckled and then the stockings and garter belts fell to the floor. They stepped out of their thongs, the slave on the left showing a smooth hairless mound, while the slave on the right showed a smooth hairless mound and a long thin flaccid cock, with a Prince Alpert piercing with a thick ring that was clipped to the waist chain, stretching the skinny meat taut against the lower belly.

   All eyes were on the shemale, but not because of the unexpected cock, it was because she was so beautiful, and because she was, other than the cock, virtually undistinguishable from the female slave.

   The two slaves resumed their positions kneeling on the stage, waiting further instructions. Iut was at that moment that Morgan sent Susannah to the stage to join the three slaves. Without standing, Susannah crawled to the stage and knelt to the far right. Her head bowed. Wetness building in her shaven slit.

   The four slaves remained under the harsh unforgiving lights on the stage for a good ten minutes before  the owner of the skinny slave stood up and announced, “My slave is available for anything you may wish. No restrictions whatsoever. In fact, the harsher, the more she’ll like it.”

   The Owner of the twin slaves stood next and declared, “Sheena and Sheila are my slaves, and they are, as you can all plainly see, twins. Sheila has had some changes made, obviously. They are both  are available for all to enjoy. I only ask that you do not mark them on their faces. Anything else you may wish is acceptable to Me.”

   Morgan seemed to take her cue from that announcement, as she stood and said, “My slave may be used in any manner you see fit. I only ask that she is not to be marked.”

   It was a few minutes before two women walked over to the stage. One had short hair, and the other was bald. They both were dressed in black leather chaps, bikini panties, high heeled boots, and matching black leather bras. A crop dangled menacingly from the belt of one, and a cat from the belt of the other. They stood with their backs to the audience and faced the four kneeling slaves.  The woman nearest the shemale reached out and grabbed her by the hair, very close to the scalp, yanking the slave suddenly to her feet. Her partner grabbed Susannah in the same fashion and pushed he face into the flaccid cock, while the first woman unclipped the Prince Alpert hoop from the waist chain, allowing the soft thin cock to droop down freely. Instinctively, Susannah opened her mouth and drew the dick in, sucking and swirling her tongue all around it, startled at it’s continued softness. As she was doing this, she felt her hands being cuffed behind her back, and one of the Domme’s pushed her head forward into the Sheila’s groin. The twin slave was then positioned behind Susannah and ordered to rim her puckered butt hole. The skinny slave was made to lie down under the slave whose face was buried in Susannah’s cheeks and lick the hairless slit that gaped over her face. One of the dom’s roughly inserted two large dry vibrator’s into the skinny slave’s ass and cunt, and turned them on high. “The first slave to cum will be hung by the wrists for the duration of the evening,” the short haired Domme decreed.

   Susannah took that as an open invitation and began to suck even harder and more furiously, bobbing her head in an attempt to get Sheila to cum. The slave whose tongue was probing Susannah’s ass redoubled her efforts as well, as the drone of the pulsing vibrators could be heard over the slurping and sucking sounds.

   Panic began to build in Susannah’s mind as she was employing every trick she knew, but the shemale’s penis remained as soft as when she began. Unbeknownst to the slave, the dosages of estrogen that had been injected into “her” had all but rendered the pitiful male organ useless and unable to get hard, a side effect her owner was quite pleased with. Susannah could feel her own orgasm beginning to build as the tongue darted in and out of her saliva soaked asshole. She could hear the moans coming from the skinny slave as the pulsing vibrators attacked both her openings at once.

   Susannah kept at it, sucking and licking, nibbling and biting, and pushing her head back and forth, when suddenly, she was rewarded with a small dollop of cum that shot into her mouth.  Sheila hadn’t moaned or given any indication that she had cum in her mini orgasm, and Susannah realized that only the two of them were cognizant of the occurrence as to who had cum first. Susannah pulled her head off the drooping dick and turned to face the bald Domme, mumbling, “Look,” as she opened her mouth ands dribbled some of the cum out and onto her lips to prove what had happened.

   “Stop, all of you,” the Domme ordered, “The tranny has spilled her seed, and thereby loses the contest!”

   The short haired Domme grabbed Sheila by the hair and dragged her to the center of the stage.

   “You,” she said to Susannah, “swallow that gift, then chain her to the bar. You help her,” she added to the skinny slave, kicking her in the ribs to get her up. “But clean off those toys first.”

   The skinny slave pulled one vibrator, then the other out, and licked and sucked them clean, as the all too familiar drone of a winch lowered the spreader bar, and sent a shiver down each slave’s spines. Looking up, Susannah fixated on the slowly lowering iron bar, with steel manacles hanging from short chains on the ends of the bar. When the winch stopped it’s slow descent, the Bald Domme nodded, and Susannah and the skinny slave locked the manacles around Sheila’s  wrists.

   Resigned to her fate, the tranny lifted her arms up to the bar, making the task of shackling her easier. When the manacles were tightly locked on her delicate wrists, the winch began to rise, pulling her up to her tip toes, and finally off the ground completely, with her feet six inches from the stage floor. She felt the straining ache beginning to build in her shoulders the instant her feet left the floor, and she knew it was going to be a long a very uncomfortable night.

    Just before the winch stopped, Sheila’s  Owner shouted out from the audience, “Stop the winch!”

   Walking to the stage, She added, “Lower this slut back down please.” The winch reversed direction and the slave’s feet began to make contact with the floor once again. When she was flat-footed on the stage, her Owner said, “That’s fine.” She turned to her shackled slave and said, “I am very disappointed in your lack of ability to control yourself for Me. I never gave you permission to cum, and yet you allowed this whore to get you off!

   “Hand Me that chain,” She said to Her female slave, pointing to a length of chain on the side of the stage. The slave placed the chain in her Mistress’s open hand. All eyes were upon her as she clipped the end of the chain into the ring in the end of the tranny’s penis. Then She bent over and clipped the other end of the chain to an eye bolt in the floor.

   Standing back up She said, “This should help you to learn how to concentrate, cunt!”

   Once again, the winch started up, pulling the bar towards the high ceiling, and the shemale was on her tip toes. Everyone watched as the slack was taken out of the chain, and the tension pulled the thin member down. The Mistress did not order the winch to stop until the slave was off the ground and was crying freely as the ring in her penis was stretching the hole almost to the point of ripping it out.

   The Mistress grabbed the scrotum of Her slave, and dug He sharp talon like nails into the hairless sack. She said, “I want you to remember this the next time you let this pathetic useless little dick control your mind. The next time you lose control, I just might rip it off with My nails and feed it to you as you bleed!” She gave one final squeeze to her scrotum and let it go. Small droplets of blood sprouted immediately from where her vicious nails had dug into the tender flesh.

   Squaring off to face Susannah, the Domme said, “Now let’s all see what you’re made of, cunt. Make My slave cum without My express permission, after all the training I’ve given her? You must really have some mouth!”

   Susannah felt her pulse rise as fear gripped her. The Domme’s eyes glared at her as She spoke, burning right through the petrified slave. “I propose a little entertainment to see what you’re really capable of.”

   As She turned to the audience, She said, “I would like to propose that we all see what this little bitch can take. I’m going to strap her into the swing, so that her mouth, ass and cunt are readily available. I would like to invite anyone who wishes, to use her in anyway you see fit. I want to see cum dripping from every hole in her fucking body! I want pussy juice covering her face!”

   With the help of Sheena, and the skinny slave, they bound Susannah on her back into a leather swing. Her head was pulled back by her hair and tied securely, her legs were spread wide open and strapped up high out of the way, leaving both her pussy and ass easily accessible. When they had her strapped in tight, the Domme made Sheena straddle her face and barked, “Eat her!” Susannah started to lap at the hairless slit. “Volunteers, please,” She asked?

   Quickly, three men came up on stage. The first man dropped his pants and plunged his already erect cock into the openly inviting pussy, eliciting an audible gasp from Susannah, who couldn’t see him with her face buried in Sheena’s crotch. He drove into her hard and fast, making the swing sway back and forth. He timed his thrusts with the rhythm of the swing, maximizing his pleasure, and minimizing his efforts. When he spent himself in her, the next man entered her and ravaged the cum filled hole. Susannah kept her tongue working, licking and nibbling the delicate flesh, until she heard Sheena ask, “May I cum for You, my Lady?”

   “Yes, slave, you may.”

   Violent shudders took over her as she let herself succumb to the waves of pleasure that emanated from her very core. She climbed off, and was replaced right away by a black man with a penis of average length, but exceptional girth. He stood still, allowing the swaying motion of the swing caused by the fucking, to introduce himself into her willing mouth. Susannah had to strain to get her mouth open wide enough to take this thick meaty tool. She had no problem at all with the length, she had many a cock all the way down her throat, but her jaws were already aching from the strain of holding her mouth wide open, and her teeth away from the tender skin.

   While Susannah was being used, the Domme handed a crop to Sheena and the skinny slave and ordered them to beat Sheila on the belly and breasts.  She admonished them both that if they held back at all, they would take her place in suspension, and She would beat them until they were unconscious.

    Susannah was quickly overwhelmed by the number of men and women who seemed to appear out of no where to use her. The club wasn’t so crowded when she had first come in. A constant stream of men fucked her mouth and ass, with several plunging into her now gapping ass. In between, women would push their pussies into her face waiting for her probing tongue. It seemed that as fast as one would cum, they would be replaced by another. She never even tried to count as the relentless assault seemed eternal. All the while, she was serenaded by the  sounds of the whips on the hanging slave, who was, by now, long past crying, having been reduced to incoherent babbling. The ring in her penis had been ripped out from her twisting and jerking in response to the lashes. The twin slave was wailing uncontrollably as she witnessed her sibling’s fate, but she never eased up[ on the strength of her strokes with the whip.

    Then, quite out of the blue, Susannah was aware that no one was fucking her any longer. The sounds of the whips had stopped, and only the sound of the female twin could be heard. Morgan came up on the stage and undid the straps that held Her slave in the sling. When she was free of her fetters, Morgan helped her slowly to her feet. Susannah could feel the cum begin to seep from her ass and cunt as soon as she stood up. A slight pressure from Morgan’s hand on her shoulder told her to get back down on her hands and knees. The leash was re-attached to her collar and she was lead out of the club to the sound of applause from the gathering. A valet had brought the car to the door, and had placed a waterproof pad on the seat to prevent the oozing cum from staining it. Still naked, the taste of cum lingering in her mouth, they drove off together, in silence.

     Neither girl wanted to the night to end, as they both knew it would be the last time they would ever be together. Morgan pulled her car up the drive to Susannah’s house, stopped in front, but didn’t kill the engine. “I love you Suz. If this doesn’t work out, I want you to know you can come back here and live with Mark and me.”

    Susannah turned to her friend and looked into her eyes. Shedding a tear, and cracking a smile, she leaned over and kissed Morgan on the cheek, saying, “I know I can.” And then she jumped out of the car and bounded into the house.

   Needless to say, Susannah slept very little on her last night in Andrew’s bed. She tried very hard to lie still and not disturb his sleep, but it was difficult to not toss and turn futilely in search of a comfortable position. His alarm startled her, as he got out of the bed and went to his exercise equipment and his daily routine. Stairs first, stationary bike, rowing machine, and then free weights. A quick shower and he was out the door. Everything accomplished in under an hour.

   As soon as she heard his car drive off, Susannah got out of bed and began her final preparations. She had a decent window of opportunity in which to pull it off. Andrew never let her leave the house unless he both knew why she would be out, and approved of the reason. Susannah had told him that she had her semi-annual ob/gyn check up at 10:30, then she was going to meet Morgan for lunch. In the afternoon she would visit the gym, then the beauty salon and then she would be home in time to bathe and dress before meeting Andrew at the country club with some new clients he was entertaining.

   She made the bed, and pulled the clothes that Charles had instructed her to wear from the hiding place in te back of her closet: A large old men’s white t shirt, a pair of faded skin tight blue jeans, tennis sneakers and white socks. No panties, no bra. She showered and made sure she paid special attention to shaving her pubis closely. She did up her crack past her anus meticulously as well.

   She retrieved the plane ticket He had sent from the bottom of her jewelry drawer, and without a second glance around the house, she left, leaving behind everything, except her driver’s license in  a small carry on bag with make-up, tampons, ( her period was due in two days), and some facial tissues.

   Susannah walked a few blocks, and then called a taxi from a pay phone at a diner. Ten minutes later, she was in the cab and off to the airport, leaving behind her the only world she had ever known.

   The plane ride was basically uneventful. The ticket was first class, so she had plenty of room to stretch out and be comfortable. She did experience quite a bit of discomfort as the inner seam of the denim jeans chaffed her closely shaven pussy lips, causing a mild, but, persistent irritation. Not really painful, but constant and annoying. Her nervousness made sleeping impossible, and concentrating on the movie was difficult at best, but it did help to pass the hours as she headed east, to her destiny.

   They landed right on time at JFK, and she was one of the first passengers to debark the plane. The concourse was very crowded as she searched through the multitudes trying to find someone who would be looking for her.  As she had never seen a picture of Charles, she was at a decided disadvantage. He, on the other hand, had many pictures of her, which she had emailed Him gladly, (many of them were naked photos shot by Morgan).

   Over twenty minutes passed, and the majority of her fellow passengers had moved on, or met up with friends or family. Panic began to ensue. Did He stand her up? Did He really exist, or was it Andrew all along, toying with her? Then, her eyes lit on a huge bear of a man leaning against the wall on the other side of the concourse. He seemed to be staring right through her. Without taking His eyes from her’s, she caught an ever so slight nod of His head, and she knew it was Him.

   As she walked to Him, she could see he was much larger than she originally thought, standing a solid six foot three, probably 265 pounds. His clean shaven head glistened under the stark airport lighting, and his dense thick beard was long, completely hiding His neck. A black leather motorcycle jacket was casually hanging off a shoulder, exposing a black t shirt which strained under the pressure of His highly developed muscular torso and arms. Tight black denim jeans covered the tops of a pair of exotic black leather cowboy boots.

   Just before she reached Him, he turned away and sauntered over to a bench and sat down. She continued to follow behind Him and watched His face as He looked her over from the bench. “You are never to stand before me unless I tell you otherwise. A slave’s place is on her knees, be it in private or in public. You would do well to remember that,” He said calmly and quite matter- of- factly.

   Susannah knelt as she was told, and kept her eyes to the floor, gazing at the patterns in the leather of His boots. From her left side, He slid a shopping bag in front of her, and then with His left foot he slid air plane ticket over next to the bag. Her eyes darted from the bag to the ticket and back again many times before He explained to her, “You are about to make what may very well be the last choice you ever make in your life. It is quite simple, really. You have the choice to, one,   pick up the shopping bag and walk into the women’s rest room over there. In the bag is an envelope with your instructions in it. Follow them to the letter. Or, number two, you may pick up the plane ticket, and catch a return flight home.” He glanced at a watch hanging from His belt, “It leaves in a little over an hour. You could be home in time for dinner with your husband at his country club.” He waited a moment letting it sink in. “Your choice. Pick up the ticket and walk away, or pick up the bag and begin your new life.”

    She really didn’t need to give it any thought at all. The wetness between her legs was surely showing through the crotch of her jeans by now. A quick thought entered her mind, “I wonder if anyone of these people walking by has any idea what is happening here?” she thought. In a swift motion, Susannah snatched up the ticket, and raising her eyes to meet His, she lingered for a moment, and then tore it in half. She grabbed the bagged and springing to her feet, bolted across the concourse to the ladies room.

    Except for a couple of ladies washing up at the sinks, the lavatory was empty. Susannah set the bag down on the sink furthest from the other women and took out the envelope. In His hand she read: If you must relieve yourself, now is the time, as it will take a solid two hours or more to get to My house, and I have no plans for stopping along the way unless I need gas. You are to get undressed completely, then stuff your clothes in a waste bin. You are not to do this in a stall, it must be in the open. When you are naked, take the butt plug and dildo from the bag and push them into your cunt and ass. Do not make them wet before you put them in yourself. At this point, you are to get dressed with the clothes that are in the bag. When you have accomplished this, get dressed and return to Me. C.”

   Without allowing herself the luxury of thinking or planning how she would obey His directives, Susannah stepped into a stall ands bolted it behind her. Dropping her jeans, she squatted over the bowl and relieved herself. A fleeting thought of undressing in the relative safety of the stall crossed her mind, but just as quickly she dismissed it as disobedience, and she vowed she would tell Him of her thoughts of not obeying when she faced Him again.

   Just as she unlatched the stall, and group of teen-aged girls entered the ladies room, giggling about some of the boys on their class trip in a swarming hormonal frenzy. For a split second, Susannah balked, but then, directly squaring herself to face the young girls, she began to strip off her tee shirt, jeans and sneakers. It only was a second before one of the girls noticed her, and announce, “Look at that!”

   All eyes were upon her now as she stepped out of her jeans.  She stood naked for a few moments before getting dressed in the clothing He had proscribed for her. She pulled on an extremely short and tight shiny black leather mini skirt, which barely reached her crotch, with a matching leather vest that had no buttons or snaps to keep it closed over her chest. A pair of five inch black heels that strapped above the ankle finished off the ensemble. Several of the girls ran from the lavatory, but four of them remained transfixed by what they saw. When she had finished dressing, she tossed her old clothes in a trash bin and walked proudly past the girls. Susannah stopped and faced one of them and said, “Maybe one day, if you’re fortunate enough, some man will make you do this for Him.” Turning in her hells, Susannah walked out the door and across the concourse to where her Master was seated, awaiting her return. The four girls followed her out the door and watched from a distance. They gawked as she knelt on the hard floor in front of a giant bearded man in a motorcycle jacket. 

   He looked her over, reveling in His power and control over her. “Well done, slave. Did you follow My instructions to the letter?”

  “Yes, Master, i did.”

    “You are not to refer to Me as Master. That honor will be bestowed upon you at the formal ceremony when you become My slave for life. Until that time, you are to refer to me simply as Sir. Is that understood?”

   “Yes Sir,” came her reply, a bit disappointed. “Sir?”

   “Yes, slave?”

   “You should know that i hesitated in the ladies room, and a thought of getting undressed in the stall entered my mind. But, it was only for a second,” she added quickly.

   “Thank you for your honesty. Because of it, I will not punish you for your wandering mind. Besides, when I am done training you, you will be incapable of having thoughts of disobedience ever again.”

   He fell silent for a while, allowing her to remain on her knees before Him as countless people hurried by, meeting planes, picking up loved ones, schleping baggage. She knelt, in her extra short leather mini skirt, the open vest doing a poor job of concealing the alluring swell of her breasts. At long last, he bent over and buckled a thick black leather dog collar snugly around her neck. Instantly, and inordinate swell of pride coursed through her, and tears welled up in her eyes. It was not something that escaped His gaze.

   “This is just a temporary collar, My pet. You will be fitted for a proper permanent one which you will receive at the ceremony. He clipped a common chain dog leash to the collar and stood up, adding, “This collar will suffice for now.”

   He jerked the leash hard and she rose to her feet, trailing behind Him down the concourse to the parking garage. She was aware that very few people even gave her a second glance as she was lead on the leash, “New York is a lot different from home,” she thought to herself.

    Her mind was in a dream state as they walked up the garage ramp, and she wasn’t really aware of them stopping until He said, “Here,” as He handed her a tie back for her long hair. It was then that she saw the spotless jet black chopped motorcycle right in front of her. She tied her hair back and waited as He fastened a very small helmet to her head.

   He got on the bike and kicked it over before extending a burly arm to help her aboard. He sensed her naivete about where to put her hands to hold on. So He reached back and pulled her arms around His trim hard waist and said, “Hold on. It’s a long ride.”

    With that, dropped the bike into first gear, let out the clutch, and took her away to the new life she had only dared dream about before. The life of a total slave.

TAKING THE FINAL STEP

CHAPTER 2

A NEW REALITY

By. Charles E. Campbell

That ride from Kennedy International was her first time ever on a motorcycle, and it proved to be an odd combination of scary and exhilarating at the same time. By that point in her life, Susannah knew from nothing about motorcycles, (something which her Owner has long since remedied). Sure, she’d heard about Harleys and Hondas and Yamahas, but she couldn’t tell one from another if called on it. Charles’ bike was different, she came to learn. A custom built chopper. Susannah found it anything but comfortable perched on that dubious little p-pad in the back. Very loud! Very cramped! The seating position and the constant vibrations made her groin go numb. She has since learned that all of these things are due to the fact that the bike has a 120 cubic inch engine with the motor bolted directly into a rigid, (suspension-less) frame. Muffler-less straight pipes barking out a powerful throaty drone as the big motor’s pulsations transversed the entire bike and seemed to culminate in the very hard, barely functional little “P” pad which served as her seat. The passenger foot pegs were mounted up high right under the seat, which exposed all of her legs in the short leather skirt.

They rode for about ninety minutes or so from the airport, crossing the Whitestone Bridge and following a northerly  heading up the parkways that flow like veins through Westchester County. They stopped for gas and some bottled water. Unsure of His wishes, Susannah told Charles that she needed to pee very badly, what with the vibrations and all. He sent her around behind the small combination general store and gas station and told her to squat. “Wipe yourself with your hand and then lick your hand clean,” He instructed her. “I don’t want to have to smell your hand to see if you paid attention,” He added sternly.

Trying to remain as unobtrusive as she could, Susannah skulked around behind the building and found a “suitable” spot between a dumpster and a junked car. Spreading her legs wide, trying to avoid splashing the new heels, she squatted down and relieved herself. When she was done, Susannah wiped her hand through the wet slit and brought it to her mouth to clean it off. It was to be her first taste of urine. (It would most certainly not be her last!).

They resumed the trek to His home. Susannah was slowly becoming more comfortable on the back of the big machine, leaning with Him in the turns, rather than trying to fight it and lean the other way. She was a whole lot less fearful, and was actually enjoying the feeling of the waning sun, the wind, and the mixtures of different smells as the big bike passed through the countryside. On a lonely section of two lane country road, they got behind a light blue mini van with a full load of kids and a license plate which read: “SOCCRMOM.” As they began to pass the van, Charles reached back with his huge left hand and buried it between His new slave’s legs, seeking out her pussy. The soft leather on His gloved hand caressed the wet folds. The vibrations of the bike, mixed with his probing fingers washed over her, causing her to forget that they were traveling at 65 m.p.h.  It’s a sure bet the soccer mom and at least a few of her charges saw more than they had bargained for as they thundered past them.

They made a second stop about an hour later. (Another thing she was to learn about His bike was that it has a “Peanut” tank for the gas. It only holds about two gallons of gas. Quite pleasing aesthetically, but not very functional for long distance riding.) This time they headed for a diner He knew to get something to eat. “I am going to allow you to order for yourself today,” He said after the waiter had brought the menus. “Don’t get too used to it.”

They talked about Susannah during the entire meal. He wanted to know how long ago it was that she discovered she was a true submissive slave at heart. How long had she and her friend been dabbling in S & M. He told her that the single most important thing for them to develop was trust. His feeling was/is, that a slave must trust her Owner implicitly. No questions. No reservations. Totally placing herself in His hands, to do with as He wishes, for His reasons only. No explanations asked for. None offered. No “safe words.” Total trust. The giving of herself to Him in every way. Nothing would be her’s any longer, which was why He allowed her to bring almost nothing with her on the plane. It was more, he explained, than just leaving her past behind. It was actually to stress that any needs she would now have, He would see to them. He would decide what they were, prioritize them, and take care of them, in whatever manner He saw fit, or even not at all. Nothing would be of any concern to her any longer, except pleasing Him and abiding by His rules and wishes. Complete and absolute servitude.

Susannah was soaking wet by the time their meal was finished and the conversation had ended. He sensed her arousal, because He reached out with His hand under the table and stretched it across to feel her. A broad smile emerged from behind His bearded face as He looked straight into Susannah’s eyes. Neither of them spoke, but they both, at that moment, reached their first point of acceptance, understanding, and trust.

As He topped off the gas tank before setting out on the last leg of the trip, He said to her, “We have about half an hour left. I want you to ride topless. I’ll allow you to lean in close to Me if you wish.” He stood and waited, watching, as Susannah obeyed, and slid the leather vest off of her shoulders, right there in the dirt and gravel of the unpaved parking lot, lit by the lights for the diner.    Any patrons in the booths by the windows could see her naked breasts very clearly. He took the vest and put it into one of the fringed leather saddlebags on the back of the bike. They got back on the bike and headed for His home. At first, Susannah hugged close to His broad back, fearful, but loving the feel of His weather worn leather jacket brushing her now hard nipples. But as the two lane road became more deserted, she leaned back a bit, and felt the warm wind caressing her free breasts.

He pulled the bike off the main road onto a dirt road that was blocked by a black wrought iron gate. Stopping the bike, they both got off, and he unlocked the chain that held the gate closed. Charles got back on the bike and rode it through the gate. He waited with the motor rumbling as Susannah closed and re-locked the chain. She straddled the bike and He carefully rode down the rutted road through dense woods. “I have a bit over three hundred acres,” He called back to her over the lopping engine’s menacing growl. “Most of it is woodlands. There’s a seven acre lake near the house. Very private. Very secluded. The perfect spot for you to begin your training without being disturbed!”

Susannah had almost forgotten where she was and why she was there! The splendor of the unspoiled forest was foremost in her thoughts. His term, “begin your training,” brought her right back to reality! The road made a slow sweeping turn as they started up a severe incline. The big motor grumbling with the strain, pulling against the hill as it climbed. Cresting the hill, Susannah was awestruck by the natural beauty that surrounded them in the bright moonlight. A mirror calm lake glimmered in the ghostly white light. On the far side of the lake stood a Tudor style house, framed by tall stately pine trees.

He brought the bike around to the barn, which stood about fifty yards from the house. Weathered wood freshly stained gray, with a large pair of doors. Stopping the bike before the barn, he handed her a key and said, “Open it up.”

Susannah climbed off the back, stiff from her initiation ride. She put the key in the lock and pushed the two doors open. He rode the bike in and parked it in a corner near the back. Susannah glanced around the hay strewn floor and her eyes widened as they recognized several instruments of torture! A St. Andrew’s Cross, a Tau Cross made of splintered old beams, a rack, a wheel, a whipping post, and a winch with steel cables and spreader bar.

“You will experience these things all in good time, slave. One must be patient,” He laughed gruffly.”Strip off your clothes!”

Obediently Susannah stepped out of her tiny leather skirt, and undid the straps on the heels. She had never before felt so naked as she did at that moment, in just the little bit of moonlight that shone through the barn doors, under His scrutiny. She felt as if he was inspecting a piece of merchandise. An inanimate object, not a naked flesh and blood female.

“You are never to wear clothes when we are here, unless I expressly tell you otherwise. Sandals are permitted, and you will find several pairs near your stall. I would prefer that you do wear the sandals as there is quite a bit of loose rock and stone on the grounds and in the lake, an I don’t want to have to stitch up any cuts on your feet.”

“Yes Sir,” she replied, head down looking at my bare feet.

Charles walked over to a horse stall. The stall was made of wood, with a steel cage fitted over the top, enclosing it completely. He removed the pin in the hasp and opened the door. “You stall, slave,” He said, waiting for her.

Susannah walked to the stall and looked in. Fresh hay covered the floor. There was a small show rack with three pairs of sandals on it. All flats with leather straps to tie them on. A bucket of water hung on the wall to the right side. Susannah stepped unsurely into the stall and Charles closed the door behind her, locking the hasp. Wordlessly, He left her there. Closing the barn door behind him.

Crestfallen, Susannah felt her way around in the pitch black, trying to remember where the rack was. He hadn’t touched her! Not to take her or even just to beat her.! He hadn’t even spoken to her, just abandoning her in the stall, like a horse, or cattle. Tears welled in her eyes. What had she gotten herself into? She had left her husband, her best friend. No one knew where she was. No one could help her. What had she done?

She sobbed and cried for a few hours before finally falling asleep in the itchy scratchy hay.

She awoke once during the night, having to pee and poop really bad. All she could do was squat in a corner of the stall and take care of it. Then she brushed some hay over the excrement and went to the farthest corner of the stall and fell back asleep.

Susannah awoke to the bright light as the barn doors opened. Stiff from the long motorcycle ride and sleeping in the uncomfortable hay, she slowly stood. Expecting to see her Master, she was startled to see a thin white haired black man approaching her stall. He was dressed in a formal butler’s uniform, black jacket, vest, crisply starched and pressed white shirt, black bow tie, and black slacks. She tried in vain to cover her nakedness. He laughed a deep resounding laugh that set his eyes twinkling. “No sense tryin’ t’hide yerseff from me, missy. I’ll be ‘a seein’ a whole lotta you from now on.”

He grabbed a shovel from the tool rack next to the stall. Unlocking the hasp her said, “Time ta muck out yer stall, missy. I kin smell yer piss and shit all over the barn!”

Susannah blushed as she took the shovel from the man. She really had to hunt to find the spot where she had relieved herself in the total darkness last night, but finally she did, and she shoveled the wet hay and shit and put it in a bucket the man had set on the ground.

“My name’s Carlton, ‘n I’m Mister Charles butler. You ‘n me’s a gonna be spendin’ a whole lotta time t’gether, missy. Whatever I says is a whatcha gonna be a doin’. No ifs, ands, ‘er buts. Now you looks ta me ta be a right smart little filly, so’s I’m a thinkin’ you’ll be learnin’ the ropes real quick. Won’t be a givin’ ole Carlton no trouble. But jus’ in case you do, I’ll be tellin’ ya sumpin’ fer yer own good.” He took a cat ‘o nine tails off his belt and dangled it in front of Susannah’s bulging eyes. “Any pro’lems you be a giving’ me, and you’ll be feeling what this here thing kin do. You ketch my drift, missy?”

“Yes sir,...................uh, Sir.....Sir....”

“Oh, that’s awright. You kin just call me Carlton.

“Not let’s git you outside and cleaned up. We got us a busy day t’day. Mister Charles gave me a long lista things we gotta do. Go ‘n git sum sandals on yer feet, ‘n be quick about it!”

Susannah tied a pair of sandals on and followed Carlton out into the hot sun. He took her over to a garden hose and said, “Bend over so’s I kin give ya yer bath.”

Susannah did what he said. He turned on the water and hosed her down, paying particular attention to her pussy and ass. Shutting off the hose, he started walking over to a small shed behind the barn. Unsure of what she was to do, Susannah stayed where she was, waiting another order. “You cummin’, bitch? Or do I hafta use my whip onya al’ready?”

Susannah trotted after him, her breasts bouncing obscenely as she ran.

Carlton opened the door of the shed and brought out a clip board that held several sheets of paper with a pencil taped to a string. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tape measure . “You stand up straight ‘n tall and don’t fidget about none, ya hear?”

“Yes Carlton,” Susannah replied, curious as yo what he was doing.

Carlton proceeded to measure just about everything there was on the slave to measure. He measured her head, the length of her arms and legs, wrist to elbow, elbow to shoulder, hip to knees, kees to ankles, the girth of her upper arms, wrists, thighs, calves, ankles, waist, chest,  and hips. He even made her step into a box that contained some putty like material to get impressions of her feet. Just as he was wrapping up, her empty stomach started growling loudly. “Guess I’ll be needin’ ta feed ya,” he said, as much to himself as to her.

He went back into the shed looking for something. Susannah could hear him noisily rummaging around in there. Finding what he was looking for, he backed out of the shed with a stout length of heavy rusted chain in his hands. Unceremoniously, he draped it around her neck. Instantly she stooped a bit under it’s surprising weight.

Carlton locked the chain around her neck and then lead her back to the barn. He affixed the end of the chain to a metal post with an iron ring in it, the kind one might use to tether a horse. “I’ll gitcha sumpin’ ta eat, missy. Then we’s got work ta do!”

He left her there in the sun, which was already passing rapidly from pleasantly warm to uncomfortably hot. Susannah used this opportunity to take her first good look around where she was. The lake was larger than it had seemed in the moonlit night. Tall pines and maples framed it’s shore on the far side. The barn where she had spent the night blocked her from seeing the house.

Carlton returned a few minutes later carrying some granola bars and some bottles of water. Susannah scarfed the bars down and finished off a half liter bottle of water. Seeing that she was finished eating, Carlton announced, “The first thing we gonna do is start gittin’ you in shape!”

He unlocked the chain and then said, “Let’s gitcha started with sum jumpin’ jacks.”

Susannah hesitated in disbelief. It took one blurred slash of the cat on her thigh and she was performing the required exercise with the gusto of a Marine recruit.

Carlton put her through what must have been a pre-ordained routine of callisthenics: Jumping jacks, followed by push-ups, sit-ups, squat thrusts, deep knee bends, and then five laps around the barn. Susannah was gasping for breath and her naked body was covered in sweat and dust. She hadn’t noticed that, while she was running her laps, Carlton had gotten some equipment from the shed, and he was waiting with it when she finished running.

Carlton gave her a second bottle of water, which she swallowed greedily. Then she was fitted with a bridle, bit, and reins that was made for a human. Carlton placed the bridle over her head and buckled it securely. He pushed the hard rubber bit back into her mouth, forcing her tongue down and cinched it in place to the bridle. The reins hung down from the bit at the corners of her open mouth. “Bend over, missy, and spread ‘em”

Susannah bent at the waist, exposing her ass and cunt to Carlton and with both hands, pulled her cheeks apart. She heard him spit a couple of times and then felt pressure on her puckered rear hole. Twisting and rocking the invader back and forth, Carlton finally got it in and seated. She knew from experience that it was a decent sized butt plug. She had owned a few before and had experimented with them many times. Susannah felt a strange tickling sensation on the inside of her legs all the way down to the middle of her calved.  “Ya kin stand up now, missy,” Carlton said, standing back a step to inspect his charge.

Susannah straightened up, and felt the tickling sensation creep even further down her legs, almost to her ankles. Curiosity getting the better of her, she looked down between her legs and saw that it was a long thick bunch of chestnut brown horse hair.

A quick jerk on the reins and she was standing upright once again. “Now, the first thing ya gotta remember is how ya step. It’s a proud kinda prance really. High steppin’ I calls it. Ya gotta bring yer leg up nice ‘n high, thigh running parallel with the ground. Point yer toes straight down when the leg is up, then ya place that foot right in front of the other’n.  Keep yer steps short.

“Now, let me see ya lift that right leg up nice’n high fer me.”

Susannah followed his instructions, practicing over and over with just her right leg. Each time striving to raise it high, point her toes down, and place it right in front of her left foot. After better than three dozen steps, he had her switch and do the same drill with her left leg. Then, finally, he deemed it time to alternate, but still not moving forward.

Sweat was pouring from the slave’s brow and her body was covered with rivulets of moisture The sun had gotten more intense, and the combination of the heat and the exertion was taking it’s toll. Carlton could read it on her face, and he had her stop and follow him to the shade offered by a large beech tree.

“You kin wait here, missy. I’m gonna git us some water n’ sumthin’ ta eat fer lunch.”

Her came back twenty minutes later carrying a large canvas tote bag, which he set on the ground and proceeded to open. Extracting a bottle of water, he handed it to Susannah, who drank it down right away. Then her handed her a plastic container with a simple garden salad in it. For himself, he had a meaty sub sandwich with all the trimmings and slathered in mustard.

“Um, Carlton,” Susannah said nervously, picking at her meager fare, “I need to pee.”

“Well you go right ahead, missy. Yer not gonna mess yer stall out here. Jest one thing though, no squattin’ down when ya go. Ya gotta stand up straight ‘n tall. Oh, an’ another thing. Keep yer legs tagether. Don’t spread ‘em.”

He wanted her to piss on herself! Right in front of him, in the dirt!. “I......I don’t really have to go that bad........I can wait,” she said, trying to postpone the inevitable.

“Sher ya do, missy. Sher ya do. Now I’m gonna be takin’ care of you fer quite a while, so you’d best git useta me watchin’n you doin’ all kinds a things. So’s ya might as well start now. Git up and piss lak I tol’ ya.”

Susannah stood up. She didn’t think she could do it, but her bladder was bursting, so she squeezed her eyes closed and almost immediately, she felt the hot liquid running down the insides of her legs, making a puddle of urine and mud at her feet. Her face turned a bright crimson when she opened her eyes and saw that Carlton had bee watching the spectacle with a broad toothy grin the entire time.

“Now,” he said, “Git down in that little pee puddle you made and roll in it like the pig you are, cunt!”

His voice had taken an ominous tone, unlike any he had used before. In fear, Susannah got down in the wet mud and started to roll in the pungent mixture, covering her chest and stomach.

“Okay, you kin stop now, missy. Finish yer lunch, cuz we still gots a lot ta do before we putcha in yer stall fer the night.”

The afternoon was a repeat of the morning. Arduous calisthenics, running, and practicing her stepping. By four thirty she was so hungry and fatigued that she could barely think. Carlton had kept her well hydrated, feeding her water every forty minutes or so, and making her piss in the first puddle, rolling in it each time.

“We’ll gitcha cleaned up a bit, then it’ll be time fer yer supper, missy,” Carlton announced. He lead her to the lake and said, “ Take a little swim ‘n bath, missy. Git some ‘o that muck offa yerself. Make sher ya clean yer insides too, that cooch and yer butt hole. I kin smell it from here! Ill be watchion’ ya, so don’t try ‘n skip that part.

“Hang on a second, missy. Bend over.”

Susannah knew what was coming, so she assumed the position and spread her cheeks without being told. Carlton grabbed the pony tailed butt plug and pulled it out quickly.

“Clean this good too. Yer gonna be wearin’ it everyday, til yer ready fer the next bigger size!”

The water was cool, not cold, but it felt icy on her sun baked skin, causing her to shiver uncontrollably, goose bumps erupting on her skin. Using her hands, she scrubbed the caked mud off herself as best as she could. She paid close attention to washing out her pussy and ass as Carlton kept a close scrutiny on her ministrations.

Once she was clean, Carlton lead her back to the barn and into her stall. He poured fresh water into her bucket, and left her with a plastic grocery bag containing a baggy of trail mix, as well as apples, bananas, pears, and a bunch of red grapes.

“Night, missy. Sleep good. T’morra’s gonna be a busy day fer ya!”

He closed the stall and locked it. Then he exited the barn and locked the large wooden door as well. Very little light seeped in under the boards, so Susannah was plunged into almost complete darkness even though there was still a few hours of daylight left in the day. Sadness crept over her, thinking that she hadn’t seen Charles all day. Not once. She started crying heavily. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wrestle with her emotions for long. Fatigue and her aching muscles sent her into a deep sleep, from which she only awoke when she heard the now familiar creaking of the big barn doors.

Lifting her head slightly from her straw bed, she saw Charles’ large figure clad in black leather climbing onto His bike. Suysanah sprang up and peered through the boards of her stall. He not only didn’t speak to her, He didn’t even bother to look in her direction. He just wheeled the machine out into the early dawn and closed the door behind Him. Susannah heard the big motor catch as he started it up. He allowed the idle to smooth out before kicking it into gear and riding away.

Susannah was wide awake now, and very stiff! It took a lot of effort to push herself  and go to the corner to empty both her bladder and her bowels in the hay. She felt dirty when she remembered that there was nothing to clean herself with. She curled back up in the hay and closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. She was so totally confused by Charles’ actions. Tears leaked from the corners of her puffy eyes.

The barn door creaked again, and she heard Carlton calling to her, “Rise ‘n shine missy. Time ta git up. Let’s go!”

He handed her a shovel and said, “Meet me outside after ya muck yer stall, and be quick about it!”

“Yes, Carlton,” she replied, repulsed by her now daily task.

The day was a virtual carbon copy of the preceding one. He hosed her down, cleaning her inside and out, ran her through her exercises, adding a minute or more to each one, then gave her water and granola bars to eat. He fitted her with her tack and inserted her “tail, then it was practicing her step and learning some basic non-verbal commands with the reins. She pranced around the bar multiple times, trying very hard to be cognizant of the placement of each foot in front of the other. A quick bite from Carlton’s buggy whip served as an ever constant reminder when a step wasn’t high enough, or it lacked snap.

A week into the routine, and some changes were made. Carlton no longer had to tell her to clean her stall, she did it first thing when he unlocked the stall door. Whenever she needed to urinate, she would just do it where she stood, legs closed, the warm liquid running down her legs. The exercise regimen was now about forty-five minutes long, and there were now two of them, first thing in the morning and also right after lunch. Her lunch meal was heartier now, consisting of pasta salad with strips of turkey and cheese.

The muscles of her calves and thighs were much more clearly defined now. Her arms had also developed a noticeable clarity. What little fat she had around her stomach and buttocks when she first arrived was gone. Replaced by the first sign of a six pack set of abs, due mostly to diet and sit-ups. She now had a golden tan from her face to her feet. No tan lines, of course, she hadn’t worn clothes at all for seven days.

One afternoon, about ten days after Charles had taken off on His bike, a car drove up the road. It had been a particularly hot and humid day, and it seemed to Susannah that Carlton had been pushing her extra hard. Carlton paid no attention to the approaching vehicle, rather, he redoubled his prodding with the buggy whip, making Susannah prance and step even quicker as she did laps around the barn. 

Rounding the side of the barn, Susannah saw a woman dressed in black standing waiting for them. A naked woman knelt at her feet. Her head had been shaved. A thick steel rod pierced through both of her breasts, very deep, near the base of the breast,  with pieces of metal shaped like the letter “U” hanging from the bar and hanging under each breast. Two large round balls capped the ends of the rod. Susannah had never seen anything like it before. The rod had to be at least an inch thick, probably more, she thought.

“Carlton, “the woman called out, “Bring Charles’ new slave to Me. I wish to examine her.”

“Yes ‘m.”

Carlton whispered in Susannah’s ear, “You best be doin’ whatever this here Lady tells ya, missy. Or I’ll be throwin’ you a beatin’ the likes of which ya can’t imagine  when she leaves.”

Susannah continued her high step until she stood before the woman. She had to fight her natural curiosity and make herself look at the round. The woman slowly walked around Susannah, occasionally touching her flanks, then her buttocks, but not speaking to her. When she was standing back in front of Susannah, the woman placed her hands under Susannah’s breasts, which were still rising and falling as she had yet to catch her breath after the workout. It was as if she was feel the heft of the fleshy orbs.

“Carlton.”

“Yes, Miss Ilsa!”

Please be a dear and give slut a refresher on her stepping and her stride. I’ll take this one,....er, what’s her name again?”

“It’s Susannah, Ma’am,” Carlton replied.

“I’ll take Susannah, then, with Me. I want to see how she moves so I can decide what sort of harness would be best suited to her body.”

Carlton handed the reins to Ilsa, and watched as his charge followed the directions dictated by the reins. When they had passed from earshot, he looked down at slut and said, “Let’s git you up and see how much you remember, missy.”

Ilsa never spoke a word to Susannah. All her commands were through nuances with the reins and clicking sounds She would make with her tongue. Susannah could sense the slight tug the reins would make on her bit when Ilsa wanted her to turn. A flick of the reins to make her speed up. A light pull back to slow her down.

A sheen of sweat covered the slave as she was put through her paces. Drool fell from her mouth, as the bit precluded her closing her lips to swallow. A few large deer flies swarmed around her sweaty hair, occasionally biting her on the neck.

“Whoa,” Ilsa shouted, when they were almost halfway around the lake. Susannah’s bladder was about ready to burst from all the water she had consumed. She couldn’t hold it any longer, and peed herself as Carlton had told her, her legs tight together.

Whether or not it was proper, or Mistress Ilsa found it wrong, Susannah never knew, because Ilsa made no remark about it whatsoever, choosing instead to wait until she had stopped before resuming her inspection of the girl. This time, her examination was much more thorough. Her lips were pulled back to examine her mouth and teeth. Her breasts were kneaded to test their suppleness. Her nipples pinched hard to see how erect they became. Her pussy and ass were probed, at least three fingers Susannah guessed by the pressure. Ilsa wiped her soiled fingers across Susannah’s sweat covered face.  Her body slapped all over, looking for jiggling fat anywhere. 

Seeming to be satisfied, Ilsa snapped the reins and said, “Giddy-up!”

Susannah could see Carlton putting the bald slave through her paces as they headed back to the barn. He was using the buggy whip on her quite freely, almost as if just for the sheer pleasure of it, and not to get her attention. Ilsa jerked the reins back hard, and Susannah stopped. They both watched as slut trotted around in the hot sun, the frequent snap of the whip the only sound, as the barefoot slave pranced.

“She’s still doin’ pretty good, Ma’am,” Carlton offered as he brought the slave back to her owner. She could use some leg work ta tighten up them muscles a bit, but all ‘n all she’s in good shape.

“Ya thinkin’ of enterin’ her in the races against this here new filly?”

“I don’t know yet, Carlton. I might just bring her to the races without entering her in a competition.

“This new one here, uh, Susannah?”

Carlton nodded.

“She’s progressing very well. You certainly haven’t lost your touch Carlton. She should take a lot of people by surprise. Especially since you still have two more weeks to get her in competition form.”

Ilsa stopped speaking when She noticed that Carlton was eyeing Her slave hungrily. She could see the large bulge in his jeans and said, “Would you like slut to relieve you, Carlton?”

“If that’d be okay by You, Ma’am. I sher could stand a little go with her. She’s got the best mouth I’ve ever run into.”

Ilsa nodded to her slave, who got on her knees in the loose dusty dirt at Carlton’s feet. She unbuckled his belt and undid the jeans, exposing the longest cock Susannah had ever seen, except in porn videos. It had to be at least twelve inches long, and covered in tangles of thick veins running the length if the shaft. Slut sucked the massive member deep into her mouth, slobbering saliva generously as she went. Carlton stood stock still, allowing the slave to do all the work, her head bobbing back and forth as she sucked. 

It didn’t take long for her talented mouth to achieve the desired result. Carlton grabbed the sweat slickened back of her bald head and pulled her into him as he shot his load deep into the back of her throat. Slut kept sucking and swallowing until he pushed her away. “Thank you, Sir,” slut said, still kneeling in the dirt, her face covered in her own saliva.

“She ain’t lost that either, Ma’am,” Carlton offered. “If anything, she’s got better at it!”

“I’m pleased to hear that, Carlton. I do try to keep her oral skills honed.

“I have your measurements from last week, and I have a pretty good idea of what would be suitable for this slave,” Ilsa said, pointing at Susannah. “I’ll get it sent out right away, just in case minor adjustments need to be made. Marissa will be by after she’s with Me. I’ll have my trailer here early to pick her up. She can travel with slut.

“I’ll look for you and Charles at the races?”

“We’ll be there, Ma’am. Don’cha worry none about that. He said He’d be back in time.  He said he might even keep this ‘un if she shows alright. We’ll hafta see.”

Ilsa nodded, then said, “slut!”

The bald slave got up and went to open the passenger door for her Owner, before getting into the driver’s side and driving off.

A week after Ilsa and slut’s visit, Carlton woke Susannah from her sleep with, “Rise ‘n shine, missy. T’day’s a big one. All yer equipment’s here. We gits ta see how it looks on ya!”

She cleaned her stall, did her calisthenics, which now took an hour to accomplish, and she was up to doing them three times each day. After eating her granola bars, drinking two bottles of water, and peeing, Carlton hosed her down, and broke with routine, “Folla me, missy. Step right ‘n proper.”

Susannah followed behind Carlton, who was walking in the direction of the house. Her deliberate practiced stride was slower than his easy gait, but she pushed herself to speed it up in an effort to not be too far behind him. He lead her around to the back of the house. She had never set foot inside it, and had often fantasized about what it was like, trying to imagine it in her head.

She followed him up a short flight of wooden steps to a screened porch, where she saw a set of wicker furniture painted light yellow. On the glass top table was a large cardboard box with the flaps pulled back. Carlton reached into the box and pulled out a pair of soft black leather thigh high boots with incredibly high stiletto heels, three inch platform soles,  and sharp points on the toe that were highlighted in ornate patterns of sterling silver.

“Put these on, missy,” Carlton ordered.

She sat on one of the thick cushion chairs and took the boots from him. She unzipped them down to the ankle and slid her left foot in. The leather was softer than anything she had ever pout on her feet. She struggled a bit with the zipper, as the boots fit very tight, but she finally got the zipper all the way up when she straightened out her leg. She did the same thing with the right boot and then stood up precariously on the high heels. The tight fit on the ankles, which she later learned was due to metal stays,  gave her some support as she wobbled a bit.

Carlton started lacing a corset around her. It was made of the same soft black leather as the boots and felt soft and somehow reassuring as it encircled her waist. It started just below her breasts, lifting them out from underneath, and extended all the way down to just above the pubic mound in front, and just above the cleft in her rear in back. The stays were made of titanium and when Carlton pulled on the laces, Susannah could feel the wind being forced out of her lungs. 

He tied it off and then began fitting her new tack. Bridle, bit, reins, blinders, all decorated in silver highlighting them beautifully. A two foot high black plume topped it off. He pushed down on her shoulder blade and forced her to bend over. Without warning, he ripped the horse tail butt plug from her ass. She yelped behind the bit in shock. She heard him spit, and felt the pressure of a much longer and thicker plug starting to invade her already stretched hole. He got it in with very little resistence. This new tail was longer and much thicker, fuller,  than the first one. A luxuriant chestnut color, it hung down past her ankles. Only the high boots prevented it from touching the ground.

Carlton pulled her hands behind her and slid a matching black leather single glove on, which fastened to the back of the headgear. He laced it tight, which caused her breasts to be thrust out defiantly. Clipping a leather leash to the ring that sat between her eyes, Carlton lead Susannah back outside. He started right in with her well practiced high stepping as they made their way top the barn.

Entering the barn, Carlton pulled her, not to her stall, but to a different corner, where a buggy of some sort was. It had large thin wheels, not unlike those on a bicycle, with two long slender poles that stuck out from a small narrow seat. He attached a set of metal clips to rings in the sides of her corset and then got he got himself situated in the seat. With a snap of the reins and a load “Git!” Susannah began pulling the buggy out of the barn.

 With her first two steps, she felt the weight of the contraption and Carlton. It made the high stepping all the more difficult and strenuous. Concentrating on her step and keeping her balance on the precarious boots, she hauled him around the barn several times. The sharp sting of the buggy whip on her flanks and a sharp admonishment about her step kept her in line.

For the next week, all of Susannah’s training, other than the calisthenics, was done fully dressed in her new tack. Carlton seemed pleased, as his bites with the buggy whip became few and far between. It was a Friday afternoon,  she had finished mucking her stall and doing the rigorous exercises, when she spotted a small car coming up the dirt road. Carlton went to greet the woman when she pulled up by the house, leaving Susannah alone eating her meager lunch. She could see the two of them exchanging words, and then Carlton pulled a large suitcase and a small folding table out of the trunk of the car, and turning towards Susannah, he snapped his fingers and whistled for her. Shod in her high boots and naked, wearing the long chestnut tail, she pranced over to where they stood. It suddenly dawned on her that she hadn’t walked in her natural gait for so long, she wondered if she could still do it.

The woman watched Susannah’s approach, seemingly paying particular attention to the gentle swaying of the tail. When Susannah got to them, she stopped and stood still. The woman walked around her, allowing her hand to feel the skin in the thighs, buttocks, back, belly and breasts. “I have all afternoon for this one, Carlton?”

“If need be, Ma’am. Ya kin take as much time as ya need. I ain’t plannin’ on pushing her taday, what with the races bein’ so close ‘n all.”

“Would you take my case into the kitchen for me, Carlton. I’ll bring her in in a minute. Have you got any coffee on?”

“Shur do, Ma’am. Light no sugar, if I remembers right?”

“That’s fine, thanks.”

Susannah had a quick flash of how long it had been since she had enjoyed a cup of coffee. A ritual from what seemed eons ago.

The woman kept feeling her skin. Then she undid the single glove and said, “Show me your hands.”

Susannah lifted her hands, palms up.”

“Over.”

Susannah flipped them over. The woman inspected the fingers and nails, feeling the callouses as she went.

“My name is Marissa, not that it matters, slave, as I do not permit slaves to talk to me. Ever. The reason I am here is at the bequest of your Owner. He wishes for you to look your best at the races tomorrow. It’s going to take me the better part of the day to get you the way he wants you, so we’d best get started. Follow me.”

Susannah followed Marissa into the kitchen, it was the first time she had been in the house. Carlton had set up the suitcase on the counter, opened the folding table,  and had poured a large mug of coffee. He was no where to be seen.

“A bath is first. I want you cleaned up so I can see what I have to work with.”

Susannah didn’t move.

“Are you deaf, cunt? Go and draw a bath, now.”

Susannah’s confused face spoke volumes, and Marissa caught it. “Never been in the house, right? Kept in the barn?”

Susannah nodded.

“Upstairs, second door on the left.”

Susannah headed for the back staircase.

“Oh, and by the way,”Marissa stopped her, “Take this and use the whole bottle.” She handed a big bottle of bath oil to Susannah. “I want you to soak for at least an hour. Get some of that filth off you. Start with water as hot as you can stand it. Then let it cool Don’t add any to warm it up. Understand? I’ll call you when I want you to come back downstairs.”

Susannah nodded and left. She filled the tub with very hot water and dumped the bath oil in. While it was filling up, she removed all of her tack. She stepped into the tub, sat down and relaxed, luxuriating  in the steamy waters. After better than an hour, she heard Marissa calling to her, “Dry off and come back to the kitchen.”

Susannah let the water out of the tub, and grabbing a big fluffy towel, she patted herself dry and went back downstairs to the kitchen.

Marissa began with her fingernails. Cleaning the dirt from underneath them, then filing and shaping them, before applying a set of very long acrylic nails and a first coat of polish. A complete pedicure was next. Trimming, the nails and cuticles, and then cotton between the toes before painting the nails a deep rich red, matching the fingers. 

The body hair was next. A full Brazilian waxing. Susannah’s armpits, legs and pubic area hadn’t seen a razor since the morning she got on the airplane and headed east.

The waxing took over an hour, but she was soft and smooth and bald as a newborn once it was complete. Marissa was extremely thorough when it came to hair removal. Any strays were carefully and categorically located and tweezed. Marissa even made her stand and bend over, legs wide, spreading her cheeks, so she could search out any stragglers in and around her ass. Marissa yanked the tail plug out, making it easier to find errant hair, and remove it. 

The hair on her head was next. Studying the color of the chestnut tail, Marissa set about mixing some dye. She was looking for an exact match,  the mane and tail the exact same shade and color. With the proper colors mixed, Marissa had Susannah bend at the kitchen sink so she could wash her hair. Not once, but twice, massaging and manipulating the scalp as she did it. Satisfied, Marissa patted the hair with towels, and then applied the dye, both to Susannah’s tresses, as well as to hair extensions she had brought with her.

Marissa didn’t speak to the slave at all while waiting for the dye to set. Rather, She set about at seemingly unimportant tasks; cleaning her brushes, putting away her waxing supplies, selecting eye liners, brow pencils, lip stick, rouge, and other make-up, always comparing it to the chestnut tail.

After washing the hair again, patting it dry, and combing it out, Marissa added the hair extensions, bringing Susannah’s hair down to the same length as the tail, when inserted. This would create the image that the mane and tail were as one. The extensions were thick and full, so much so that an inordinately large amount of hair blended together as it all cascaded down the backs of her thighs.  The effect was stunning. “She’s a looker now, Ma’am,” Carlton exclaimed as he came in through the kitchen door. “I never woulda thought!”

“Thank you, Carlton. She does look stunning.

“I don’t want her sleeping in that filthy barn tonight. Do you think Charles will understand?”

“Anything you want’ll be awright with Him, Ma’am. He tol’ me ta give ya anything ya need, so it’s yer call.

“Ya gittin’ hungry fer dinner? I got sum chickens goin’ on the grill, with some fresh beans n’ salad?”

“Sounds good to me, Carlton. Thank you, I’d love it.

“What time is she scheduled to leave in the morning? I need to plan for doing her makeup.”

“I think Miss Ilsa tol’ me they’d have the trailer cumin’ by about 8:00. Takes a good two hours ta git ta the farm, so if they git outa here by 8:30, they’ll be there plenty early. I think the parade starts at noon.”

“Fine. That’ll be fine.

“Would you be a dear and put my traveling bag in my bedroom, Carlton? I just want to do a second coat on her nails.”

Susannah wasn’t spoken to all evening, nor was she permitted to speak, but she was allowed to eat the same meal as Marissa and Carlton ate, and she was allowed to dine with them at the kitchen table. She also slept in a huge king size bed, with soft downy pillows and expensive linens. Her butt plug had been removed, but the hair extensions remained.

Carlton woke Susannah from the deepest sleep she had enjoyed in weeks. She glanced at the bedside clock and half noticed the reading as 6:30. “Time ta git up, missy. Marissa’s got a lotta work ta do afore ya git outa here.”

Susannah got up, made the bed and was about to head downstairs when she ran into Marissa. “Let’s get you cleaned out before breakfast, shall we,” Marissa said, leading her back to the bath room. “Did you pee yet this morning,” she asked? Susannah shook her head, remembering the admonishment of not speaking to the woman. “Then go now!”

Susannah felt somehow embarrassed squatting on the bowl as the woman watched, hearing the sound of the piss splashing in the toilet. “Don’t bother wiping, you’ll be taking a shower ina few minutes. Get in the tub on your hands and knees, head down between your arms, stick your ass up in the air.”

Susannah assumed the position, and felt the nozzle of an enema being pushed into her. She felt the cool liquid enter her bowels. She began cramping almost immediately, as she always did. But Marissa seemed unconcerned, as she removed the bottle, and stuck in a second one right away, dumping it’s contents.

Susannah had never experienced two bottle before, and she was in instant agony from te pressure. “Five minutes. I expect you to hold it five minutes,” Marissa admonished her. Adding to the strain, Marissa softly fondled the inside of Susannah’s cleft, rubbing the clit gently, feeling it harden and become slick with wetness. “You may let go when you cum,” Marissa told her, “But if you let go before, then I won’t allow you to cum.”

Susannah nodded, her mind fighting to control the pressure deep within her, while the first waves of pleasure began to emanate from between her legs. She was squirming, trying to close her legs, squeeze her cheeks together, anything. Just when she thought it impossible to hold back, Marissa announced, “Five minutes. You may cum.”

Susannah screamed loudly as the most intense orgasm ever quaked through her, and her bowels opened up, spraying the tiled walls of the shower and tub enclosure. Marissa, for her part, reached over and turned the shower. Cold water only. Standing up, she said, “Clean yourself up and meet me in the bedroom. Make sure you’re dry. Don’t touch your hair, and do not turn off the water until you are done.”

Susannah was laying on her belly on the floor of the tub, still shaking as the orgasm finally ebbed. When she realized what she was laying in, she pushed herself up quickly and began showering in earnest, all but oblivious to the frigid water cascading around her.

The shower complete, she took a towel, dried herself off, and went back to the bedroom. Marissa was waiting for her. She indicated the small bench in front of the makeup table for her to take a seat. She pointed at two granola bars, which would be her sole meal that day. The next forty-five minutes were spent prepping Susannah. Eyeliner, heavy mascara, eye lids,  eyebrow pencil, three coats of brilliant red smear proof lipstick, rouge, (applied to the cheeks and nipples), painstaking attention to detail. The hair brushed slowly with a soft natural bristle brush, bringing out the sheen.

Susannah watched the transformation in the mirror. She looked like a girl from a high end escort service. Marissa, obviously satisfied with her work, hooked Susannah up in all of her gear; boots, bustier, bridle, bit, reins, blinders, single glove, butt plug and tail, and the tall feathery plume. Marissa snapped the blinders closed, effectively blinding the slave. She picked up the reins and said, “Up!”

Susannah stood, much more confident on the high platform soles and heels than she was a week ago. Marissa helped her down the stairs, and they made there way to the front door. The boots were loud on the wooden porch, and on the steps leading down, but soft as she pranced across the yard. Susannah felt a slight incline as she walked up the ramp into the back of a horse trailer. Carlton took the reins from Marissa, and tethered Susanna in the trailer. Unbeknownst to her, she was tied right alongside slut, who had undergone the same transformation that Susannah had, excepting that her tack was all a vivid emerald green, and her bald head had no mane. She also sported numerous small dainty bells in her various piercings that tinkled lightly with even the slightest movement. Susannah heard the sound of a diesel motor starting up, and she almost lost her balance as the trailer lurched into motion, bumping into the naked form beside her.

There was no way to estimate the amount of time they were on the road. The trailer was hot and very noisy, but breezy, as there were some open vents toward the front. The two women bumped into each other frequently, but where Susannah had no idea who she was next to, slut’s blinders weren’t closed, so she could see her partner in the trailer as she pleased.

The two women could feel when the trailer left the paved road and started down a well traveled dirt road. Ten minutes later, the trailer stopped moving, and the diesel engine was silenced. Slut leaned over and whispered through her bit in Susannah’s ear, “If you make a good showing. If you place. Then your Owner might decide to keep you. But if you don’t, He will surely trade you away, or even sell you to someone else. Good luck.”

Susannah turned her head toward the voice just as the doors on the back of the trailer opened, and the ramp was set down.  Right then and there, at that very instant in time, Susannah determined to give everything she had to whatever it was that was coming. She quickly came to the realization that everything Carlton had been doing, the exercising, cleaning her own waste, peeing, the weight loss, the prancing, were all in preparation for today. Whatever it was that he was expecting of her. Whatever it was that He was looking for. Whatever it was, no matter what, she was determined to have Him keep her as His, not to trade or sell her. To keep her as His possession,  in whatever capacity it might be.