Phases of Submission

Phase I: Developing Curiosity

Life throws you curves. Sometimes life tosses obstacles in your way. Sometimes it gives you a break. Then again, sometimes it puts you on a path you never expected.

Two weeks ago I met the CEO of our corporation, Brandon Hacker, at a company gathering. We talked and liked each other enough that we arranged to go out on a date. My life has never been the same since.

Brandon is not the tall, dark, handsome type. Rather he’s funny, medium height, and balding, sort of like Tony Soprano. His comes from both Irish and part Italian heritage. He is quite a bit older than me. But there is something about him that makes me laugh. He knows all my buttons and I can’t help but wrap my arms around him every time he walks into the room.

Brandon is also incredibly intelligent and has incredible insight. When we first met he started to explain how the market works. I didn’t understand that much of it but I was impressed with his ability to predict the commodities market on the fly. I’ve never seen anyone who could predict and react as quickly as him. He also had an uncanny way of knowing how people would react to events, both those that were predictable and those that were not. He would have made an excellent politician. It’s as if he could read minds. His skill allowed him to advance quickly while lining his own coffers over the many years he had worked at Brigham and Stokes. Now, he was CEO. And he was my boyfriend!

As for myself, I had advanced quickly due to my own skills. Over the past year I had been promoted three times until I had reached my current role as associate accounting supervisor. That essentially meant that I did all the work and my boss took all the credit. But I didn’t mind. I was confident in my abilities as an office manager and I enjoyed seeing my projects come to fruition.

We had a lot of turnover, mainly because of the meager salary scale. I was doing OK and I figured to either move up in a few years or use this job as a stepping stone. Considering the slow economy, I suppose I should have been more appreciative.

Anyway, one thing led to another. Brandon and I started dating regularly. Eventually things got serious and I moved into his home, a large two story cottage outside of Raleigh. The house was set back nearly half a mile from the main road. Sitting in the middle of a hundred yard clearing, the oval structure looked more like a circus tent than a house. This was going to be my new home.

We made love on the night I had moved in. It was all that I had hoped for. He was wonderful. I discovered that he was a man who wasn’t afraid to tell me how much he loved me. It made me feel so wonderful that my heart skipped a beat when he kissed me.

As the weeks rolled on from that momentous night I began to realize that I wanted more. At first I started visiting adult websites. Then one day, in the office, I talked to my girlfriend, Diane. “Ellie,” she asked, “Why do you want to screw with something that’s so perfect?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that sex is just sex anymore. It was awesome in the past. Maybe it’s me. I don’t know. Maybe we should try some kinky stuff. I wish I knew someone who was into that sort of thing,” I said.

“If you want that sort of information, talk to Ruby.”

“Miss STRAIGHT AS AN ARROW?” I asked incredulously.

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

I ran into Ruby in the ladies room when no one else was around. I had known that she was very quiet and didn’t reveal much during conversations, when she did have them. Hardly anyone knew about her personal life. All we knew was that she was married but had no kids.

“Ruby, do you have a minute?”

She looked surprised. “I suppose,” she said.

“I need to know some things.”

“About what?”

“There’s a rumor that you’re into some strange stuff; kinky stuff,” I offered sheepishly.

“Where’d you hear this?”

“I’d rather not say. It’s just that I want to spice things up between me and Brandon. I thought you could give me some pointers. I was thinking of playing around with some slavery games.”

She looked at me in a funny sort of way. No longer did she show a look of timidity. Rather she looked like a person who was suddenly sly and cunning. “Do you intend to top or bottom?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“Will you be a slave or a mistress?” she asked firmly.

“I wasn’t planning on anything so elaborate. I was just thinking of something a little out of the ordinary. But slavery?”

“Power exchange is so much more rewarding.”

“Really? I never thought of being a slave. Maybe that would be kind of fun,” I offered.

“You could always be the top and Brandon could be the slave.”

“Well, I can’t see Brandon as the slave so I guess I’m elected. Yes, I’d have to be the slave.”

“Fine. Then this conversation is over. Tell Brandon to contact my husband. I’ll give you his cell. Pass it onto him and have him call my husband. Don’t ask any questions about details. You’ll spoil things if you learn too much.”

“I don’t understand,” I said confused.

“You’re not supposed to understand. Your master’s supposed to make you understand, just like my master makes me understand.”

“He’s going to be reluctant to do this.”

She thought for a moment. “Let him blindfold you. It will turn him on as much as it will you.”

“Thanks!” I said, smiling.

“You should browse the web for some kinky sites too. Read a few stories and get a feel for what you’re asking for. It’s important!”

“I’ve already done a little of that. I’ll look for a few more.  Thanks,” I said.

I spent some free time looking through additonal bondage websites. Most were premium sites. I didn’t want to spend money and the sites seemed geared towards horny men anyway. A few sites were informative and were far more interesting. There were a lot of pictures of gagged and bound women. I was surprised at how quickly I lost my revulsion for such scenes.

I decided to narrow my search to bondage stories and found a number of sites that offered all sorts of literature. There was even a site specializing in bondage called bdsmstories.com. I couldn’t spend a lot of time on it but made a point to visit it later after I got home.

I didn’t approach the subject until later that night. Brandon was looking bored as he sat in his leather chair watching a game show. I smiled at him and climbed into his lap. We enjoyed a sweet, delicious kiss. “I love you so much,” he said as he pulled me close.

“I was talking to a friend today about how to spice things up between us. Do you know Ruby in Purchasing?”

“Yes….” He said with a wild look in his eyes. “You were talking to Ruby?”

“You sound like you already know what Ruby’s into,” I noted.

“I do.”

“Can we try some of that stuff?”

“You want me to tie you up?”

“Yes. But I want to carry it beyond that. I want something that will bond us and make, oh I don’t know, make things more exciting.”

“You want to be a slave,” he said.

I stared at him and it hit me. “Yes,” I said.

“Are you sure you know what you’re asking for? I get the feeling that you’re looking for a lot more than simple games. You’re talking about a lifestyle adjustment. This isn’t just kinky sex,” he warned.

“I read some stories on the internet. If we do this, I think we’d be closer. I figure that if I’m bound and helpless I have to trust you even more than I do now. There’s something that makes me hot when I think of it. Make me your slave. You’ve got excellent instincts. You know what I want. You always have. Come up with something.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Ruby said you should call her husband and get some pointers. She also suggested that we try something light to test the waters. She said you should blindfold me the next time we make love. I bought a couple silk scarves if you want to do it,” I said smiling at him and nuzzling closer.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

We walked into the bedroom. As I started to take off my blouse he stopped me. “I’ll do that in a minute. Where are these scarves?”

I pointed them out to him and he laid them on the bed near the pillow. “Sit on the side fo the bed and keep your hands on your lap.”

I was so excited! My blood raced as he wrapped a scarf around my eyes. “Oh!” I said.

“Shhh! Don’t talk. Let me handle everything. You need to trust me.”

“OK.”

“Don’t talk,” he said more emphatically. “Just nod or shake your head.”

I nodded.

“I’ll be right back. I want you to sit like this for a few minutes. Let the anticipation build.”

I nodded again. I listened as his fading footsteps signaled his departure.

I just sat there and waited. The desire to be attended to built to a crescendo. I had never felt so hot before in all my life. And we hadn’t even started! I didn’t know what he was going to do with me. But I trusted him. He really did love me. And oh how I loved that man!

My senses perked. I could smell things. My perfume didn’t hide my own body odor any longer. I could smell both distinctly. I could smell the sheets I sat on and the oak night table. And I could hear. I heard the central air and the wind. I swore that I could almost hear the leaves rustle on the tree just outside the window. My fingertips could feel the individual threads in my skirt. I wanted to move my hands but resisted the temptation. I wanted to do only what he commanded.

“Uh!” I reacted as my cheek was touched by his ice cold wet finger. With all my heightened senses, I was surprised that he could slip into the room without my noticing him.

“Don’t talk,” he reminded me.

I nodded.

He kissed me and I responded in kind. It was a long, sensuous kiss that made my heart race. I felt chills down my spine. It was as if the darkness that was thrust upon me made me see things I could never have imagined. He was leading me down a path that I could not have envisaged in all my dreams.

He began unbuttoning my blouse. I started to help but he gently brushed my hands away. “I’ll do everything. I want you to do absolutely nothing,” he said as the last button was released. The blouse slowly slipped off my shoulders and was tossed somewhere. A moment later my bra was removed.

He took my right hand and lifted it. He removed my class ring. He examined my left hand then placed both back on my lap. A moment later he was down at my feet. I felt him slip my boots off. He did it slowly and carefully. I heard them tossed to the side.

I now only wore my skirt, panties, and earrings. He touched my hair and ran his fingers along my jaw. I was pushed backwards onto the bed. Soon my skirt was gone as he slowly slid it off me. And finally my panties were gone as well.

I was so ready for him. My heart was racing. My mind was focused only on him. My insides were filled with butterflies. I wanted this more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.

I felt a sudden chill as a cube of ice was placed on my left nipple. I couldn’t help but gasp as the cold wetness shocked me. It deepened the ecstasy that I felt. I was now moaning uncontrollably. I prayed for release. Instead I felt ice placed between my legs. “Oh!” I said as my body arched.

And finally he was inside me. I felt his naked body on top of me. The emotion, the passion all built to the ultimate climax as our minds and bodies melded into one entity. Every fantasy I had ever dreamt paled in comparison to this moment.

An hour later we sat on the bed, my head on his shoulder. The scarf was gone. Soft music was playing. “You were wonderful,” he said.

“You were too. I always knew you were creative.”

“I can’t take credit for this. I saw it in an old movie. You ever hear of 9 1/2 weeks?“

“I think it was before my time. They do anything else that was as exciting?”

“No. But I have some ideas how to make things interesting.”

“I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be yours forever,” I said.

He smiled and stared at me for a moment. I craned my neck and kissed him. “Do you really want to be my slave?”

“Yes. Absolutely. I want to prove to you just how much I love you.”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Let’s get married,” I said suddenly, almost surprising myself with the request.

He thought for a moment then looked at me. “I’ve been hiding a secret from you and I want you to know about it before we go any further.”

“What sort of secret?”

“I know Ruby’s older sister. We lived with each other for a few years.”

“Really? How long ago was that?”

“Oh, I think it was around ten years ago.”

“I don’t care. It’s ancient history.”

“Ruby’s entire family is into bondage and domination games. They gave me an education in the subject. So, if you want to be dominated, I can do it. But you have to understand that I’ll do it my way.”

“I trust you.”

“Even if it sometimes will be unpleasant?”

“You won’t hurt me. I know it.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Huh?”

“I will hurt you on occasion to make you focus.”

“You mean you’ll whip me or something like that?”

“Yes.”

I thought for a moment. “I still trust you.”

“I will want oral sex eventually.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then we’re done.”

“Brandon, I can’t do that!”

“It’s OK. I still love you. But we’re not going to do the slave thing, that’s all.”

“It’s disgusting! I can’t do it.”

“I’m aware that you consider it disgusting. What better way to prove that you love me than to sacrifice your comfort for something I enjoy?”

I stared at him for a moment. “Don’t make me do that!”

“If you’re going to be a slave then you’ll have to please me regardless of the sacrifice.”

I suddenly sat up with a horrible thought in my mind. “If I don’t do this you’ll leave me. Won’t you?” I said, panicked and upset.

Brandon grabbed my arms and looked me square in the eye. “What?” he asked.

“You’re going to leave me,” I cried.

“Whatever gave you that crazy idea? All I said was that we won’t be doing the slave thing. Now calm down! Jesus!”

I slowly caught my breath and tried to relax. I looked up at him and realized he was right. I just panicked. “I’m sorry,” I said wrapping my arms around him.

“Try and get some sleep.”

I crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling. “You didn’t answer my question. Are we going to get married some day?”

“You know, it’s a man’s prerogative to ask.”

“You’re ducking the question.”

He pulled himself up and placed his face over mine. “If you’re asking if I’m ever going to propose to you, I’d say there’s an excellent chance. Is that good enough for you?”

“Not really. But I suppose it’s the best I can hope for.”

“Until we get this slavery thing settled, that’s as far as I’m willing to take it. Get some sleep.” One final kiss ended the evening.

The following morning I woke up early and lay on my side of the bed staring at him. I wanted to please him so badly but that oral sex thing kept getting in the way. It dominated all my thoughts. I needed to talk about it. The topic was too sensitive to discuss it with anyone, including Brandon. I just didn’t know who to turn to.

I slipped out of bed and took a shower. The commotion must have woken him because he was sitting in his shorts on the edge of the bed. “Good morning,” I said as I took the towel to my short blonde hair.

“Good morning yourself. Feeling any better?”

I walked over to him and kissed him. “Better? Oh! Yea. I’m sorry I lost it last night. I’m fine. I’m more than fine,” I said as I sat in his lap and wrapped my arms around him.

“Let me get showered. I have a meeting at ten and I have some stuff I have to take care of first,” he said, kissing me afterwards. “Did you really enjoy the blindfold thing?”

“More than you could possibly imagine.”

We nuzzled a bit more then he stepped into the bathroom. While he was in there I got dressed in a fairly casual outfit consisting of a pair of long black pants, a cotton blouse, and some low heels. Then I walked downstairs and started the coffee. We had some time before we had to leave for the office so I made breakfast which consisted of a couple stacks of pancakes and some fresh strawberries. He really appreciated the effort.

We drove to work together in my Saturn, leaving the gas guzzling Hummer in the circular driveway. He let me drive since he didn’t like my car very much. He loved the big stuff and didn’t care about wasting gas.

“What am I going to do about this thing?” I offered vaguely.

“Thing?” he asked.

“You know. The oral sex thing.”

“Nothing,” he said. “We’re not doing that stuff. You said you wouldn’t so I’m not going to press the matter. If you don’t want to do it we won’t.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know. I explained this before. The direction you want to follow must be an all or nothing path.” He turned toward me as we approached a red light. “I love you. If you’re going to only obey me when you want to then it’s not going to work. Obedience corresponds to trust. If you can’t obey a command it tells me you don’t trust me. If you can’t commit to that level of obedience then we’ll live our lives in the vanilla world. And I’m fine with that because I really do love you.”

He kissed me and told me the light had turned green.

“You know, I understand. I want this so badly but it’s so frustrating.”

“You’re obsessed. I can see it. Let’s not talk about it. Go talk to Ruby. She should be able to help.”

“I can’t discuss this topic in front of her!”

“She’s heard it before.”

“Ok, maybe I’ll catch her somewhere private.”

We parted company in the elevator, I heading to Accounting and he traveling up to the eighth floor. I could see Ruby’s cubicle from my desk and I fought the urge to go talk to her. I was backed up with work so I had stuff to keep my mind off the topic. Still, it haunted my thoughts, distracting me and causing me to make errors that I’d not normally make.

Around ten o’clock she headed to the bathroom. I followed, trying to catch her alone. Fortunately the bathroom was empty, both stalls were open and nobody was in them. While we were washing up I broached the subject.

“We did the blindfold thing like you suggested,” I told her.

Her reaction was subdued. I saw in her reflected image a quick hint of a smile. “It was wonderful,” I told her.

“Yes. I thought you’d like it.”

“I need help though.”

“I figured you would. What would you like to know?”

“Brandon won’t do the slave thing unless I, ah, you know.”

“I don’t know. Does he have some kinky thing he wants to do with you?”

“He wants me to use my mouth.”

“Oh, I see. It must bother you a lot. You can’t even call it what it is, can you?”

“He wants me to give him oral sex.”

“No, he wants you to suck his cock. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it.”

“I can’t.”

“So don’t suck his cock. What’s the big deal?”

“I want to be his slave. He won’t let me unless I do this for him.”

“That’s fair. If you can’t give him everything he asks for how could you be his slave?”

“He said pretty much the same thing. I guess I just don’t associate one with the other.”

“That’s one of the things you’ll learn as a slave. Everything is linked to pleasing your master. There’s no saying NO. If you really want to be a slave you’ll have to surrender to him totally.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was sixteen. My sister, Sheena, got me into it. Brandon lived with her for three years.”

“Did you, you know, right away?”

“Suck cock? Yea. I remember it being really traumatic the first time. But after doing it to my boyfriend daily for a week I got the hang of it. Repetition will make things easier.”

“Huh?”

“Suck him off daily and you’ll get used to it quickly. If you treat it like some sort of moral law that you’re breaking then it will not go very smoothly.”

“I have to get back to work,” I said as I tried to run away from the information she was giving me. But at least I had an idea what I was in for. “Oh my God!” I thought. I just realized that I was thinking in terms of doing it. By the time the day had ended and I was in my Saturn with Brandon beside me, I had made my decision. I was going to do it. I didn’t know how. Maybe I’d need his help. But I was going to at least try.

Phase II: Gathering the Raw Materials

“I’ve decided to do it,” I told him at dinner.

He looked up at me and put down his fork. “Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

“I’m so nervous about this. But if that’s what you want, I’ll find a way to do it.”

“OK,” he said. We joined hands across the table. “I knew you’d find a way.”

“So, what do we do now?” I asked, hoping that he wasn’t going to make me get on my knees right here and now.

“Finish dinner. I’ll go over a few rules with you.”

“OK,” I said with a sense of curiosity.

“There are two elements I want to establish. First I want you to wear something as a symbol of ownership.”

“You mean like a ring or something like that?”

“Not a ring. Someone might think we’ve slipped out and gotten married. I’d suggest something gold though. You have to buy it yourself and it has to be visible to everyone. It can be a necklace, a pair of earrings, a charm bracelet or perhaps a pendant or a pin. You’re going to wear it every day for as long as you’re a slave. “

“A pin might work.”

“Let’s just say that you have to wear something gold in plain view. It just can’t be a ring.”

“OK. Is that all?”

“No, we’re also going to set a rule on high heels. From this point forward you cannot let your heels get closer than two inches to the floor. And if you want me to have sex with you, wear at least four inch heels. The only time you’ll be allowed to go without heels is if you’re exercising or if you’re in the bathroom. The higher the heels, the more horny I’ll know you are.”

“You do like heels, don’t you?” I said smiling.

“You should take out all your shoes and box up anything that doesn’t conform.”

“I’ll work on it this weekend. You know, I don’t have any big shoes, at least none that are as big as you’re talking about. Maybe I should go shopping tomorrow.”

“It is the weekend. Maybe I should go with you and give you some ideas.”

“I’d like that!”

I didn’t sleep much that evening. Not that Brandon helped. He kept me occupied for quite a time. We didn’t do anything nearly as elaborate. We huddled close and kissed. But we didn’t have sex. Sometimes I liked these quality moments more than the hot and heavy times. Then again, the hot and heavy times were pretty good too!

The following morning was spent wandering the local mall trying to find the perfect slave’s token. Everything I saw was just not right. And then I saw it. It was in Dunbar’s Jewelry. He had this cute gold butterfly, a tiny pin that was exquisitely molded and holding four small diamond chips. I had to have it. The cost was outrageous. Brandon paid for it along with a new set of gold hoop earrings and a gold chain that he had fitted tight to my neck, like a choker. When we had left, we were three thousand bucks lighter than when we walked in. And we still hadn’t purchased the shoes.

Earlier in the day we had gone through all my shoes. I really only had four pair that were even remotely acceptable. I had to box eight pair of shoes, all of which were flats or low heeled affairs. I really only needed two or three pairs of stilettos and perhaps a pair of high heeled boots. The stilettos were a hundred bucks a pair. We hit four stores before we found one that carried boots with five inch heels. But when I tried them on they were uncomfortable so we passed on them.

“We’ll have to try mail order,” he said.

“Why don’t you just take me to a city that has a better supply?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I’ve never been to Manhattan. I could use a vacation.”

“That sounds like a great plan! Besides, the next step is going to be bondage gear and it would be better if someone measures you for the outfits I want for you.”

“You want to tie me up? Kinky!” I said smiling.

“Trust me. I want to do much more than tie you up!”

“I bet you do!”

It’s nice having the CEO vouch for you when you want a few days off. Brandon was able to arrange a flight out of Raleigh to New York on Wednesday. We’d be returning on Sunday. While it was short notice, the accounting department was pretty large and covering for me was no big deal.

We arrived in New York around noon and proceeded to the Hilton near Times Square. Brandon had everything already set up. We ended up on the twenty-eighth floor and the view was breathtaking.

“You’ve never been here before,” he commented.

“No. It’s so busy!”

“That it is. Let’s get unpacked. I know this restaurant…”

The first day was a move-in day. We had dinner and scanned the nearby area on Broadway for potential tourist attractions. We spotted a couple venues that seemed promising. “I have tickets for Cats on Thursday night,” he told me as we passed by the theater.

“Awesome,” I replied. “So do you have any idea where we’re going to go for this stuff?”

“I have a few promising leads. We’ll check them out tomorrow.”

We entered the elevator alone. “You’ve done this before,” I accused. “Keeping little secrets isn’t nice!”

“Well, you never gave me any indication that you were so curious. I decided when I met you that, as much as I enjoyed it, that kinky play wasn’t as important as your affection.”

“So, you chose me over your fantasies?”

“I’m living a fantasy,” he said as he pulled me close and kissed me. I giggled as the doors open to a waiting eighty year old man.

“Sleeping in” meant staying in bed till nine in the morning for us. We usually had to be up by five when we were going to the office. We made good use of the time if you catch my drift.

It was a hot August day. With it being oppressively hot and humid, I decided to wear cutoff jeans and sneakers. I wore a tank top too. Brandon approved.

“So, where are we going first?” I asked as we exited the restaurant where we had each consumed unbelievable amounts of pork fat and eggs.

“Luigi’s Bondage Emporium,” he said.

“Oooookay,” I said in an exaggerated, comical tone.

“I’ve done a lot of work with him. What he can’t get shipped in, he can make himself. He’s an amazing artisan.”

“I’m game. Where is it?”

“Three blocks from here. We’ll walk.”

“In New York? I don’t want to get mugged!”

“You watch too much television,” he chided. “Let’s go.”

I can’t exactly say where the place was. It was just off Broadway. “Looks small,” I noted as we approached the narrow storefront.

“Don’t be fooled. The store is huge.”

“It’s only twenty feet wide!”

“You’ll see.”

We entered the store and found a short Chinese gentleman dressed in a traditional business suit. He immediately recognized Brandon. “Hacker!” he yelled in his broken English. “I thought you dead!”

“You wouldn’t be so lucky!”

Turning to me, he introduced the Chinese man. “This is Luigi. He’s the best outfitter in the country. What he doesn’t know about outfitting isn’t worth knowing.”

“Is that what you call it, outfitting?”

“Either that or leatherworking. Are you the slave?”

“I guess so.”

Luigi looked strangely at Brandon. As if reading his mind he offered, “She hasn’t been initiated.”

“So, this is your first fitting?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Come with me.”

We started walking back past the multitude of kinky gear. Countless harnesses, boots, gags, and skyscraper heels adorned the walls. There was barely enough room to walk through the store, both from the stock and from the outrageously dressed clientele. There were a lot of women in leather outfits. I’d say that the women outnumbered the men three to one.

“Luigi’s an Italian name,” I noted as we walked to the back of the store.

“I’m only half Italian,” he noted.

“Don’t ask him which half,” Brandon warned.

“It’s OK,” Luigi offered. “The bottom half!”

It took a second for me to catch the nonsensical humor. Then I just had to laugh out loud. I immediately knew that Luigi would be fun to deal with.

“So, what can I get my old friend,” he asked as he made a sharp turn to the right and walked through a door and into the building next door. It was now obvious that Luigi’s Emporium was at least twice and possibly three times as wide as it appeared on the outside.

“Well, we’re in the mood for some boots,” Brandon said.

“Come with me,” he said as he turned right again and started walking back toward the front of the building.

We came upon a large area of the store where countless shoes and boots were on display. The shoe section was almost fifty feet long and stretched from one side of the store to the other. You couldn’t get to the rest of the gear without walking past countless displays of stilettos, spiked heeled boots, and even en-point ballet boots. “This is an amazing collection,” I complimented.

“It’s our greatest draw,” Luigi said. “It how I started, a little Italian shoe maker,” he said in his broken Chinese accent.

I laughed at his obvious attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Here he was, a sixty year old Chinese man claiming to be an Italian shoe maker. It was absolutely hilarious!

“So, where do we start?” he asked us.

“I think we’ll go from short to tall. We’ll start with some tall shoes and work our way into the boots.”

“What size are you, Dear?”

“Eight,” I replied.

“Hmmm, how tall are you, five-ten?” he asked.

“Six-one,” I replied.

“She can take a six inch spike,” he said.

“Six?” I asked.

“She’s never worn big shoes before.”

“Never?” he asked.

“Well, maybe once or twice. But not in a few years.”

“I have just the thing,” he said, leading us to a small rack of ankle boots. “These are starter boots. You’ll notice they go half way up the shin. They feature a five inch heel and fully laced ankle support. The toe area is heavily cushioned for comfort and it has a deerskin upper. I have patent black, bone white, and navy. I have red on back order.”

He handed the shoe to me and I examined it carefully. I immediately noticed the extraordinary shine and the severely pointed toe. “They’re very well made,” I noted.

“Thank you. It is one of my first creations.”

“You made this?” I asked.

“I told you I was a shoe maker.”

“Do you have my size?”

“Yes, but I’d suggest one size larger than usual. These boots wear tighter than you’re used to. I’ll be right back.”

Luigi brought out three boxes and placed them on the bench. “I brought out size nine standard, nine wide, and nine and a half normal. Let’s try the smallest first.”

He slipped both boots on me and spent a long time working on the laces. “We can add hasps and padlocks to them if you’d like,” he offered. My eyes went wide with that piece of news. I never imagined being locked in heels!

With Luigi’s assistance I stood up and immediately fell into his arms. “Careful,” Brandon warned. I regained my balance and tried to take a few steps. Luigi held my hands until I got my legs under me.

“How do they feel?” Brandon asked.

“They’re a little tight on my left small toe. And they’re crowding my big toe on my right foot.”

“Let’s go with the largest one then,” Luigi offered. After a few minutes I was walking in 9 ½ boots. And they actually weren’t difficult to navigate in.

“I like them,” I told him.

“You heard the lady,” Brandon said.

“What color do you want?”

“Let’s go with the black and the navy. And put the red on back order.”

Luigi picked up a clipboard and copied some numbers off the shoe box. “That will be eighteen hundred. Anything else?”

I was shocked! “That’s six hundred a pair,” I said.

“It’s nothing I didn’t expect. Let’s get some stilettos now, for when you get used to the five inch spikes.”

“Six inches?” Luigi asked.

“Fours and sixes,” Brandon replied.

After a brief session of walking in skyscraper heels we settled on six pairs of shoes, three in the four inch range and three in the six inch range. Total price? Over two thousand dollars!

“Knee-highs?” Luigi asked.

“I’d say three pair to start,”

There were more knee-high styles of boots than any other. The entire left wall was covered with them. All had heels five inches or larger. Some were laced. Some were zippered. Some had both! Three or four pair had padlocks and bells adorning them. And three pair were en-point ballet boots with eight inch heels. These weren’t as expensive as I had thought. For six pair we spent only fifteen hundred bucks. Two of those sets were ballet boots.

Finally we did the thigh-high set. These were distributed around the entire area. Most were along the opposite wall. Some were patent leather and some were standard leather. Most were made of dark colors but two sets were red. And then there were the hoof boots. “What are they for?” I asked.

“Ponyplay, “ Luigi informed me.

“You mean they’re for turning girls into horses?”

“Yes,” Luigi replied. “You must have seen these before,” he said.

“Let’s fit her for three pair,” Brandon said. “Give us a nice assortment of colors in the five, six, and seven inch varieties. That style over there with the laced front will be fine. Black and red will work for starters.”

“You’re going to make me into a horse?” I asked.

“Among other things, yes. It will be good for you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “OK, I guess.”

We picked up three collars, one made of steel with a leather lining, and two ornate leather collars, one that was four inches wide. When Luigi fitted it to my neck I couldn’t lower my chin or move my head at all! “Perfect,” he offered.

There were a number of leather harnesses that Luigi recommended. The harnesses were no big deal. They were simply riveted straps for the breast, and torso. Luigi took a number of measurements and promised that he’d personally construct the harnesses himself.

We traveled to the next section. “Armbinders?” he asked.

“What are those?”

“They hold the arms out of the way,” Brandon said. “Show us what you have.”

“We have the loose ‘V’,” he said, holding up a V-shaped piece of leather with black straps hanging from it.

Brandon took it from him and asked me to turn around and put my hands behind my back. I wanted to panic as he slipped it up my arms. It felt loose, even after buckling the straps across my chest. “How does it feel?” Luigi asked.

“OK, I guess. It’s a lot more comfortable than I expected.”

“It’s made for long term use.”

“What else have you got?” Brandon asked.

“This is the finger to elbow sack,” he said as he picked up something that resembled a leather shopping bag. “Again, this is for long term use.”

“We’ll take one of each,” he said.

“The bill of goods is getting pretty large,” Luigi noted.

“This morning I deposited fifty grand in my account. That should more than cover it.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” he noted with a smile. “Oh, we just got these in. I have new close elbow binders. It’s similar to the triangular one but has a much narrower pouch. I think she’s flexible enough to handle it. I only have this one. It’s a little larger than average but it should work well for her.”

“I like the red color,” Brandon said as he took it from Luigi. “Let’s make sure it fits,” he said as he held it behind my back. I reluctantly slipped my hands into the tight pouch at the bottom of the binder and allowed him to close the zipper. Two straps were pulled tight, one around my wrists and one around my elbows. I can’t imagine how Luigi could think that it was too big for me. As far as I was concerned, it was tight.

“I don’t like it!” I said.

“You have to develop your flexibility. The fit looks just about right. We’ll need to shorten the length a bit though,” Luigi said.

“You look hot in that!” Brandon said.

I smiled. “Please take it off.”

“Let me take some measurements first,” Luigi said.

I thanked God that he finally removed it. By that time my fingers were tingly.

“Isn’t there a danger with that?” I asked.

“You may get some numbness in the fingers but as the tendons and muscles get used to the stretch they’ll relax and circulation will return. You should make her wear it daily for at least fifteen minutes a day. After two weeks, increase the time to an hour. After a month, she’ll be able to use it for at least four, maybe as many as eight hours without difficulty. I have training binders too but I don’t think you need them. As you gain flexibility the elbow space can be tightened. She’s almost there now. It shouldn’t take more than a couple weeks to get her elbows to touch. They were only two inches apart.”

“But my fingers went numb!” I argued.

“That would have gone away if you had worn the binder daily as I mentioned. In a few days your muscles would have adapted.”

“If you say so. You seem to know your business.”

“I have been an outfitter for nearly forty years. You must trust me.”

“He does know his business. We’ll take two of that style; blue and red. What else?”

“I have a special arm binder that I’m a little reluctant to sell. It takes a different flexibility.  I’ll show it to you if you’d like but I need to test your friend to see if she’s supple enough.”

“Go ahead,” Brandon said

“Place your hands behind your back and touch fingertip to elbow.”

As I did so, Luigi placed the back of his hand against my left palm and started to lift. “Try and hang on as long as possible.

“OK,” I said.

“Excellent. You’re able to place your left hand vertical without too much trouble. Now, try and keep your hand still as I pull mine away.”

“OK,” I replied.

When he pulled away he pointed out to Brandon the stretch in my shoulder muscles. “From what I see, her left arm passes with flying colors. Let’s try the other.”

He assisted me in lowering my arm, supporting it so I didn’t pull a muscle as I lowered it. Then he repeated the same process with the right.

“She’s a little tighter on the right but I don’t see any reason that she couldn’t wear this binder. Would you like to have her try it on?

“Sure,” Brandon said with a glint in his eye.

Luigi brought me over to this metal figure whose hands were bound behind its back in the backward prayer position. On the back was a pouch that contained the hands in a palm to palm configuration. “I’ll show you how it goes on,” he said, removing the blue leather outfit.

“You’ll notice that there is a triangular bag that unfolds into an hourglass shape. Along the upper half there are sleeves to hold the upper arms. Also note the zipper that runs along its length between the arms. This allows the arms to be inserted while parallel to each other. So you have your slave slip her arms in. Then you close the zipper. This pulls her elbows behind her back slightly. Then you pull her hands up into the prayer position and slip them into the center pouch, which closes with this zipper. Then the bottom half of the bag is pulled up and zippers are closed along the upper arms and along the shoulders to seal them in place. Finally, there is a leather cap that goes over the shoulders and is strapped across the chest to hide the seam. It has a built in collar as well.”

“You can’t be serious! No girl is that flexible. She’d have to dislocate her shoulders.”

“Not true. The position is actually easier to attain than the close elbow binder I just showed you. You could wear one right now.”

“I think it would be good to see if this one fits you,” Brandon said.

“I”ve changed my mind. I’m not putting that on!”

“Not much of a slave, is she?” Luigi commented.

“She’s new,” he argued.

“I don’t think she has the adventurous element. You sure you want to go through with this?”

Brandon looked at me. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” I said.

“Is Luigi right? Can you do as you’re told without question? Do you have the adventurous spark in you or are you only going to disappoint me?”

“This isn’t fair! I’m not your slave yet.”

“True. Then again, you haven’t shown me that you’re willing to do the things that aren’t fun for you but are for me. So, if you’re serious about being my slave, put it on,” he demanded.

“Please don’t make me,” I pleaded.

He walked up to me and just stared at me. The power of his silence was overwhelming. I turned around and put my arms behind me. “OK, just relax. Now, slip your arms into the sleeves,” Luigi said.

My arms went in at a slight angle. I heard a zipper close. Luigi guided my arms into the proper position so that my arms were forced to cross behind my back. “Now comes the hard part. I’ll do the left arm first. Now, slowly lift your left hand and keep your palm flat. Let me help you,” Luigi said. “Pay attention to how I do this,” he said to Brandon. “How are you doing?”

“I’m OK,” I said as I felt my palm rest against a piece of flat plastic. Luigi brought my other palm to rest against the other side of the palm shaped plastic divider, sandwiching it between my hands. Then the zipper was closed along the seam, sealing my hands in a vertical pouch behind my shoulder blades. The arm bag was closed, the shoulder pieces were draped over and my neck was surrounded by a red leather collar. Finally the straps were run across my chest between my breasts.

“OK, it fits. Now, can you take it off?”

“We’ll leave it on until after we’ve fit you for your other gear,” Brandon said.

“What? No, please, take it off!” I pleaded.

“Don’t make a scene,” Brandon chided.

“I don’t care. Please,” I cried.

A woman walked past and noted my crying. “New slave?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Brandon said, embarrassed for me.

“Typical,” she commented. “You’re not very committed to your master, are you?”

“What?” I asked, insulted by this unknown woman.

“Your master asks you to put on a binder and all you do is bitch and cry. Hell, if you were my slave I’d kick you out on your ear in a second! You’re not much of a slave as far as I can see.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“My name, dear lady, is Mistress. That’s all you need to know. If you want to be a slave, you damn well should act and look submissive. As a slave, you have two choices. Either say yes to everything your master asks of you, or get the fuck out and go find some plain vanilla nerd to mooch off of.”

“You have no right! Who the hell do you think you are? I belong to Brandon and you don’t have any right!”

“You are correct,” Brandon said, trying to calm me down. “You never met Ruby’s sister, did you?”

“Huh?”

“This is Mistress Sheena. We used to live together.”

My jaw dropped.

“If you stand like that for too long, we’ll fit you with a ring gag!” Sheena quipped.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Sheena said. “You needed to be straightened out; perhaps not in such an outrageous tone but you certainly need to understand your role as a slave.”

“I don’t like having my arms bound like this!”

“As I said, as a slave you’ll have to sacrifice your comfort for my pleasure. This is one way you’ll be expected to sacrifice.”

As best as I could, I shrugged my shoulders and kept my mouth shut.

“Thanks Sheena. I didn’t expect you to be here. I thought you were still in Atlanta.”

“Atlanta is too dangerous. New York is more my style. I come here about once a month. Rudy wears out gear like you can’t imagine. Hey, I have to catch a plane. I’ll catch up with you sometime in the near future. I’d like to see how this one comes along.” She disappeared into the crowd carrying a leather shopping bag.

“Gags?” Luigi asked, drawing our attention away from the retreating Sheena.

“Yes, we’ll need a few different varieties. I’d say a bit and bridle, a ball gag head harness, two or three plain ball gags, and a couple O-rings. Am I missing anything?”

“Penis gag?”

“Good idea,” Brandon said. “Can I get that in a harness as well as a simple strap?”

“Not a problem. Do you prefer clear face or inverted V?”

“I don’t think the clear face version would look right on her. Let’s just go with the inverted V styles. We can always get a couple clear face versions later. I do like the way the angled straps divide up the slave’s face. What else?”

“I think we should measure her,” Luigi said. “No use taking chances. No use guessing what ball she can hold.”

“Of course,” Brandon offered.

“How are the arms?” Luigi asked as he played with the straps of a ball gag harness.

“They’re numb,” I said, breathing heavily.

“Let us know if anything changes, he said as he brought the gag to my mouth. “Open,” he said.

The gag was inserted and the straps tightened around my head. The inverted V went from my forehead to the corners of my lips, where straps pulled the ball deep inside. Every buckle except the chin strap was pulled tight. The chin strap remained loose.

“Open your mouth as wide as you can and pull back your lips,” Luigi demanded. When I did, he pointed out, “This is an inch and a half gag. Open wider, dear,” he asked politely. “A penlight was pointed towards my mouth and both men looked carefully inside. “She’s got at least three quarters of an inch combined top and bottom,” Luigi said. “Let’s try something a little bigger.

There was some sort of connector at each corner of my mouth that required a tool to release. Luigi pulled the ball out of my mouth and set it aside. He opened a drawer and pulled out another red ball. “Open,” he ordered.

I hadn’t realized just how big the new gag was. Once it was behind my teeth he quickly fastened  it in place. “Now let’s see what we have.” Again the light was shone into my mouth and I was urged to open wider. The ball was so big that I couldn’t.

“Excellent. Two and a quarter looks to be perfect.” My eyes popped open as he buckled the chin strap. “Yes, the fit is perfect!”

“Mmmph,” I moaned.

“Yes, I know. Once we finish shopping I’ll let you out of this.” I whimpered in submission.

“While she can handle the big gag, I’d recommend something a little smaller, perhaps one and three quarters.”

“Give us a nice assortment. Do you need to measure her for bit and bridle or any of the other gags?

“No. This one fits so well that I can take measurements off of it. I’ll make sure you get a nice collection.”

“Thank you. So, what does that leave?”

“Well, we covered everything except hoods, wigs, skirts, and impact gear, you know, whips and paddles.”

“Let’s see the wigs,” Brandon said.

My bound form followed them for some distance to the front of the second building where a series of wigs were displayed. They were of all styles, colors, and lengths. Using me as a mannequin, Brandon started placing long haired wigs on me. After playing with the wigs for a minute or two he told Luigi to remove my gag and bridle. I was so grateful. “Better?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Do your fingers still tingle?”

“Yes,” I said. “But not as bad. I’m OK.”

“Which one do you like?” he asked.

“Which one do you like? I’m the slave,” she said.

He put the long black wig on my head and adjusted it to his liking. When I turned around to look in the mirror I saw a seductress with her arms bound. I could easily imagine some provocative makeup, some ruby red lips, and an evil pair of made up eyes. “I’ve never had long hair as an adult.”

“Give us one of each. Make the hair a foot longer if you can,” he said.

“That would put it down to her ass,” Luigi argued.

“I know. Do you think you can take care of these? They need a lot of combing.”

“If you get them I’ll treat them like my own children! Thank you,” I said.

“Let’s fit the skirts and the hoods. I already have a set of crops and paddles.”

We walked back towards the rear of the store and entered yet another section of the building. After thinking about it, that would have made the place nearly eighty feet wide and the length of a football field. It was bigger than most Wal-Marts!

“My arms are starting to hurt,” I complained.

“Let’s get her out,” Luigi suggested. “She’s been in long enough to get the idea. Make sure she spends at least fifteen minutes a day in each arm binder. Otherwise she’ll stiffen up and it will take a month to get her back to where she is.”

“I’ll make sure,” Brandon assured him.

“Don’t let her sleep in them though, not even when she’s used to them. She can get blood clots.”

“I know. I was under Sheena’s thumb for a year before she made me take the lead.”

“Wait a minute! You were her slave?” I asked as Luigi started removing the straps from my binder.

“That’s how you learn to be a good owner. Masters and mistresses who never bottom are almost always horrible owners.”

“I didn’t know that. And Ruby’s a slave too I’d guess.”

“From what I understand she wants it that way. A number of men have offered to be her slaves if she would only take care of them. She’s not interested.”

“Who’s her owner?”

“Sheena.”

Sheena owns her own sister?”

“Yea, weird, huh?”

“That’s not the word I would use.”

“Oh, it’s OK. Sheena and her husband treat her well. They’re rich and she gets lots of spending money and plenty of men to attend to. She’s as horny as a hamster, you know.”

My eyes opened wide. “You’re kidding. She’s so quiet!”

“That is all an act. In reality she loves to be bound, gagged, and fucked. She doesn’t want to be made loved to in a nice and gentle way. She wants it hard and heavy.”

“How do you know such details?”

“Shortly before we started dating I tried her out for a few days. She’s too rough for me. She’s an obsessive sort and I was afraid she’d end up becoming some sort of crazed lunatic that would chase me all over the place if we had to split up.

“I never saw that in her.”

“She was a porno actress. She was too good for the porn industry and not good enough for the movies. She knows how to put on a face that will make you think anything she wants. She can play people’s emotions like a violin. Be careful of her.”

“OK.”

“Luigi, I’m sorry. Where were we?”

“You wanted to look at clothing,” Luigi reminded Brandon as he rubbed the circulation back into my shoulders. He kissed me on the neck.

“What do you want to see?” he asked me.

“Can I browse the aisles a little?”

“Sure. But before we do, maybe we should look at the hoods first. Then you can hit the shelves and pick up a few things that catch your eye.”

“OK, I guess.”

“The hoods are towards the back,” he said.

He showed us a series of busts, each with a leather sheath on top. “I need to measure her, he said.

He took me to a booth. I was expecting a series of measurements with a tape. But instead he put my head against a checkered screen and took a series of pictures. During the process I had to open and close my mouth. Sometimes he made me open my mouth wide. Sometimes he made me say things just to get my mouth moving. After two or three images were flashed, he had me turn my head a little and repeated the process. “Keep turning slowly,” he ordered as the flash bulbs continued to illuminate my head. “Keep moving your mouth.  After three revolutions he stopped me and put a metal plate around my neck. It had a similar checkered pattern. Again I rotated my head as more flash bulbs when off, most of which were on top of my head, shining at an oblique angle.

Now released from the measuring booth he took me to the console and showed me the result. There I was, a 3-D lifelike image perfectly drawn right down to the mole on my left cheek. He hit the process link and the screen went blank for a moment.

“It will only be a minute,” he said as the image of myself returned.

“My head!” I declared when the door opened. “It’s an exact likeness.”

“We have state of the art robotics. They carved your likeness out of a piece of aluminum. We’ll use this for our form to make your hoods.”

“I understand,” I said bewildered.

“We make the finest hoods. Each one is comfortable to wear but restrictive enough to enhance the bondage experience.”

“You are a craftsman,” Brandon said. “Why don’t you browse? Pick up three pair of black leather pants, two skirts, one knee length and one to mid-thigh. Get some long gloves too.”

“Do you need cuffs?”

“Already ordered them from you already. I was able to get her wrist and ankle measurements and send them to you last week.”

“Oh, is that what those measurements were for?”

“Yes. I think we have everything except the clothes. Luigi, do you have a good seamstress?”

“Of course! We have a new girl who can sew a pair of pants on a dinosaur without him even realizing it. There she is! Fred! Over here,” he called to the girl.

“Yes, she asked after weaving her way through the crowd.”

“Can you help this lady?”

“Of course. What are you interested in?” she asked as she led me away.

“Brandon wants me to get a couple leather skirts and a few pair of leather pants.

“The skirts are over here. They’re pretty straight forward. Wrap one around your waste and see how it looks.”

“Why do they call you Fred?”

“My father owned a Fredericks of Hollywood franchise and named me Frederica after the store. He always said it was a typo on the birth certificate but I’m not so sure. Anyway, I’m stuck with it. Besides, I like people asking about it. It’s an interesting way of breaking the ice.”

We spent nearly an hour picking out kinky clothes. They had more leather pants than I could imagine. Some were loose fitting around the leg and some were tight to the skin. Fred suggested the tighter ones and also said that white silk went well with black leather pants. But they were so hard to squeeze into.

Fred had me look over a couple body suits. “They’re a special material. When they stretch over your body they look amazing! The tight feel turns most of our clients on to the point that they have to buy the outfits for some rather embarrassing reasons.” She smiled at me.

“Oh!” I said, suddenly realizing her insinuation.

“Do you want to try an outfit on?”

I looked at them. The red outfit caught my eye. “Sure I said, reaching for it.”

“Not that one. It’s too big for you. These are sized from the bottom up. Do you know your inseam?”

“Thirty two I think.”

“How tall are you?”

“Six foot, one.”

“That’s seventy-three inches. OK, look for an outfit that is a 32-70, or something close to those numbers. They can be as much as three inches smaller but no more than one inch larger on each number,” she said.

“Here’s a 35-76,” I said.

“Set that one aside. I can shorten the legs a couple inches if necessary. But let’s try and find one a little closer to the mark.” We looked a little more. “Here we go, 31-73, almost perfect. Here’s another one. You have your choice of red or gold. Here’s a third one. It’s blue.”

I chose the red outfit and went to a changing room. The outfit had a zipper down the back and short zippers down the calves and wrists. There was even one under the crotch, going up the small of the back. I stepped out and found Fred smiling. “I won’t have to touch that outfit at all. It’s a perfect fit. Let’s get you a pair of five inch heels and let your Brandon cream his pants!”

We walked over to the shoe area, carefully avoiding the spot that Brandon had been hovering around. Fred said that she had a couple pair of spikes in my size and that she was told to give them away to customers that spent a lot of money. So I got a free pair of stilettos. I felt like I was standing on stilts!

“Wow!” Brandon said when he saw me in my outfit. His eyes were as big as saucers as I teetered toward him in my heels.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Wow!” he said, dumbstruck by my shiny faux-skin. The red material seemed to glow under the lights. He ran his hands over my body, using the lightest touch to feel my smooth curves.

“You like it?”

“Absolutely. How many did you grab?”

“We found three.”

“Fantastic,” he said. “The fit is perfect!”

“Fred has the pants and the skirts. I hope you don’t mind. I picked up some gold chain, some earrings, and three or four silk blouses.”

“That’s great.”

“Let me get out of this and back into my normal clothes.”

“Did you look at any pvc or latex?”

“I didn’t like the loose look,” she said. “Maybe after I’m into it, I’ll change my mind. I didn’t think you would like them.”

“You might be right. Luigi, the day has been an amazing adventure. You’ll take care of the shipping and the additional items?”

“Of course,” he said. “The pleasure was all mine.”

He turned to me. “I truly enjoyed your company. You wear bondage gear quite well. I hope everything works out for you. Come back again once you’ve acclimated yourself to servitude. I’d like to see you once you have passed to the other side.”

“Other side?” I asked.

“The submissive zone,” he explained.

I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. He returned the favor.

“You should have the gear in two weeks.”

“Thank you my friend. Now, can you help me find a way out of here?”

Phase 3: Establishing Behavior Patterns and Ownership

The trip to New York was beyond my wildest dreams. The sights and sounds gave me a special appreciation for this rat race culture. The city seemed so busy compared to Raleigh. The air was electric. I kept comparing life in the Big Apple to a theatrical performance, as ordinary people worked and lived at a pace that I could only dream of! I was truly impressed.

My trip to Luigi’s was at first exciting. When Brandon refused to take the severe arm binder off, it became frightening. Of course, I loved the wigs. They made me feel so sexy. In fact, I insisted we take one with us. I didn’t want to wait for them to be delivered with the rest of the gear.

Luigi insisted I take some four inch heels with me and some of more subdued clothing like the blouses and the longer leather skirts. We were limited in how much we could return with because we didn’t bring a lot of luggage to transport the stuff back. We’d have to do a little more shopping when we got home.

We came back on Saturday, a day ahead of schedule so we could shop locally for some of the items I was hoping to find. I wanted to get some dress slacks and tweed skirts. Brandon insisted I get some outfits in his favorite red shade. I liked red too and picked up a pants suit with a nice red sports jacket. He really loved it.

I went back to work on Monday wearing my gold lapel pin and the large pair of gold hoop earrings. “Prove to me that you want to be my slave,” Brandon said at breakfast.

I was already wearing a pair of four inch heels to work. My coworkers immediately noticed my new look. I had pulled my hair back into a ponytail and applied a bit more rouge than was common for me. I really looked like I was in charge of my department. The woman I saw in the mirror hardly looked like me.

“That’s more like it,” he told me. “That’s what an executive looks like!”

“Thank you. It’s not what I’m used to though.”

“There are a lot of things you’ll need to get used to,” he quipped.

“Don’t I know it!”

Lunch arrived and I found myself ending up in the café downstairs with three of my coworkers. They included Jenna (my supervisor), Diane, and Ruby. “Heels and mousse?” Jenna asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“So,” Diane asked, “how was Manhattan?”

“It was incredible. The buildings block out the sun! Everyone is incredibly nice but incredibly busy. Everyone is going somewhere and nobody has time for leisure it seems.”

“Where did you stay,” Diane asked.

“The Hilton, near Times Square,” I told her.

“That’s near Luigi’s,” Ruby said suddenly.

My eyes went wide as Diane asked what Luigi’s sold.

“Ah, it’s the best fashion store in the area. That’s where I got this outfit.”

The group could see I was lying. Ruby found a way to cover for me. “Tell them the truth! Luigi’s is a topless pizza shop,” she lied.

“Get out!” Jenna laughed. “You?”

“What can I say? I wanted a little adventure.”

The first couple days progressed normally. Then on Thursday Ingrid, the CFO, came to visit my supervisor, Jenna. We made some small talk until her secretary waved her in. She did seem tense. Normally I wouldn’t find it particularly out of the ordinary to see Ingrid in the accounting office. But it was quite unusual for her to come in so early. That and her tense behavior made me suspicious.

My phone rang around that time. It was Brandon. “Yes?”

“HI, Hon. Can you pop up here?”

“Now?”

“If you would,” he asked politely. He seemed quite happy.

When I arrived, Brandon was sitting behind his huge desk. Sitting in a chair off to one side was the president of Dynacorp, Jason Tesla. “Hello Ellie. How have you been?”

“Well, thank you. And you?” I asked of the multimillionaire owner of our company, the leading producer of medical grade computer equipment in the country.

“I’m well. Please, have a seat. We have some matters to discuss.”

I sat down and faced both of the men. “So, what’s this about?” I asked.

“You do a fantastic job with your crew.”

“Thank you. I have a good bunch of people. They do all the work. I can’t really take credit for their success.”

“You’re too modest. I’ve heard how you subdued the infighting and got production out of an incoherent and inefficient team. You’ve done an amazing job and you deserve a reward.”

“Thank you but it’s not really necessary.”

“Oh, but I insist. I think a promotion is in order,” he informed me.

“Thank you!” I said.

“Ingrid and your supervisor Jenna are being promoted to corporate headquarters in Colorado Springs. That’s going to leave us short one CFO and one accounting supervisor.”

“I see. Well, thank you. I’m sure Jenna will help me with the transition.”

“She would if you were getting her job….”

“No! You’re not serious,” I said incredulously.

He reached behind his back and pulled out a plaque with an engraved inscription, “Eleanor Kingston, Chief Financial Officer”.

“Congratulations!”  Tesla said.

“Thank you, Mr. Tesla. I really don’t deserve this. I’m sure there are others more qualified.”

“Perhaps, but nobody has your teambuilding skills.”

“Did you know about this?” I asked Brandon.

“That was the topic of that meeting we had last week.”

“You mean you knew about it all the time we were in Manhattan?”

Brandon shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

“Ellie, let’s take a walk through the departments and make some announcements.”

The transition from indian to chief was as disorienting as one could imagine. Suddenly I was in charge of a hundred employees. They wanted things done quickly. So I picked the people that I could depend on and set them to work. Some had to do double duty. But in the end, the shuffle up the ladder was complete and relatively painless. We were fully operational when I attended my first board meeting. Brandon was so proud of me.

My friends noticed a change in me. My hairstyle changed. My wardrobe by necessity needed to be updated. But my commitment to Brandon remained solid. I proved this to him by wearing my pin, my earrings, and the tight choker when appropriate. And I always wore heels.

The heels were a particular focus of my training. For a short time I did wear two inch heels to work. But soon I realized that they weren’t stylish enough and I switched to fours. When Luigi’s first set of packages came in, Brandon would stop me at the door and insist I change shoes right there. I had to wear six inch spikes all the time I was in his presence.

Of course one cannot wear such heels for any length of time so I complained. “They hurt,” I said.

“I know. Stay off your feet. I don’t care if you walk or crawl or sit. I just want you to have spikes under your heels as often as possible. I like the look of them whether you’re standing on them or not. In fact, I’d go as far to say that I enjoy looking at them more when you’re sitting.”

“You’re weird!”

“That’s why you love me, isn’t it?”

I laughed so hard! He was a real clown. And he was right. He was weird and I did love him.

Brandon insisted over the next two weeks that I was not his slave yet. We made love to each other in the most common way, a warm and loving session each night. Two more times he used the scarves. I enjoyed those sessions immensely. When I asked him to do it more often he said it would cheapen the experience. I knew he was right so I didn’t complain.

Finally the full shipment came from Luigi’s. We had to put all the boxes in the garage since there were over thirty items on the invoice. Brandon verified everything was there and signed for it. The big brown truck left us alone with our toys. It was just like Christmas!

“We’ll need to organize this stuff,” he suggested.

“I’m open to suggestions,” I said.

“Use the rec room. Be careful of the silk blouses. You’ll want to open those flat boxes first though.”

“OK,” I said as I grabbed one of three of the boxes. It weighted around twenty pounds. When I opened it I found four short dowels with threaded ends and three flat pieces of maple, two of which had short feet on them. “What are these?” I asked.

“Boot stands,” he said, taking the wood slats and overlapping them. The four dowels threaded into the drilled holes and held the entire thing together. The dowels were two feet long and stood in a row. The stand could hold two pair of boots. He opened a box that obviously contained a pair of long boots and was about to slip them over the poles when he realized something was missing.

“Look in the box for the pads. They go on top of the rods.” I looked in the box and found four wooden balls. They slipped over the rods.  Brandon took his fist and gave each a sharp rap with his fist.

“You’ll have to rearrange some things in your closet to get all these in. Then again, we can use the rec room as a playroom if you like. We can keep all the toys here.

“Works for me. I really didn’t expect you to buy out the store when we started all this. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure of it. Let’s get the rest of the stuff unpacked.”

We took almost two hours to unload the entire shipment. The room looked like a bondage factory by the time we got done. Everything had arrived intact. Luigi even included a few free items such as a set of paddles, floggers, and whips engraved with the words, “Brandon loves Ellie.”

“Luigi’s a doll,” I said.

Brandon just shook his head as he fingered the paddle. He set it down and took me in his arms. “So,” I asked. “When do you finally declare me as your slave?”

“Saturday morning we’ll start your training.”

“Is that when I have to, you know,” I stumbled.

“Say it. It will make doing it easier if you say what it is.”

“Suck your dick,” I muttered.

“Yes. You will do it then. Do you think you’re up to it?”

I looked up at him and forced a smile. “Yes,” I said sheepishly.

Brandon closed the rec room doors and told me to keep out. I wasn’t allowed in there until he said it was OK. He said I could use my imagination but I was not to see the stuff. It would build my anticipation and my excitement. He was right.

Friday signaled a change of routine. “Type up a slave contract,” he ordered.

“A slave contract?” I asked.

“Yes. Type up how much you’re devoted to me and how committed you are and so on and so forth. Type it up just like a standard contract just as you would if this was any other business arrangement.”

“OK,” I said as I started up the pc.

It took half an hour to put something together. It went something like this:

I, Eleanor Kingston, do hereby commit myself into the hands of my master, Brandon Hacker, to be his slave for the indefinite future. I further relinquish my body to him for his personal pleasure.  I do this freely and without reservation. I agree to please him in every way possible, understanding that I may be discipline should I fail in this task. I agree to wear whatever clothing he deems appropriate for me, to apply makeup, jewelry, wigs, or other apparel as he finds pleasing, and to speak in a manner that is as subservient and submissive as he desires.

Signed his obedient slave,

Eleanor Kingston.

He looked it over after I had typed up the one paragraph and penciled in a few items that he wanted included. The revised version had the following paragraph added:

My duties will involve the preservation of all my orifices. Whenever possible I should keep my lower orifices plugged as required and requested by my master. Should my master so desire I shall gag myself with a device of his choosing. I further agree to bind myself when ordered, to accept all bondage willingly and without complaint, and to aggressively pursue as much sexual activity from my master as possible.

I handed him the revised copy and looked up at him. “Excellent. Do you agree to this?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Without reservation?”

“Yes,” I repeated.

“Add a pair of signature lines, one for you and one for me. Title them Master and Slave. Print two copies and sign both.”

“Yes, Master.”

He patted me on the head. “Do you still have your notary stamp?”

“Yes,” I said as I sent the document to the printer.

He took the two copies and ordered me to sign them. After he signed them as well, he insisted I notarize them. I gave my oath that this was the truth and I agreed to these conditions willingly. It was overkill but I went along with it.

He had me stand. In my six inch heels I was as tall as him. It was the best kiss of my life as the papers fell to the floor. “Mmmm,” he said. “I couldn’t have picked a better slave!”

“You’re not a half bad master yourself,” I said smiling.

I couldn’t sleep a wink that night, not even after being completely worn out from having unbelievable sex with my beloved. I was horny. I was hot!. Oh how I enjoyed his attention.

“I can’t sleep,” I complained.

“Come here,” he said.

I put my head on his shoulders and craned my neck to kiss him. “I’m excited and scared.”

“Giving head isn’t dangerous,” he said in plain language.

It took me a second before I found humor in his statement.  I laughed out loud. “I am being silly, ain’t I?”

“A little. I can understand it though. I remember the first time I had to give Sheena head…”

“You did what?” I asked, sitting up suddenly.

“I was her slave for three years. What did you think I did, just crawl around and bark like a dog?”

“Oh,” I said.

“The first time I did her I was so worried.”

“About what?” I asked.

“As strange as it might sound, I was worried about what it would taste like.”

“Huh?”

“I was worried that it might make me sick and I’d throw up in front of her. Well, it tasted like salt and vanilla. She had put vanilla on her pussy. Anyway, I didn’t get sick. In fact, I sort of liked it.”

“You’re sick!”

“No, I said I didn’t get sick,” he said with a grin on his face.

“Ha, ha!”

“So what are you worried about?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s the slime.”

“You mean the semen. It’s insulting to say that my cock is full of slime. I’m not exactly the creature from the Black Lagoon.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said suddenly realizing I had insulted him. “Well, that’s part of it. I guess the fact that the same organ is used to go to the bathroom is a problem too.”

“You won’t get that. I don’t do water sports.”

“Water sports? Oh! That’s sick!”

“Yes, it’s not my cup of tea either, no pun intended. Anyway, if you know anything about anatomy, there’s no danger of that happening.”

“I’m still scared. Hold me!”

And he did.

Phase IV: Crossing the Line

   I must have slept, but for the life of me I can’t imagine how. Every minute of the night was filled with my imagining his cock approaching my mouth. Then I’d turn and look at him sleeping peacefully. I wanted him to be happy. I felt so committed to him. I had to find a way to do it.

I knew in my heart that if I didn’t follow through with my promise to please, I’d test his patience to the point that our relationship would be in jeopardy. Oh, if I failed him today I’d expect I’d get the calm lecture about disappointing him. But I seriously doubt our relationship would tolerate much more than two or three refusals. Brandon valued a person’s word quite highly. It was proof of a person’s worth to keep their word, even if they didn’t like what they were doing. I know he’d respect me more if I carried this act through.

As I lay there and stare at the ceiling I realized that I was developing some backbone. I began to think differently. When this all started I wanted to increase his devotion to me by waiting on him hand and foot. To be truthful, I really wanted some interesting side trips in the bedroom. Now, I discovered the wonderful world of domination and submission. I realized I wanted to do this more out of duty and dedication than desire. I was putting his pleasure ahead of mine.

We were early risers so it didn’t surprise me when he stirred around 5 a.m. He rolled over and I gently planted my lips on his. “Good morning,” he said.

“Mmmm,” I replied, kissing him again.

“You’re up early,” he croaked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“I didn’t sleep much,” I confessed.

“Come here,” he said. I rolled over and put my head on his shoulder. I felt so content!

I don’t know how long we stayed in bed but eventually things moved along. “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Take a shower. I’ll get what you need from the rec room. Take your time in there.”

I stepped into the bathroom, turned and closed the door smiling at him. I did it dramatically and I saw him laugh as I peeked through the thin gap before the door closed. My shower was refreshing. It distracted me from the coming events. “You’re going to be fine,” I kept telling myself as I rinsed my hair.

I emerged from the bathroom with my hair wrapped in a towel and a second towel wrapped around me.  Brandon was standing at the foot of the bed completely dressed. “What the hell is that?” I asked. He was wearing leather pants, boots, and a white shirt. A black vest topped it all.

“Something from my earlier life,” he said.

Brandon had made the bed. He never makes the bed! On that bed were the items he obviously had retrieved from the rec room. I smiled when I saw the red body suit.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked as he took me to the dressing table.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I pulled my shoulders back and looked into the mirror. I could see him standing behind me crouching over to look into the mirror at me. I took a deep breath and pulled my shoulders back saying, “Yes. I really do want to do this!” I gathered my strength to say it. The words rolled from my lips boldly, “I want to suck your cock.”

“I’m very proud of you. Now, put on your makeup and fix your hair. We’ll get it out of the way when you’re made up.”

For a second a chill ran through my body but I overcame it. “OK,” I said as I picked up the eyeliner. It took nearly a half hour to prepare myself. Brandon stood behind me, watching my every move. Sometimes he let me do as I pleased. Other times he directed me to use a shade of makeup that I usually didn’t bother with. And he made me apply mousse and pull my hair back sharply into a punky swept back style.

“You’re magnificent,” he said to me as he took me by the hand and led me to the bed.

“Thank you,” I replied as I watched him grab the red body suit. A moment later he helped me pull the zipper up my back and I was encased in the skin tight rubber.

I looked at him and was about to cry.

“Sit on my lap. You’re obviously not as ready as you think you are,” he said.

“I want to be. I don’t want to disappoint you,” I replied, putting my head on his shoulder.

“I know. You have to do this of your own free will. I’m not going to force you.”

“You’re not that kind of man,” I said. “That’s why I love you so much.”

“This is sort of like riding a horse for the first time. Once you get past the hump it will be fine. Why don’t you get on your knees? And, smile! If you really love me so much, don’t cry. Remember, you’re pleasing me. You’re making me proud! Smile!”

I really tried to smile as I dropped to my knees. “I’m ready,” I said.

“Open my zipper with your teeth,” he ordered.

“My teeth?”

“Don’t question your master’s orders,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

I placed my face against the bulge between his legs and grabbed the zipper with my teeth. It was hard to pull down. When it came free his cock hit me in the face and stood straight out.

“Open wide and lean forward.”

I did and he guided it into my mouth. I started to breathe heavy as he grabbed the back of my head and pushed me into him. “Draw it in. Work it with your lips. Slowly now, in and out. That’s a good girl,” he said.

My heart raced. I knew what was going to happen. In a moment my mouth would be filled with semen. What was I going to do with it? I had to swallow it. My mind worked quickly. I resisted the urge to bolt. Instead I did as he asked. He was my master. I was his obedient slave. I gathered more knowledge at that point. He did have a motive other than pleasure. He was subduing my will. I was surrendering to him. I was thinking of his pleasure before mine.

Now my lips moved freely along the length of his cock. He no longer had to encourage me to obey. I did it willingly. I looked up at him. “Good,” he said. “Look at me and keep eye contact.

I looked up, my mouth filled with him. His cock got harder as he encouraged me to suck harder.  I heard him moaning as the load was released. 

I can’t say it was exactly enjoyable. But I found myself capable of pulling it off. I could do this on command because I knew it made him happy. I really didn’t like this though.

I looked up at him as he pushed my head away from his crotch. Beside him he had some tissues. He gathered a wad and wiped my mouth for me. Go in the bathroom and rinse out your mouth. There’s a fresh bottle of Scope under the sink.”

“I…”

“No, don’t try to talk. Go clean up. You were magnificent,” he said.

I felt dirty, like I had just done something morally reprehensible. It was the feeling you get when you’ve done something very wrong and hope nobody finds out. And Brandon called it magnificent! I suppose that’s all that mattered to me.

“How do you feel?” he asked as I sat on his lap.

I smiled. “I did it,” I said.

“Yes. You should be proud of yourself. That was quite an accomplishment,” he commented.

“Accomplishment isn’t the word I would have used.”

“But I would, and my opinion is the one that counts.”

“OK. So, now what?”

“You need a collar,” he said. “And a leash!”

He twisted around and grabbed a leather collar. It was three inches high. “Face away from me and hold up your hair,” he ordered.

I smiled and said, “Yes, Master.”

The collar didn’t feel nearly as foreign as I had thought it would. Once it was buckled I felt focused, like this was meant to be. When he finished, I felt him run his hands along my shoulders. And that’s when I realized what I craved out of this scene. It was the extra attention that Brandon gives me that I desired.

“The collar indicates you are “in scene”. You should address me as “Master” when you wear the collar. Likewise, if you don’t wear the collar, don’t call me “Master”. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I said with a smile.

“Good. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good,” he said as he connected the leash. Put on your boots. You can make breakfast then.

“OK, Master.”

The boots were the standard training boots that Luigi had demonstrated to me. I found the heels high but comfortable. I had already worn four inch heels for a few days last week so another inch wasn’t all that bad. The stiff support built into the boots provided confidence that I wouldn’t turn an ankle. Still, walking on my toes wasn’t easy.

“We’ll just put your gloves on and then we can go downstairs.” Of course, the gloves were of the highest quality leather. They went past my elbows and fit perfectly. I considered them to be the most attractive part of the ensemble.

Brandon attached a leash to my collar and smiled at me. “You look scrumptious!” he said. “Come over here and look at yourself in the mirror.”

I took mincing steps toward the floor length mirror and was stunned when I spotted my image! I hadn’t realized how impressive my body would look in the shiny suit. My curves were all accented in a subdued sort of way. From my legs to my neck I was a smooth feminine shape. My curves seemed to stand out but weren’t so bold that they looked artificial or padded.

Brandon wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. “Impressed?” he asked.

“Mmmm,” I moaned as my body began to respond to the moment.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” he said, ending the erotic moment.

Walking down the stairs was a bit treacherous. I was thankful for the fact that Brandon didn’t yank on the leash while I was carefully stepping on the carpeted stairs. When we got within three steps of the bottom he asked me to put my hands behind my back so that I could get used to walking without the use of my arms for support. As I made the last three steps he kept a constant eye on me. I was sure that if I were to stumble, he would catch me.

I sat. He cooked. That was a change. Brandon never cooked. In this case he pulled out flour, eggs, sugar, and a myriad of other ingredients. “What are you making?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he said as he grabbed an old loose leaf notebook and began thumbing through the pages.

I saw him grab two apples from the bowl on the counter. He peeled and sliced them fine. “Get some dishes, would you please?” he asked.

He began mixing flour, baking powder and salt in one bowl. Then he separated some eggs and began whipping up a meringue from the whites. “Are you making those giant pancakes?” I asked.

“Yup! I know you liked them in New York. I remembered that I had an old recipe in my book here. I haven’t made them in years.”

“Can I help?”

“Get out the two small iron skillets. You know where they are. And heat up the broiler too, would you?”

The caramelized apples sat on top of two fluffy pancakes. Each apple had been sliced into thin crescents and arranged in the bottom of the pan with just a light sprinkle of sugar and butter. The pancake batter, more a fluffy meringue-like substance, was spooned over the apples. The pans were placed on the hot range for a few minutes. Then each pan was slipped into the oven. Let me tell you. They were delicious! I never knew that Brandon was such a fine cook. 

After Brandon cleaned up the mess he led me onto the deck. We had a beautiful view overlooking a five hundred foot high cliff. Rolling hills and valleys filled our view. A gentle breeze drifted through the screened in patio as the scent of pine filled the air.

“Red really is your color,” he told me as he held my leash.

I simply smiled at him. “So what do we do now?”

“Digest,” he said, leading me to the suspended chair next to the window.

“It’s a little chilly,” I complained.

“Are you cold?”

“In this? No. It was just an observation. You’re dressed pretty light for this weather.”

“You can keep me warm.”

Phase V: Severe Bondage

Bucolic scenery is a wonderful thing to behold while being caressed by your lover. But while I would never tire of Brandon’s attention, I can only look at trees for so long. That and the increasing chill from the steady breeze made us move inside.

“It was nice for a while,” I said.

“We should try out some of the other stuff. And I want to start conditioning your arms anyway.”

I was about to protest but remembered the scene in Luigi’s. Instead of making a fuss I just let him lead me into the den like the submissive creature he expected. I guess I just was willing to put up with the hated arm binder because it is what he expected of me. I was beginning to feel a sense of duty and responsibility. I was responsible for making him happy. I was really beginning to feel like a slave now.

I noticed that things had been rearranged as I entered. “How did you get everything organized?” I asked.

“I couldn’t sleep either last night. And apparently you did nod off for some time. I came down here and moved a few things around to make it easier to find stuff. Ah, here’s the one I want. Oh, go get the timer out of the kitchen. I think it’s a good idea to stick to Luigi’s suggestion. We’ll only use the arm binder for fifteen minutes. Are you OK with that?”

“Sure,” I said as I turned to run to the kitchen.

When I returned he held the tight black binder in his hands and told me to turn around. “Don’t you want me to remove the gloves?” I asked.

“I don’t think it will be necessary.”

“OK,” I said, shrugging my shoulders and turning around.

My arms felt the leather slip up my arms. “Press your hands into the sack,” he said as he pulled upward. I next watched as he fastened the straps across my chest and pulled the straps firmly. My arms didn’t feel too bad and I thought he was done. Then he pulled up on the zipper which wrenched my shoulders together till they almost touched. “OK?” he asked as he buckled a strap across my elbows.

“Tight,” I grunted. “But I’m OK. Do start the clock, would you?” I begged.

“Sit over there and cross your legs,” he said, pointing to a chair on the opposite side of the room from his favorite easy chair.  I was confused. He usually wanted me next to him. It was like he was pushing me away. But nothing could be further from the truth as I soon discovered.

“I’d rather sit next to you,” I offered with a smile.

“I know. But I like looking at you. Everything about that outfit turns me on. I really want to see those heels,” he said.

“Anything to satisfy your heel fetish,” I said as I turned my back on him, walked over to the armless chair and sat upright. As I crossed my legs he slouched in his black leather chair and smiled at me.

“So, is this all I have to do; be a bondage model for you?”

“Of course not. Tomorrow I plan on making you into a ponygirl. And next weekend I plan on fucking you while you’re bound and gagged.”

I looked at him strangely because I couldn’t remember him using a four letter word. “You usually don’t call it that,” I said.

“What?”

“Fucking,” I replied.

“That’s because we’ve always made love. I’ve never fucked you.”

“Huh? What’s the difference?”

“I make love to you in our bed without bonds or restrictions. You’re always a willing and cooperative partner when we make love. The other term is for everything that falls outside that realm. Understand?”

“It sounds almost like you intend to rape me.”

“I’d never do that.”

“I know. If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t have allowed you to put me in this outfit.”

“Call it simulated rape. A better term might be role playing as an unwilling female being trained to be a bondage slave.”

“So you want me to resist and struggle?”

“If you like, though, if we go that route you’ll need a safe word.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a way to signal me that you want to stop or you’re having problems.”

“Suppose I can’t talk?”

“We’ll work out a signal. It’s probably a good idea to have a safe word anyway, just in case.”

“OK.”

“If you’re gagged, grunt three times in a row. Any other time yell “stop” three times.”

“I can do that. How much time is left?”

“Six minutes. How are you doing?”

“My shoulders are sore and my fingers are numb.”

“Try and move your fingers in the bag,” he suggested.

“I don’t have a lot of mobility back there.”

“That’s the idea.”

The buzzer rang as we were talking about some of the other gear that was distributed around the room. I asked a question about gags. “I’m a little worried about the gags,” I said as the buzzer went off.

“What about them?” he said, hesitating to release me.

“Aren’t you going to let me loose?”

“One thing at a time; explain yourself,” he said.

I looked at him and realized that until we finished with this discussion I was going to stay in my binder. So I relented. “I’m worried about choking.”

“Understandable. The gags all have quick snaps. I can get a gag out of your mouth in just a second or two.”

“You won’t always be around. Suppose I’m bound and you’re not here?”

“If you’re in any sort of dangerous situation I won’t leave you, not for a second. I’ll never leave you alone and gagged. If I start to walk out, even for a second, grunt at me.”

“OK. I guess I can live with that. Now, can you get me out of this thing?”

“Sure,” he said.

As the binder slipped off my arms and I dropped them to my sides the sensation came back in a horrendous jolt. Pain wracked my arms and shoulders as the circulation returned. Brandon saw I was in distress and sat me down so he could massage my arms. After a few minutes of attention I felt much better.

“God!,” I cried out.

“You’ll get accustomed to it after a time.”

“Well, I am your slave. I guess this is part of the sacrifice you were talking about.”

“Speaking of sacrifices, I want you to give me another blow job after dinner. You select the time. Sometime between six and ten I want you to come to me and beg me. Do you think you can do that?”

I smiled. “Yes, Master,” I said as I struggled to raise my arms and wrap them around his neck.

As the sun rose higher we noticed that the temperature got warmer outside. He decided we should take a little walk. Still led by the leash he took me down the cobblestone path that had been built some years back. It was exceptionally wide. Some three hundred yards down the path was a wide clearing with a spring fed fountain. 

“One of my aunt’s best sculptures,” he said, indicating the huge swan and the water gushing from its mouth.

“I’ve never been up here before,” I said. “It’s so pretty.”

“Yea, how are your feet?”

“I could use a break,” I said.

He took me to the side of the fountain where a low wall was topped with flat rocks to form a circular bench. “Rest your feet. We have a little farther to go. You haven’t been back here before, have you?”

“I’ve been afraid of getting lost.”

“As long as you stay on the path you can’t get lost. It’s a loop. Both ends return to the cottage.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We walked a ways farther down the path to an area that looked out over a rocky precipice. It was a view even more impressive than from the deck. “How did you ever find this place?” I asked.

“My great-grandfather bought this land from the state back during World War I. The legislature of North Carolina considered it worthless woodlands so he got it for two thousand dollars. When I got it I sold half of it to a lumber company for fifteen million. Of course, I put that into stocks back in the eighties and you know the rest.”

“I don’t care about the money, you know.”

“That’s why I love you so much. We’re alike. I don’t care about the money either. I care about you.”

“That’s so sweet.”

We killed time through lunch and dinner. I stayed in my outfit the entire time. I didn’t have to endure any further bondage or restrictions. We just spent time together. Sometimes we watched TV and other times we necked. Often he would just admire me as I sat cross legged on the chair. It was one of those weird quirks that made me love him all the more.

After dinner he didn’t pursue the oral sex thing at all. Eight o’clock approached and I figured that if he was expecting it I might as well get it out of the way. So I asked him nicely, “Would you like me to do it now?”

“Huh?” he asked.

“Can I do it now?” I insisted.

“Do what?”

“You know what,” I said.

“Why?”

“Why? I thought you wanted me to, you know…”

“Stop playing games. What is it you think I want?”

“You want me to suck your cock!”

“I do?” he asked innocently.

“Didn’t you ask me earlier to beg…” Suddenly it hit me. He was playing this game to force me to beg him. He wanted me to express a desire to do it.

“Please,” I suddenly begged. “Let me suck your cock.”

Again he ask, “Why?”

“Because I want to. I know you want it and I want to make you happy. I won’t be able to forgive myself if you don’t let me. Please!”

“Well,” he laughingly relented. “OK.”

Now after begging like a slut I had to actually perform the act. I dropped to my knees and opened his zipper. His cock flipped out hard as a rock. I stared at it a second then opened my mouth. After having done this once already today it wasn’t as traumatic as I had thought it would be. Instead I almost felt proud to make him happy. After the chore was done and I had visited the bathroom to clean up, I enjoyed a wonderful kiss and hug from him. That made it all worth while.

“One last thing before we go to bed,” he said.

“What?”

“I want to put you in the reverse prayer binder for a few minutes.”

“I hate that thing!”

“I know,” he said, picking up the leather gadget.

Obediently I turned around and let him slip the thing up my arms. Once the center zipper was closed, the angled sleeves forced my arms to cross at the elbows with roughly six inches between them. I naturally bent my elbows as the zipper closed completely.

“OK, I’ll lift your right hand first,” he said as he gently grabbed my right wrist and lifted it upwards into the waiting sack. I felt the stiff divider. It didn’t feel too bad. Next the left arm was lifted and my shoulders protested. I grunted but endured as it was pressed into the waiting hand sack. I heard and felt the zipper pulled downward and suddenly I was helpless. Two zippers closed the hourglass shaped leather forming a neat triangular pouch behind my back. Finally he covered my shoulders with the adorning shoulder cap to cover the top opening.

“Look at yourself in the mirror,” he said. “You look hot!”

“I’m really sore,” I protested.

“I’m setting the timer for ten minutes.  For your introduction, that should be enough time.”

“I’m OK,” I grunted.

“You should practice this position in the office. I found out it’s actually a legitimate yoga position.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, it really is. In fact, if your secretary catches you stretching you can use it as an excuse. Just say you’re practicing a yoga position to relax your shoulders.”

We had one of those wardrobe mirrors that let you look at yourself from the side and back without moving your head. I looked in the mirror as I imagined half the staff imitating the reverse prayer position. My arms were essentially invisible. Looking from straight on, I looked like an amputee. My hands were hardly noticeable since my collar hid my fingers from view. From the side I could see my profile. Only a small portion of my fingers extended past the top of the pouch. All of the leather was tight and smooth. I could feel the stretch along my upper arms. Finally from the back the pouch was a neat triangular enclosure that seemed to fit perfectly with the rest of the outfit.

When the bell rung on the timer I realized that my arms felt relatively normal. “We can go a little longer, if that’s OK,” I offered.

“Are you sure?”

“This binder is actually starting to feel better.”

“Luigi said that some girls consider this the less severe of the two styles. I never put a girl in one of these. As long as you’re sure we’ll go a few more minutes,” he said.

“I’m fine. I must be using a different set of tendons or something like that.”

“Maybe, but let’s limit it to another ten minutes. I don’t want to push it too much on the first day.”

“OK.”

We waited ten minutes longer. My fingers went numb then the feeling seemed to return with a warm sensation. When the time was up I almost told Brandon that I could go longer. But I let him remove the binder from my arms. I appreciated the shoulder massage afterwards.

“We’ll do the harness gag now. I’m going to gag you until we go to bed. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I said smiling.

There were a series of hinged black plastic boxes that contained the gags. These were premium items and the packaging reflected this. There was an engraved relief of each gag on the cover of the boxes. Looking through the various boxes I noticed the bit and bridle, the ball gag harness, and a muzzle gag as well. I knew I’d be trying every one.

Brandon found the harness gag he was looking for and pulled it from the box. “Luigi should have sent us a box of sterilizing pads. Do you see them?” he asked.

I started looking around and found a box that had a lot of little packets in it. “Is this it?” I asked holding up the box.

“That’s it. They’re large mouthwash filled wipes. Give me one. Oh, and go get a towel from the bathroom. You’ll need it.”

I walked over to the downstairs bathroom nearby and got a small towel. Brandon ripped open the packet and took out the nine inch square cloth. It was tinted green. First he wiped the rubber ball thoroughly with the cloth. Then he wrapped the ball in it and twisted the ends around the attached leather strap. He waited ten minutes, checking his watch often before declaring the ball clean. “I think that should do,” he said as he held the ball in front of my mouth.

I obediently opened my mouth and he inserted the huge ball. “Bite down,” he said.

I tasted the mint flavor as well as the remaining alcohol as he buckled the straps around my head. The flavor quickly disappeared. Once he had finished buckling the straps, he stood in front of me and tightened the chin strap. “OK?” he asked. I nodded. OK was a relative term. I could breathe and I wasn’t choking. But my jaw ached from being stretched so wide. The two inch ball filled my mouth. I hated it.

He stood in front of me and admired it! “Magnificent!” he exclaimed. “You look fantastic. Walk over to the mirror and have a look,” he insisted.

I walked to the mirror and looked at my reflection. I looked surreal! My lips were spread wide around the red ball. I pulled back my lips and saw my teeth clenched around the orb. Every strap was taut including the ones running down the bridge of my nose. Maybe he was right. I did look good in the gag. I just didn’t want to admit it.

He looked at his watch. “Eight O’clock,” he said. “Come with me.”

He led me by the leash to the couch and grabbed the remote. “Kneel at my feet,” he ordered. “There’s a football game on I want to see. I’m a big Michigan fan. They’re playing Notre Dame.”

He put his feet up on the stool as I knelt beside him. He never let go of the leash. In fact he often pulled me closer to him in order to pet me. On many occasions while a commercial was running he bent down and kissed me on the forehead.

I felt my chin getting wet. I was drooling uncontrollably. I found that I had to use the towel often. I was grateful for the fact that my hands were free to clean up after myself. I wondered how I’d manage when I didn’t have full use of my hands.

An hour into the game I started coughing. My saliva had gone down the wrong pipe. As soon as Brandon heard the first cough he sprung into action. He quickly pulled the snaps free from the gag and freed my mouth of the huge ball.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

I nodded. “I’ll be alright. Can I have a glass of water?”

“Sure,” he said, getting up. “Maybe we should quit for the night.”

“I’ll be OK,” I offered. I just need a drink of water.”

“You’re drooling a lot. Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Eat something. That should help.”

I reverted to my favorite snack, ‘nilla wafers and skim milk. I loved soaking the cookies in the milk until they turned to a faux pudding. I watched the game from the kitchen with Brandon while he kept me company.

Before putting the ball gag back in, Brandon insisted I drink a full glass of water and then use the bathroom. It was a sound request. He seemed to know that I wouldn’t be able to clear any food particles from my mouth once gagged. And to be truthful, I did need to use the bathroom. It was just one of those things that Brandon seemed to be able to predict, I guess.

The last two hours of bondage were uneventful. Michigan lost but I survived the day of bondage. Brandon didn’t seem to mind the Michigan loss as much with me there looking at him with my harnessed face. One look at his smile told me we’d have an amazing night. And we did.

Phase VI: Ponygirl Training.

“I’m not so sure about this,” I said to Brandon.

Shortly after breakfast he had insisted I try on the gold spandex suit. The suit was a stretchy but shiny outfit that hugged my body perfectly. After looking at myself in the mirror I was impressed with the way it enhanced my curves. It reminded me of that old sci-fi show, Buck Rogers. I had spotted an episode on one of the cable channels only two or three weeks ago. I looked a lot like Wilma Dearing. In fact the spandex she wore reminded me a lot of this outfit I was wearing.

“You look fantastic,” he said. “Before you slip into the boots, let’s get you into a corset.”

“I’ve never worn one of these. What do I do?”

“Hold it against your body while I fasten the busks.”  The corset was already lightly laced in the back and it took only a few minutes to connect the hooks and posts in front. At that point Brandon made me hold onto the door jamb while he tightened the stays. And did he ever tighten them!

“Now you know why Luigi’s assistants took so many measurements. Can you breathe?” he asked.

“Barely,” I said. “Does it have to be this tight?”

“Of course,” he said. “Go look at yourself in the mirror. You look hot!”

I smiled at him as I walked over to the mirror, flaunting my protruding ass. I did look fantastic! The gold outfit and the black leather corset just seemed made for each other. I used the folding mirror to view myself from all sides. There were straps and rings all over the corset. The seams were intentionally pronounced. Half cups lifted my breasts, although they were thankfully hidden from view by the body suit. The tight pull of the stays and the bend of the boning caused my chest to bulge forward and my ass to stick out. I took on the posture of an eighteenth century southern belle. It looked absolutely kinky.

I ran my fingers along the leather, pressing the stiff material against my body. “Do that again,” Brandon demanded.

“What?”

“Stretch like you just did. Arch your back too. You look hot!”

I ran my hands over my breasts and against my belly, arching my back in the process. “Wow!” he said as I continued my act. I was getting hot. I wanted him to screw me right there! I was practically ready to masturbate if he didn’t take me.

“Fuck me,” I demanded, running into his arms. I began kissing him and begging him. “I need it so bad,” I pleaded.

Brandon’s control was beyond comprehension. How could he say no?  “After you’re in harness. Then I’ll fuck you from behind.”

“Please! I need it now,” I begged like a slut.

“Who is the slave?” he asked coldly.

“I am,” I replied.

“Who decides?”

“You do.”

“Why?”

The question caught me off guard. “Why?” I repeated.

“Yes, why is it that I decide?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Exactly. And that is why I decide when you have sex. I know how to bring you to the highest level of orgasm. If I deny you, you have to put your trust in me. If I deny you now it only means there’s something better down the road. Do you trust me,” he asked looking directly into my eyes.

I looked at him with a serious stare. Then my cold gaze softened. “Always,” I said with a smile.

Before long I was wearing the reverse prayer binder, thigh high pony boots, and a bridle with bit and blinders. Most of the gear, while new to me, was relatively ordinary in appearance. The boots took on the angle of a pair of four inch heels on two inch platforms. The heels were actually six inches long but the hooves lifted my toes a couple inches. The bottoms of the soles were slightly curved and sported rubber horseshoes. These attachments were half an inch thick. Of course I was already familiar with the binder. My arms seemed to tense when it was installed but after five minutes they seemed to relax and fall into a natural state. They weren’t even tingly. And after wearing the harness gag the previous day this new bridle wasn’t  all that different. In fact the bit was quite comfortable. Its design was ingenious. At first glance it looked like it was made of brass. In fact it was a piece of steel coated with a metallic gold colored Kevlar. And finally the black leather four inch collar seemed to set my head off perfectly.

Looking at myself in the mirror one last time I was impressed with the look. My head was held high and my chest bulged forward, stretching the Spandex as if it were inflated. My torso was boldly arched which forced my ass to protrude from the rear. I could see the zipper from the front. I was hoping that Brandon would undo that zipper soon and satisfy me. I was still hot.

Looking at my face the straps that divided it hugged my head tightly. The bit prevented me from closing my mouth but I had some use of my tongue which meant that I wouldn’t drool as much. I hated that part of being gagged.

The lines of the entire outfit were so impressive that I could understand why Brandon wanted me dressed like this. If it weren’t for the fact that my arms would go numb from the severe bondage I’d stay like this for days, just to please him. The shine and the contrast between the black leather and the gold seemed to draw my eye toward the leather and make me want to look at it. The smell permeated my senses raising my desire to have Brandon inside me.

He took me to the table and he forcibly pushed me onto it. “Spread your legs,” he demanded in an authoritative voice. As I spread my legs I felt him pull the crotch zipper backwards, opening the suit. Suddenly his fingers were rubbing my crotch. He touched my clit and I went wild. I began nodding up and down, desiring his penetration. A few moments later I felt him inside me. He was taking me from behind, something I had never experienced. It was animalistic. It was barbaric. It was amazing!

Now I felt the pleasure that only a slave can feel. Now I understood why I had to let Brandon decide when I should have pleasure. I had to submit to him. He knew my body and my desires better than even I did. It’s funny. I always knew he could predict people’s desires. But it was only today that I truly admitted that it also applied to me. He could read me like a book. But I didn’t mind. As a matter of fact, I found it incredibly wonderful!

“Stay there,” he said after he had finished. I remained bent over the table as ordered. A few moments later I heard him rip open a package. He wiped me down with a sanitary wipe. I knew he had bought them a few days ago but at the time I had no idea why. Now I understood their purpose. These giant wipes were meant for my pussy.

“Now something to keep you company,” he said in a taunting way. I suddenly felt a metal ball being inserted between my legs. Then another ball was slipped inside followed by a third and a fourth. The zipper was closed and I suddenly realized that these balls would be moving inside me with each step. “Stand up.”

Brandon attached a leash and we walked outside. “Be careful in those heels,” he warned.

The air was pleasant but had a slight chill to it. The sky was mostly clear with some fair weather puffy clouds overhead. I felt so refreshed by the cool air on my face. The wind picked up for a moment and the sound of the leaves rustling caught my attention. It was as if I could hear the wind approaching. I anticipated a much stronger wind. But when the breeze actually assaulted me it was nothing more than a puff. Still, it felt good.

Brandon led me down the path and circled counterclockwise rather than the normal clockwise route. After a short trek of roughly fifty yards we turned toward a leaf covered area between two oak trees. A low overhanging branch was pushed out of the way to reveal a secondary path that led to a red barn. He pulled out a remote and suddenly a garage door opened revealing a pair of coaches along with numerous leather items that happened to be hanging on hooks or placed on the many shelves. I was curious as he pulled me inside.

“I haven’t used these in three years,” he told me. “Andy, my gardener, has been secretly maintaining them though.”

I wanted to make a comment but I couldn’t with the bit in my mouth. I knew Andy visited every week or two but I had no idea that he was slipping back here to work on these carriages. Then it hit me. He had used these carts three years ago. I had to wonder who or what pulled them.

I found myself connected between the shafts of the smaller cart, a two wheel thing that must have weighed in excess of three hundred pounds. Looking at it I had no idea how I’d pull it. But I allowed Brandon to connect me with two clips going to my hips and two chains going to my corset near my shoulders.

After Brandon clipped a pair of reins to my bit he took his place in the seat and struck my bottom with a long riding crop. I pulled hard.

While the suit protected me from the stroke it still smarted. I’d imagine it would have hurt a lot more if my ass were naked as I’d seen in many pictures on the web. But I didn’t like being whipped at all. It made me angry. But in my current predicament I had no choice but to endure.

I was surprised how easy it was to pull the cart. It was as if it were weightless. “Lift your knees,” he yelled, giving me another stroke of the crop. I immediately started lifting my knees. “Better. Try and get them higher,” he said as he pulled on the right rein.

Soon I was trotting down the path in a counterclockwise direction. “Put a little bounce in your step but keep your knees high. Let’s pick up the pace.” I felt the reins shake and I began running, at the same time lifting my knees as high as I could. “Easy,” he yelled over the increasing wind, pulling my reins slightly until I had slowed to a pace of his liking. “Very good. Keep that pace,” he ordered.

I was now trotting in an exaggerated, almost artificial jog. I was lifting my knees and hopping into the next step. If a person on the street moved like this they would have looked idiotic. But a ponygirl trotting in this manner seemed correct and even showy. Brandon seemed to like my pace because he didn’t do anything other than guide me with the reins all the way to the cottage.

The pace seemed to make the steel balls slam together in a slow but firm rhythm. They weren’t painful but they were annoying. Every step caused them to give off a sound not unlike a bunch of billiard balls crashing together. I felt the vibration and flinched every time I heard the sound. But they didn’t hurt. They just tormented me to no end.

As we passed the cottage he shook the reins and told me to lift my knees less. “A little faster and a little less knee lift, Honey,” he ordered. “One lap like this and then one more at the slower pace.”

So my pace quickened as I stopped lifting my knees. I earned a couple swats on the ass for that. “Always lift the knees a little. Ponies always lift their knees,” he said as he hit my butt again with the crop.

The balls between my legs were now playing a musical tune as I moved quickly. While before they were maddeningly annoying, now they were absolutely unbearable as the kept banging into each other between my legs. The sound and the vibration was so loud that I imagined hearing them them echo throughout the woods. I really hated them.

By the time I had completed half a lap I was out of breath and I slowed. Whack! Brandon hit my butt hard but said nothing. He shook the reins and forced me to march. I began lifting my knees and walking. He shook my reins again and struck me again and tried to get me to run once more. I tried. I really did. I ran for perhaps fifty feet, lifting my knees halfway before tiring again.  Once more he hit me and drove me to run. Somehow I found the energy. I wanted to scream at him but I couldn’t talk. He had complete control over me and that whip forced me to obey his commands.

The whipping and short trots were repeated thrice more as he drove me to exhaustion then whipped me to start again. I knew he loved me and I trusted him. I didn’t understand why he was doing this to me. I began to cry, wondering if he was angry with me or if I had somehow triggered him into becoming a monster of some sort. Was his sadistic side so horrible that I’d end up having to leave him?

We reached the cottage to end the second lap. He pulled back on the reins and led me to a split rail fence that lined the back of the property. I felt movement and suddenly the wheels locked in place as he dismounted. “Are you OK?” he asked as he tied the reins to the fence.

I stared at him. I was so angry.

“You’re pissed at me?” he asked incredulously.

I nodded and tried said, “Vu Vastud!”

He patted my head and I pulled away. “You’re out of shape. I needed to push you. I’ll make it up to you after we’re done. I promise.”

“Dowt hit me,” I mumbled.

“I can’t help it. You need it. I’ll try to be easy on you, at least today. That’s the best I can offer.”

“I wan out,” I said suddenly.

“One more lap,” he said as he grabbed the reins. “OK?” he asked in a pleading voice as he patted my head. I looked at him wanting to remain angry. But I just couldn’t. I just loved him and the scene too much. As he pulled me away from the fence I knew I’d do my best to please him.

His promise to go easy on me was an outright lie in my opinion. The final lap consisted of a varied pace, sometimes going ridiculously slow and other time being forced to run at full tilt. He used the whip even more often than before and I really had no opportunity to argue with him. I groaned and screamed at him but I ran or trotted or slowly paced myself down the path at whatever pace he demanded. Soon we had finished that last lap and ended up in the hidden barn where we had started.

“You did absolutely fantastic,” he said to me as he unhooked me from the cart. “Let me get you inside so I can get you out of that outfit. I bet you’re horny as hell!”

So, I had to now ask myself. Was I horny or was I mad? Well, I was horny and I was angry. But I had a dilemma. Should I let him fuck me or should I just yell at him and tell him to go fuck himself? By the time we had returned to the cottage I had decided. If he was willing and I was in the mood, who was I to deny him?

Phase VII: A Hidden Life

“Mmmmph, Mmmmph.” It felt so good! I drove myself backwards, impaling myself on him.  “Oh my God!” I wanted to scream. I could only mumble and grunt. My tongue was still trapped by the bit and bridle that gagged me. Brandon kept hold of the reins, pulling me backwards even more as he thrust into me again and again.

I was an animal and I loved it! So this was the reward of being a pony. “Ugh,” I grunted again and again. Now I understood. Now I craved it. “Oh, Jesus, Don’t stop,” I thought to myself.

I was covered in sweat. The suit held in my body heat. Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran into my eyes. Drool ran down my cheeks. I bit down on the rod in my mouth, thankful that there was lots of soft nylon padding around it where my teeth came in contact.

I tried to do everything possible to prolong the ecstasy. I drove myself into him. I screamed as loud as I could to excite him. I squeezed my legs to tighten my muscles and grab him. But nothing I did was effective. Brandon was in complete control of how long this would last. I was his slave. He was the master. And I didn’t mind it a bit.

We had finished an hour ago. My arms were free of the binder but were now attached to my waist. The bit and bridle had been replaced by the ball gag harness. I knelt at his side as he watched the morning news on CNN. I rested my head on his thigh, completely spent from the morning’s activity.

To keep my mind occupied he had replaced his cock with a battery powered vibrator. It had a unique feature of varying in intensity randomly. I never knew from one minute to the next whether it was going to go quiet or drive me to the brink of orgasm. All Brandon did when I moaned past the gag was smile. He knew exactly what was going on and what I had to endure.

By noon we were both hungry. He removed my bonds and told me to take a shower. In fact, he decided to join me and we washed the sweat off each other’s bodies. He even massaged my scalp and my shoulders. I returned the favor and we both enjoyed it immensely.

“Put on something nice. I think I’ll take you to Pierro’s,” he said as he wrapped a towel around me.

“OK,” I said excitedly. “I haven’t been there since the Christmas party.

“Wear that long black wig. And put on some sultry makeup.”

“You want me to look like a hooker?” I asked, smiling and using my imagination.

“I prefer to use the term, courtesan,” he replied.

“Courtesan? I’ve never heard that term. What does it mean?”

“Courtesans were high priced hookers of the sixteenth century. They held a different connotation during the era,” he said with a smile.

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, they often were held in high regard and were openly admitted into the inner royal circles. Royalty made love to courtesans for pleasure while they had sex with their wives to preserve bloodlines.”

It made me think for a moment. “You’re not married, are you?”

“Of course not. Why did you ask such a silly question?”

“Well, you want me to play the role of a courtesan and you said royalty had sex with wives just to preserve bloodlines.”

“Oh! I get it. No, this is just role playing. We’re just going to do this for a few hours. I have no intention of treating you like a hooker or a courtesan. You’re my slave and my lover and my girl. But most of all you’re the woman of my dreams. I consider you as my equal, perhaps even my superior. You’re much smarter than me.”

“No I’m not!”

“I fully expect that one day you’ll be CEO,” he said. “You have ways of making things work, even when everyone thinks a project will fail. You’re like Scotty from Star Trek. You always find a way to fix things.”

I smiled at him and let my towel drop as I hugged him. “I never knew you had so much respect for me.” I touched his smiling face and kissed him.

He got dressed and ran downstairs to get the wig he wanted me to wear. I made a mental note to bring all of them up here with me before the end of the day. While he was getting them, I dried my hair and looked in the closet for something to wear. I spotted a pair of leather pants and remembered Brandon telling me that he loved the look of a silk blouse and leather pants. And I just happened to have an emerald green silk blouse. It had long sleeves and a plunging neckline. It would show a lot of cleavage. I was sure he would love it.

As I was getting the outfit I noticed a tight black dress I remembered wearing a year or two ago and pulled it out too. I laid out both on the bed and put on a bra and panties. By that time Brandon had returned with the three foot tall circular box.

I waited with anticipation as he cut the tape ever so carefully and pulled out the black wig. It was almost two feet long and was made from all natural hair. “This is going to hang to my ass!” I said.

“Sounds wonderful to me,” he replied as I began pulling my hair into a tight bun. “Let’s see how it looks on you.”

I put it on while watching myself in the mirror. I was amazed at the difference. I didn’t even look like the same person. I laughed. “I have to wear this to work tomorrow! They’ll go nuts.”

“I want to see that too,” he replied.

I examined the wig carefully through the mirror and secured the wig with some pins. The bangs were perfectly straight. None of my blonde hair was visible. And the length was truly impressive. It did hang almost to my ass.

“This must have cost a fortune. Is this really human hair?” I asked.

“Yes, and yes,” he replied. “Seeing you in this wig is worth every cent. I’m anxious to see you in the red and the blonde wigs too.”

“I’m sure you are,” I said smiling.

Brandon watched as I applied makeup, asking me to use a darker shade of lipstick and a little more rouge. When I had finished I really didn’t look like myself. I looked more like someone involved in espionage. When I was satisfied I smiled. Then I laughed and looked at Brandon. “What do you think?” he asked me.

“This isn’t me,” I said.

“That’s the idea.”

I got up and showed Brandon the two outfits I had come up with. “Hold the dress up to yourself and let me see,” he asked. When I held it up he rejected it and said he liked the blouse and leather pants better. “This is a lunch. If it were dinner, I’d say the dress would be more appropriate. I like the green against the black too,” he said.

“OK,” I said. “You know, I have those leather skirts too.”

“Yea, OK. Let’s see what that looks like.”

Ninety minutes later we walked into Pierro’s. Every eye turned my way. Brandon seemed proud, almost as if he were showing me off as if I were a work of art. At his suggestion I had added a pair of black leather knee high boots which sported five inch heels. The knee length skirt had just a small vent to allow mobility and I was sure that it offered tantalizing glimpses of my thighs.

I always loved the jewelry Brandon provided for me and today would be no exception. I had a thick gold chain around my neck. It had one inch links and hung down between my breasts. I had wrapped a gold bangle on my right wrist and put on a pair of small gold earrings.

I held Brandon’s arm for support as we walked into the restaurant. The room was filled and noisy. The maitre d’ recognized Brandon and smiled at me. His attention was redirected towards Brandon as he asked for a table in a quiet corner. We were led to a quaint corner table. 

Brandon ordered a light red wine and recommended the French Onion Soup. I normally didn’t like soups of this nature but he insisted. Along with the soup we also ordered baked ham sandwiches. The restaurant was busy and there was quite a delay before the wine arrived. When it did arrive, the wine steward offered the cork to Brandon and poured upon his approval. The bottle was iced and placed nearby.

“It’s wonderful,” I said after taking a sip.

“It is. And so are you.”

“That’s so sweet.”

I sipped my wine and looked around the room. I spotted a familiar face. “Diane’s over there with her husband,” I said. “Let’s join them.”

“Act like you don’t know her.”

“Come again?”

“Let’s play the scene out. Make her think you’re someone else.”

“Oh, that’s evil!” I said with a sinister smile on my face. “She’ll think you’re having an affair!”

“Tomorrow, take the wig into work in a box so she doesn’t see it.”

“No, even better, I’ll dress like this and we’ll go in early. I’ll keep my door closed and call her in.”

“We can do that. Is she looking our way?”

“Oh, yes! She definitely recognized you. Her mouth is wide open.”

“This should be good,” he said. He smiled at me as we played out our evil little gag on her.

The soup arrived in individual ceramic bowls, each exquisitely decorated with pictures of small onions. The bowls were placed on plates and had warm slices of seasoned French bread arranged around the edge. A small carafe of cream was placed on the table. And when I looked into the bowl it was covered with melted white cheese. “This looks fantastic!” I said.

“They use a mixture of Asiago and Gorgonzola. Pour a little cream into the bowl and stir it up. It’s really hot.”

I did as he suggested. When I did, I found that there were well browned slivers of onions and lightly browned pearl onions in a light cream broth underneath. On his suggestion I broke a slice of bread into quarters and tossed it into the soup. When I tasted it the experience was beyond belief. It had a buttery sweet taste that was smooth and creamy. I never knew onion soup could taste so amazing.

We finished lunch and walked past Diane. I made sure to keep my face partly hidden by the long black hair. I made sure to wrap my arm around Brandon and kiss him on the lips. I was sure that Diane didn’t know what to think. We’d have a ball with her tomorrow.

It was almost two o’clock when we got back home. While I read a book, Brandon slumped into his easy chair and turned on the TV so he could watch the Panthers. They were winning for once, thankfully.

A half hour later it was halftime and I took the opportunity to approach Brandon with an important question. I put down the book and climbed into his lap. He seemed in a good mood.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

“What can I do to get you to propose?” I asked.

He looked into my eyes and smiled. “It won’t be too much longer,” he said.

“That’s not what I asked. I want to know what I can do to speed things up.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. It will happen.”

“Are you saying that this fantasy thing is all part of it?”

“Absolutely. When I’m satisfied with your dedication and commitment, then I’ll propose.”

“But I am devoted to you. I love you. Don’t you know that?” I asked in frustration.

“Of course I know you love me. I love you too. There’s nothing in this world that would ever change that. I’m talking about devotion and commitment to being my slave. When I’m satisfied with your performance as a slave, then I’ll propose.”

“So I have to do a better job at being a slave? Then you’ll marry me?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“So what do I have to do?”

“The same as what you’re doing now. The only obstacle in the way at this point is becoming accustomed to the role I want you to play. Once you get used to the idea of being bound and gagged, of being dressed in a costume, or being put into the role of ponygirl, then you’ll get your ring. You’re almost there.”

“I have done all those things and I don’t really mind. I know you like doing that to me and I enjoy seeing you enjoy yourself.”

“I know that. But you have to admit, you didn’t like it when I pushed you this morning.”

“The whip hurt! And my legs were tired,” I argued.

“But you still could run for short spurts. You should have let me decide if you were tired enough to deserve a rest. And you were downright pissed at me for whipping you. Weren’t you?”

I nodded my head sheepishly. “I guess I was,” I admitted.

“Conquer those problems and you’re essentially there. As long as you continue to progress with your oral sex sessions I’d guess you’ll be completely trained in less than a month.”

“Couldn’t you propose now and go under the assumption that I’d get there?”

“Then where would the incentive be?” he asked.

“Honey, I want my ring!” I said.

“I know. You need to develop patience. It will come. Trust me.”

“OK,” I said. “You always seem to find a way to make the moment more enjoyable.”

He patted my head and kissed me. Then he pointed to my chair and made me return to it so he could stare at my heels. He really did love heels!

When the game finished it was dinner time. We shared the cooking duties, Brandon putting a couple burgers on the grill and I preparing a light salad as well as making some corn on the cob. While we ate, Brandon told me what he expected of me.

“I need to ask you something,” he said.

“What?”

“Are you serious about this slavery thing? I mean really serious.”

“I stopped eating and looked at him. Absolutely.”

“I’d like to set a routine for the week and the weekend. That way you know what’s expected of you.”

“OK,” I said, curious as to what he wanted from me.

“First, the weekends will have three ponygirl sessions, weather depending. I’ll let you schedule them.”

“Me?” I asked.

“Yes. You find the time and tell me when you want to march. That way there’s no excuse that you have something on your schedule.”

“Ok,” I said, somewhat stunned by his request.

“Also, on the weekends I want you to wear your body suits only, unless we’re going out or expecting visitors, of course. Also plan on wearing five inch heeled boots.”

“Every weekend?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Next, on Saturday and Sunday morning you will crawl into the bathroom and shower. When you open the door you’ll be naked, wearing only your collar and ball gag harness. You’ll kneel at the foot of the bed until I’m ready to let you suck me off. The gag stays in place until your mouth is blessed for the day. Understand?”

I looked at him silently and nodded. It was a disgusting thing to mention at the dinner table. I was going to protest but for some reason couldn’t bring myself to do so. I was feeling very submissive. My master was providing me with instructions.

“I suppose you want to end the day in a similar manner?” I asked.

“Exactly. Around ten o’clock you’ll prepare yourself and put yourself in a similar state at the foot of our bed. In fact, every night will end this way.”

I had accepted his control over me so I simply said, “OK.”

“The only other thing, and this applies to weekdays, is to schedule yourself for three evening ponygirl sessions during the week. And if the weekend has a lot of bad weather, you need to find a way to make up those days during the following week.”

“Do you want me in harness again tonight?” I asked.

“Yes, around seven should be good. OK?”

“Sure, I guess so. I guess we should eat a little early.”

“You’re just anxious to get your teeth into that corn and those filets.”

“Guilty, I confessed. “Is there anything else my master wants,” I asked giggling.

“I think that covers it for now,” he said plainly. He seemed to be having fun but he was far too serious. “After dinner, start working on the schedule. I’d like it ready before we go to bed.”

“You think too much like a CEO,” I said, teasing him.

“But you love me anyway, don’t you?”

We had picked up a few things on the way home, namely some lovely filet mignon, some button mushrooms, and four ears of corn. We were both excellent cooks and we enjoyed being creative.

Brandon wasn’t going to bother being fancy with the steaks. The only liberty he took was that goofy chef’s hat he always wore when he applied his culinary skills. I always laughed when he donned it.

The filets weren’t going to be a huge production. I knew how Brandon liked to cook steaks. For him simple was better. He simply seasoned them lightly and threw them on the hot coals. While he did that I sautéed the button mushrooms and fried some Vidalia onions. I also got the water boiling for the corn. Brandon helped move the large pot onto the stove.

The potatoes would be where I decided to be creative. I cut a single but large potato into wedges and threw them into the microwave for one minute just to get them going. Then I tossed them into the oven and baked them on high heat. While they were going I made a cheddar cheese sauce. I feared that they would take too long to cook but because I had cut the potatoes they were done just as all the other food was ready to be plated.

We ate on the deck. It wasn’t romantic but it was a lot of fun. It reminded me of the days when I was a little girl. I remember the family barbeques we used to have during the summer weekends and holidays, the long lines of people sitting on benches my dad had built out of redwood. Brandon reminded me a little of my dad, especially since they both liked to wear that silly chef’s hat.

Dinner was served at 4:30 and was over by five. Brandon insisted I eat light but the food was just too good. I loved the steaks and Brandon loved everything else. He loved the potatoes. It made me wish I had made more. Brandon thanked me for not making more. He really didn’t want the extra starch.

We relaxed on the deck for an hour and a half, enjoying each other’s company. The weather was perfect and the fresh air from the pines left a wonderful perfume in the air. By the time Brandon had decided it was time to have me get into costume the sun was setting. That got me worried.

“It’ll be dark soon,” I complained.

“We have lights on the cart.”

“The bugs will eat us alive,” I argued.

“No, I have a powered coach. I can sit inside and drive you.”

“Yea, but I won’t be inside. What about me?”

“You’ll be in a body suit.”

“My head won’t.”

“That’s what the hood is for. And just to be safe we’ll apply repellent around the seams. You’ll be fine.”

“OK, I guess,” I said.

“Go get into your red body suit. I’ll meet you up in the bedroom in a minute.”

While Brandon retrieved the extra items he wanted me to wear, I slipped into the skin tight red suit. The tight feel was uncomfortable at first. But then I looked at myself in the mirror and was mesmerized by the way my body seemed to be enhanced by the outfit.

The majority of the pony gear was piled in a clump on the floor. While I was waiting for Brandon I laid out the items on the bed, trying to get them in some sort of order. The boots and gloves were paired. The collar and the corset were placed next to them. And finally I noticed the bit. It had been sitting on the floor. As I was rinsing it in the sink, Brandon arrived.

When we had visited Luigi’s I had worn the hood briefly for fitting purposes. Now it was going to stay on my head for a much longer time. Right up to the moment when Brandon slipped it on my head I was very nervous about the whole thing. But once it was in place I really didn’t mind it at all.  It was soft and pretty comfortable.

Having a hood placed on your head is not something I’d recommend to the first time bondage enthusiast. It took every bit of my resolve to avoid panicking. “Can’t we just use bug repellent?” I asked.

“I like this method better,” Brandon said.

I let him tighten the laces, pulling the leather around my face. “Can you breathe and see OK?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I still think bug repellent would be better.”

“You look kinkier in a hood,” he argued. I shrugged my shoulder, knowing that I wouldn’t win this argument.

Brandon helped me get into the corset, lacing the bodice tight enough to give my back plenty of support. Now that the hood was in place he put the collar around my neck, letting it support my head. Next came the dreaded arm binder. I found that if I leaned forward while he was putting it on me I was more comfortable, although in this case that was a relative term. As Brandon closed the zippers I lost my balance and fell to my knees. Brandon caught me and kept me from landing on my face, thankfully.

Once I had gotten back on my feet, with Brandon’s aid, I sat down on the bed so he could put the boots on me. As before, these were platform heeled boots with Lexan heels. From a distance the heels would be almost invisible.

“Just the bit and bridle,” he said. “Go look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Just when are you going to propose?” I asked insistently.

“When I’m satisfied you’ll make a good wife,” he replied. Suddenly he stuttered. “Ah, I didn’t mean it that way.”

I turned to look at him. “I didn’t deserve that!” I said angrily from behind the mask.

“No, you didn’t. But you do need to learn more about how to be a proper slave before I intend to propose.”

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked,” I whined. “What else can I do to convince you that I love you?”

“You don’t have to convince me that you love me. I know that. I love you just as much.” He took me in his arms. “I need to know you’ll be a good slave as well as a good wife and lover.”

“I don’t understand!”

“Let me see if I can help you. A husband and wife share responsibilities. They share duties. They share their lives. You know that much, right?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Well, in a slave / master relationship, in the context we’re working under, we deal in duty, devotion, and trust. Let’s take trust for instance. Right now you’re helpless, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“If I were an evil person I could hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve known you too long. You wouldn’t.”

“But how do you know? You know because you trust me.”

“I understand that much but what does that have to do with our situation?”

“I’m getting to that. The bond I want to develop with you is going to be deeper than your average relationship. Not only do I want to develop a greater level of trust, I want to develop your sense of duty. Along with that, I want to develop my own sense of duty.”

“I’m still confused.”

“I’m sorry if I’m rambling. I am developing your sense of duty to me by making you do things you’d rather not do. As a slave you have a duty to please me. Do you understand that much?”

“Yes.”

“Likewise, I have a duty to you to make sure you’re not left in a vulnerable situation where you’d be harmed. For instance, if you’re gagged I won’t leave you alone.”

“I understand that too.”

“We have duties and responsibilities to each other that most other people don’t have. That makes our relationship much stronger. Our relationship would be like a rare piece of art that is only valuable to us. That fact that we couldn’t discuss the details of it would make it even more interesting, almost like a stolen artifact that we’d hid in our bedroom.”

“I think I’m beginning to see where you’re going. You think these kinky games will make us closer.”

“They’re not games!” he said. “This is a lifestyle. It’s like moving to a new country and learning the language. We’ll be doing this type of stuff for years to come.”

My eyes opened wide. “You’re not serious? You don’t really intend for me to dress like a horse for the next several years, do you?”

“At times, yes. I have a lot of ideas. There are shows to attend for ponygirls, for dog girls, and just general master/slave parties.”

“And you want me to follow you into public on a leash?” I asked incredulously.

“The places won’t be public but there will be many people there. But yes, you will almost certainly be on a leash,” he said in a matter of fact manner.

“I suppose you want me to be naked at times too, in front of people?”

“There would be times where that would be necessary, yes,” he replied.

“I don’t think I can do that. These sessions are private. I don’t want to let others see what we’re into.”

“Do you want to be a slave or not?” he asked.

“If that’s what’s involved…” I let it hang.

“Maybe I should go,” he replied.

“Brandon, I can’t go in front of people in this type of outfit. It isn’t right.”

“Maybe I overestimated you. I thought you would have more devotion to me.”

“I am devoted to you.”

“But not enough to trust me in this matter.” He shook his head.

“I’m doing all this to please you. Isn’t that enough?”

“You have to do everything I asked, not just the things you find mildly objectionable.”

“I suck your cock! You think I find that just mildly objectionable?”

“It must be less objectionable than appearing naked in front of strangers,” he said.

“It’s not.”

“Then why are you complaining?”

I broke down and started crying. “Trust me,” he said in that soft voice of his. “That’s all I ask. Do as I say. Be a good slave and I’ll make you happier than you ever imagined.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed me. Then he grabbed the bridle and finished my preparations.

I was sealed in my outfit from head to toe. The only parts of my body exposed to the air were my nostrils, eyes, and mouth. Unless I inhaled a bug I’d be fine. I was going to say something about having my mouth propped open while out in the woods but I was afraid that Brandon would make me wear something even more severe, like a ball gag with a bit incorporated into it.

As before he insisted I lift my knees as I walked. He walked beside me as I trotted slowly toward the storage barn. Brandon insisted I walk slowly. “Take your time,” he’d say. “This isn’t a race.”

By the time we had reached the barn I was completely absorbed by the role I was playing. I felt like I was more than a horse but less than human. My mind had accepted the role of slave. I loved Brandon so much that I’d do anything to please him. I began to understand what he had been saying, that this was so much more important than I had thought.

I had to trust him. I was helpless. I couldn’t do anything without him while I was in this outfit. If something happened to Brandon I’d die in this situation. I wouldn’t be able to feed myself. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even dial a phone. I needed Brandon for my own survival. The situation shed a new light on our relationship.

Brandon wanted domination. He wanted me to be kept under control, under his thumb. In his mind I was personal property. I understood that. To be truthful, I resented it to some degree. But I played along because I really did need him.

This level of submission was something that I had never dreamed of before meeting him. Then again, I found that I was growing into the role nicely. I could wear anything he wanted me to wear. I could essentially do anything sexual that he asked of me. I could play any role he desired. And except for the oral sex, I actually got some enjoyment, if not excitement, out of each activity.

We arrived at the barn to find the area lit by only two small lights. As before, he opened the large door to reveal the cart and the carriage. The carriage, now that I could examine it more carefully, was a large structure that stood eight feet high and was ten feet long. I’m sure it weighed several hundred pounds.

Brandon went behind the cart, leading me by the reins, to show me the luggage area. Inside was a small gasoline engine that was meant to power it. “You only have to pull your own weight. This will move the carriage for you.”

I nodded my head to indicate I understood. The smaller cart had a similar arrangement, albeit on a smaller scale. Having experienced the smaller cart earlier in the day I knew that I wouldn’t have any problems pulling the larger one.

As I was led to the front I noticed the pull bar had a pair of arms that extended forward. Obviously these would attach to my waist. It was then that I noticed other pull bars propped against the wall. The coach was designed to be pulled by more than one girl I realized. I made a mental note to ask Brandon about that.

My reins were fed through a slot under the curved glass windscreen and Brandon climbed inside. I heard the muffled rumble of the engine as it was started. A moment later we were off.

I figured that with Brandon enclosed inside the coach there was no way to punish me if I failed to please him. He couldn’t get to me with a riding crop or whip. Well, I was wrong. After only a few steps where I failed to lift my knees properly, I felt the sting of a riding crop on my protruding butt. From under the carriage a long piston extended toward me, carrying a two foot long riding crop. Brandon must have triggered it to hit me three times for not lifting my knees.

“Keep your knees high,” he demanded.

I got the picture. I began pumping my knees and pulling. The pace was kept slow. I felt the right rein tighten and instinctively pushed off to my right. The assistance of the engine made the cart virtually weightless to me. I had to guide it with my hips when I wanted to turn. As long as it was moving it was pretty easy to steer.

The exercise lasted roughly half an hour as we made four laps. I was pretty proud of myself for enduring the entire ordeal. Brandon seemed pleased as well.

We didn’t linger outside for very long. The night was fast approaching and the bugs were swarming. Brandon was starting to get bit by mosquitoes so he led me inside.

Instead of removing my gear he left me as I was, insisting that I drop to my right knee. “This is called the first position,” he said. “You’ll assume it any time you are on a leash and we stop. The key elements are a pointed right toe, straight hips, and a high chin. Try and square up things,” he ordered.

It was another element to add to the myriad of things I had to endure. This was a kneeling position that didn’t really feel comfortable but I could endure it. It was my left foot that was out of sorts. My left knee and leg were virtually useless. I found that I could hardly lift myself back to a standing position using my left leg. I guess that was because I favored my right side.

I struggled to return to my feet as Brandon leant me a hand. “You’ll always struggle a little to get up on that leg. That’s the intention of putting you in that position. You’re kneeling on your strong leg which essentially takes it out of play. That, in combination with the heels will cause you to struggle.

I nodded.

“It’s time you learned to whinny your response. Can you do that?”

I nodded.

“Whinny once for yes and twice for no.”

I whinnied once and Brandon smiled.

I’m going to keep you in that outfit for a little while longer. Go over to my favorite chair and take up the position again. Acknowledge my command with a single whinny.”

I whinnied but not in an enthusiastic way. I was pissed that I had to stay bound longer than I had anticipated. So I showed it by whinnying angrily and loud. His response was a slap on the rump and a stern order to get into position. I guess he was showing who was boss.

Brandon went to the bar and poured himself some scotch while I knelt facing the chair. I couldn’t see him but knew he was nearby. The blinders totally isolated me. Only the sound of the glasses and the pouring of the liquid alerted me to his continued presence.

“You’re incredible,” he said as he sat down. I loved hearing him say that. After that compliment though, he essentially ignored me as he began watching a rerun of an old movie.

After a half hour of me kneeling beside him as he watched mind-numbing television shows, he nodded off. Remembering what he said about leaving me alone in a gagged or helpless state, I started making a commotion to wake him. His eyes opened with a start. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

I whinnied twice to indicate ‘no’. I just didn’t want him falling asleep while I was helpless. Still, Brandon had had enough of my bondage and quickly freed me of my outfit.

“I didn’t think it was smart for you to fall asleep while I was gagged,” I complained.

“You’re right. That was a dumb thing to do. I apologize.”

I smiled. “Next time, tell me that you’re tired and I’ll think of something to keep you occupied.”

“I assume you have something in mind?”

“Of course!”

Phase VIII: Mischief at Work

Because of Brandon’s insistence that I perform certain slave duties to start the day, and because we wanted to play our little joke on Diane, Brandon insisted I set the alarm for 4 a.m. We normally woke up at 5:30 so we could shower, have a nice breakfast, and still have an hour to get to work by eight.

Brandon had set the routine last night. First, he surprised me with a little gift from Luigi’s. He handed me an ornate wooden box. Inside was a dildo. When I looked at him and asked him about it, he explained, “It’s an alarm dildo. You set a time and an intensity level. Then you insert it, put on a pair of panties, and then go to bed.”

“Wouldn’t an alarm clock be just as good?” I asked.

“Trust me. You’ll like this a lot more. Besides, you have a lot more preparation to go through than I do. You need to get up eariler.”

“I see.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not going to do any oral sex in the morning. I just want you to be kneeling at the foot of the bed when I wake up.”

“You want me to wear the ball gag harness?”

“No. Just put on a simple ball gag. In fact, you should put it on your night table. We’re going to make another one of those rules.”

“Of course,” I said with a note of sarcasm.

“You are not to set foot on the bedroom rug without being gagged. The exception, of course, will be the area around the dressing table. You can’t be gagged when applying your makeup. Naturally, I can suspend the rule whenever I please.”

“OK,” I said submissively. “I can manage that, I guess.”

“It’s going to take some careful planning on your part. You’ll need to gag yourself whenever you climb out of bed. Also, because you don’t wear heels to bed you’ll have to crawl out of bed. You can’t just swing your legs out and stand up. The heel rule stays in effect at all times. Understand?”

“That’s going to get tedious,” I argued.

“But you’ll do it, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” I said with a little giggle.

The gadget between my legs was distracting.  While I was grateful that the majority of the insert was flexible, it was still large and disturbing. But Brandon insisted I wear it and I wasn’t about to refuse him.

Brandon had me examine the device. I first set the device for a minute or two ahead of the current time and placed it between my legs. When it went off, Brandon told me to hit the end of it to suppress the alarm. “It has a snooze,” he said.

“You’re kidding!”

Brandon told me how to turn the device off. There was a collar that had to be turned to disarm the device. I would have to remove it to shut it off. Well, its primary purpose was to wake me up. Once awake what was the point of keeping it inside me? Then again…

The problem arose around two a.m. when I needed to go to the bathroom. I was about to get out of bed when I remembered the rules. I turned to look at my lover. He was asleep. I was going to cheat but then thought better of it. He had told me that the room was going to be recorded with a remote camera and to be truthful I didn’t want to violate our agreement anyway. So I rolled over and grabbed the red ball gag.

My movement must have wakened him. As I was inserting the gag into my mouth he opened his eyes and smiled. “I’m proud of you, Ellie,” he said as I pulled the straps around the back of my neck. He sat up and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. I thought it was nice.

As I was about to get out of bed he told me to turn around and crawl to the foot of the bed before crawling off the side. So I got up on my knees and started moving toward the end of the bed. “Crawl off square to the bed. Otherwise you’ll slip off and hurt yourself,” he warned.

I got off the bed without difficulty. When I got to the bathroom door I was just about ready to stand up when Brandon yelled at me. “No! Crawl into the bathroom and close the door behind you before you stand up. And don’t open the door until you’re back on your knees.” I turned to look at him and nodded. Drool was starting to collect on my chin so I moved quickly. I closed the door and went for a towel.

“You’ll need to watch your liquids if you want to avoid these little side trips,” he chided as I removed the gag.

I turned to look at him as I pulled the gag out. I smiled and didn’t answer. Instead I argued, “This is awfully tedious.”

“I know. But humor me.”

“OK. Anything else before I try and catch a couple more hours of sleep?”

“I don’t think so. We do have to get up early.” He kissed me and I nodded off not long after.

“Oh! It felt so good,” I thought. I quietly lay under the covers as my friend buzzed away inside me. I was tempted to leave it buzz for a lot longer but I had things to do. I hit the snooze. I almost pulled it out of me when I realized that all the towels were in the bathroom. I decided to leave it inside me.

The routine was still new to me. I reached for the gag and pulled the straps behind my head. I was grateful for the large amount of room on the oversized bed. I was able to crawl to the appropriate spot and crawl off without waking Brandon. As was the rule, I kept my heels from touching carpet.

Out of rebellion I almost stood up just before going into the bathroom. Then I thought better of it. He said he had the room wired and I didn’t want to get into an argument over something I had agreed to. If I was going to show my rebellion, this wasn’t the moment to do it. It also got me wondering. What would the consequences be if I did stand on the carpet?

Anyway, I crawled into the bathroom and scooted behind the door to close it. The linoleum hurt my knees. Once the door was closed I stood and stared into the mirror. There was something erotic about the look of my gagged mouth. I know it sounds strange but I actually enjoyed the look.

After admiring myself for a moment I removed the gag and went through my normal morning routine of showering, combing my hair, and various other duties. Once I was finished I reinserted the rubber ball, fastened the strap and got down on my knees.

When I opened the door, I could see that Brandon was still in bed. I crawled to the dressing table and sat down. Remembering that the dressing area was a free zone I removed the gag to apply my makeup.

“Are you awake yet?” I half yelled at Brandon.

He rolled over and stared at me. “Yea, I’m up. What time is it?”

“Almost five,” I said. “You’d better get ready.”

“Yea,” he moaned. “I guess you’re right.”

“I have a problem. If I put the gag back in it will mess up my lipstick. And I can’t crawl around in my dress or my stockings.”

“I never thought of that. I guess we’ll have to suspend the rules once you apply your makeup. We’ll think of an alternative later. Just get dressed. I’ll hit the shower.”

We arrived an hour earlier than normal. The downstairs guard didn’t recognize me so he asked Brandon my name. I would have preferred to remain the mystery woman, dressed in my tight fitting clothes and my long black wig. Unfortunately I had to confess my real identity since he asked for an ID. Brandon had known him for almost ten years and he got Charlie to tell anyone who asked that he hadn’t seen me. I kissed him on the cheek.

I took a more conservative dress with me so I didn’t have to wear this outfit all day. Brandon tried to discourage it but I put my foot down. Funny, I don’t remember ever putting my foot down with him.

I visited my office and checked my email. There was nothing pressing. Then I checked my calendar and I suddenly realized that we had a managers meeting at 10:00. I looked at myself and nearly panicked. I couldn’t let them see me like this. After all, a joke on my friend was one thing. To appear in front of every manager in a tight black leather skirt, high heeled boots, a long black wig, and makeup that made me look like a high priced hooker was just a little unprofessional.

Then again I was feeling mischievous today. A practical joke played on one was sort of fun. A joke played on a dozen straight laced managers, most of whom were close friends, was going to be hilarious. In fact, I was even thinking of having Diane take me on a tour of the entire Accounting and Finance division. I wanted to see how many recognized me!

Brandon called me shortly before 8:00. “She’s on the way up. Why don’t you come over now and get settled?”

I sat on the corner of his desk with my back to the door when Diane walked in. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, spotting me. “I was told you wanted to see me.”

Brandon stood. He walked over to the corner of the desk and kissed me full on the lips. When he finished I turned my head around to find Diane’s mouth wide open. I so wanted to control my laughter but I just started to giggle. “Got ya,” I said.

“Who are you? What’s going on?” she asked, with eyes wide.

“She doesn’t recognize you,” Brandon said.

She suddenly got the hint. “Ellie? Is that you?”

I just smiled.

“What in God’s name? What are you doing in this outfit?”

“Just a little joke. I saw you looking us over at the restaurant yesterday and thought it would be fun to play a little prank on you. Hope you don’t mind,” I said.

“It’s just so far out! I’ve never seen you in anything so provocative. You’ve always been the quiet type.”

“So, what do you think?”

“It’s fantastic. That wig is amazing! And those boots, where did you get such high heels?”

“When we went to New York we did some very special shopping.”

“I wish I could get a pair of those. You wouldn’t know where I could get a pair locally, would you?” she asked.

“No, I looked all through Raleigh and didn’t find a single store with anything that was comfortable. But then again, I have strange feet. Maybe you’ll be luckier.”

“I could make arrangements for a little business trip to New York if you’d like,” Brandon offered.

“No! You can’t send her to Luigi’s!” I said without realizing I had revealed something that I shouldn’t have.

“The topless pizza place? What do they have to do with boots?” she asked.

“Topless what?” Brandon asked, smiling.

“Isn’t Luigi’s a topless pizza parlor?”

Brandon shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

Diane looked exceptionally confused. She stared at me for a second then shook her head. “Ok, give! We’ve known each other for five years. You never kept secrets from me before. I want all the details of your little trip.”

I was about to say no to Diane but Brandon suddenly said, “Tell her.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. Just don’t do it here. I have a meeting in an hour and I have to finish up that report. Take her to your office.”

We walked through the adjoining doorway and Diane sat down. I sat on the edge of the desk and smiled. “OK, you wanted to know the whole truth, right? Are you sure you can handle it?”

“You’re not sleeping with my husband, are you?” Diane suddenly asked.

The question floored me. “What? No,” I said in a disgusted tone. “That’s sick!”

“Then what’s going on?”

“Remember when you told me I should talk to Ruby?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Brandon and I decided to pursue that adventure. It seems as though he has a hidden past. He’s very much into kinky scenes.”

“Brandon? You’re kidding!”

“God’s truth!. And now I’m his bondage slave.”

“You’re putting me on. I remember you saying you wanted to do some kinky stuff.”

“When I crawled out of bed this morning I was holding a red ball in my mouth. He ordered me not to get out of bed unless I gagged myself.”

“And you did it?”

“Of my own free will.”

“And what other stuff are you doing?”

“Well, I’m wearing whatever he wants me to wear. We have bondage harnesses, collars, corsets, and all sorts of little gadgets. We even do a ponygirl thing where I dress up in a harness and he makes me pull a cart around the property.”

“You’re sick. You need therapy! Ellie, I think he’s brainwashed you.”

“You’re not all that conservative yourself. You told me once that your husband blindfolded you.”

“This is a lot more than that!”

“When John blindfolded you, would you have objected to having your hands bound behind your back?”

Diane thought for a second. “No, I don’t’ think so.”

“Is that because you trust him?”

“I suppose. Yes, I love him and trust him.”

“I am allowing Brandon to do as he pleases because I trust him and I love him. I know he gets extreme pleasure from seeing me helpless. It makes him feel like he’s my guardian as much as my owner. That’s why I’m doing this stuff.”

“Maybe I should take up Brandon’s offer. Wouldn’t it be hilarious to walk in the door wearing that wig and heels?”

“I’m sure both John and little Sara would have a ball with it. Then again, maybe it would be a bit much for a five year old.”

“I’d better get back to work. I have to be at that meeting too. Are you going to change? I’ll close your door.”

“I’m showing up like this.”

Diane smiled. “This should be fun!”

I arrived at the meeting hand in hand with Brandon. We arrived late so that everyone could be seated. The room became silent, in awe of my new look. Ruby, now Diane’s secretary, simply smiled and nodded. The rest just shook their heads, laughing as they realized who was under the long black wig.

The effect on everyone was as comical as it could have been. People would be queued to read their report, only to stare at me in shock. Brandon often had to jokingly prod the individual a second or third time to wake them out of their trance. It produced several funny moments.

After the meeting, several of the managers wanted to talk to me. Some seemed shy, as if they assumed I was ill or possibly temporarily insane. They talked in tones best used on the mentally disturbed. But my fun loving manner came out as I joked and carried on with them. Eventually they loosened up with such lines as, “I thought Halloween was next month.”

Ruby came up to me and hugged me. “This is a fantastic outfit,” she commented. “You should wear this all the time.”

“I’d bet a few of these guys would appreciate that,” I joked.

“I would,” our IT manager, Jim Sullivan smartly said. Jim was always a card.

“Really, you should,” Jenna said. “You look awesome! In fact, it would be great if we could have a little long hair club. We could get Diane, Jenna, and Jodie some wigs…”

“Those things are ten grand each,” I said.

“You have money,” Ruby said.

I smiled.

“You can’t buy us ten thousand dollar wigs!” Jenna responded.

“Sure I can.”

“Well, it does look nice,” she surrendered.

“She’d look better as a blonde. So would Diane,” Ruby offered.

“I have one blonde wig.”

“So do I. I never use it anymore. Now that my black hair is past my shoulders, I don’t really need it.”

“I’ll bring it in tomorrow.”

Various unforeseen problems took up the remainder of my work day.  Even though my plans were to change into something more conservative, I was immediately immersed in paperwork and phone calls. I never got the chance to change. Diane and I went to lunch together, me in my kinky outfit and her in her traditional red business suit.

I liked Diane. She was incredibly nice and as smart as they come. She and I had been friends for many years. She had been with the company for five years prior to my arrival. She knew this business well.

Diane now had my job, assistant office manager. She had a similar style to my own. She believed in coaxing production from her staff by making them understand that they were never alone when they were behind in their work. Diane was a very hands-on person.

As we ate lunch she asked me about my clothes. “I thought you were going to change,” she asked as she sorted the cucumbers out of her salad.

“I got bombed with work. I didn’t have a chance. Besides, I sort of like the look.”

“It is a little over the top.”

“Yea, I guess. Have you ever done anything like this with Robert?”

“Robert? No! Of course not.”

“Fantasy is fun.”

“I have kids. I can’t let them see me like that!”

“Maybe you’re right. Still, you can spice things up in the bedroom without getting crazy. Did I ever tell you about how Brandon used a scarf as a blindfold?”

“I remember seeing a movie with a scene like that. Kim Bassinger, 9 ½ weeks; it was a movie.”

“That’s where I saw it before!”

“You did that scene?”

“Right down to the ice cubes.”

Diane just smiled. “Maybe Robert and I need to have a little talk.”

“Cool!”

Diane seemed nervous, yet curious, about the topic so we changed the subject and started talking about other things. Eventually our lunch break ended and we walked back to our building. The street was practically deserted, which offered us a bit of privacy. “How can you walk in those things? I have problems with three inch heels. What are they, four inches?”

“Five. I’m still unsteady in them. Brandon has a fetish about heels. He made a rule where I have to wear heels all the time.”

“Nobody can wear heels all the time. You’d end up being a cripple.”

“He doesn’t insist that I walk in them, only that I wear them. The rule is simply that I can’t let my heels touch the ground at any time.”

“What about when you go to bed?”

“I crawl on the floor.”

“Do you really let him tie you up?” she asked.

“Yes, although sometimes I bind myself for his amusement,” I answered.

The statement seemed to shock Diane. “You tie yourself up?”

“Sure, well, I do as much as I can. More often than not I gag myself and put on my body suit and boots. Do you really want to hear this?” I asked.

“Absolutely!”

“Brandon and I set up rules.”

“Like the heels thing?”

“Yes.”

“You do seem to be able to walk in them relatively easily. Do they hurt?”

“The shoes are pretty comfortable. Luigi makes awesome footwear. Even the pony boots are comfortable.”

“Pony boots?”

“Never mind. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

“No, tell me.”

“They’re boots that make my feet look like horse hooves.”

“Why in God’s name would you wear horse hooves?”

“It’s part of the outfit.”

“What outfit?”

“My ponygirl outfit. Brandon dresses me up like a horse and has me pull his cart around.”

“You’re putting me on!”

“Would I make up something like that?”

We approached the door to our building and were suddenly immersed in a huge crowd of people. Our conversation had to be put on hold until later. “A good thing,” I thought. Diane needed time to digest the information. She already knew more than I wanted. Just before entering the building I warned Diane, “This topic is a private thing between Brandon and me. You’ve always been trustworthy. You understand that none of our conversation can become public.”

“You can trust me. We’ve been friends for too long. Your secret is safe.”

I gave her a quick hug. She exited the elevator on the third floor. I continued on to the eighth.

By the end of the day I had walked through most of our floor. This allowed the entire executive staff to become accustomed to my new look. The initial shock faded from the crew as we spoke more and more. Eventually they treated me just as they always had. They realized that the outfit had not really changed me. In fact, some of the girls seemed to like the idea and were thinking of dressing in a similar style.

Brandon drove on the way home and commented that the weather looked very nice. “Did you look at the weather forecast?” he asked.

“I was too busy,” I replied. “I think it’s going to be clear until Friday night.”

“Weather will be crap on from Thursday night through Saturday. You’ll need to do pony exercises for the next three nights.”

“I had figured on Monday and Wednesday. I guess one extra night won’t be any big deal.”

“Good. There’s something else.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve arranged for you to receive professional training at a facility in Texas.”

“What kind of training?”

“Submissive training. I can’t give you the type of training you need. I love you too much. You need someone who is only interested in performance, someone who has no trouble treating you harshly when you deserve it.”

“You’re frightening me,” I replied.

“I know. You’ll have to trust me.”

“Brandon, I do. It’s just that I’m afraid.”

We stopped at a light and he turned towards me. “I can’t marry you without this training.”

I relented. “How long will this take?”

“You’ll have to spend four weeks in training. You’ll also be isolated a day in advance before being transported. There’s a full day of travel each way. That’s a full month before I would see you again.”

“You won’t be there?”

“No.”

The light changed and Brandon stepped on the gas. “What happens if I refuse?” I asked, half in tears.

“Nothing.”

“You mean we go on as we are now, right?” I asked with panic evident in my voice.

“Yes. You’ll still do your pony stuff and you’ll still sleep with me. But you’ll never have your wedding.”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would jump from my chest. “I can be a better slave to you without being trained. I love you. Why can’t you understand that?”

“You can be a better slave?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Did I say you needed this training?”

“Yes,” I whimpered, knowing where this was going.

“Then accept my judgment and do as I ask.”

This was all so sudden. One day we’re playing sex games, doing bondage, even doing ponygirl stuff. Now, he’s arranging professional training. I didn’t know why. All I knew was that he always knew what was best for me. I did trust him and I loved him. “OK,” I croaked after gathering my courage. “I’ll do it.”

Phase IX: Final Training

Segment 1: Preparations and Shipment

A half hour passed from the time our conversation took place till we got home. All I could think about was this trip I had to take. When would I have to leave? What would they do to me that Brandon was too afraid to do? Would they beat me, rape me? What was I going to have to endure?

I tried to pry some of this information from him but he simply said that he would answer my questions but it was better if I found out when I got there. He said it would upset me. But I needed to know things.

“Am I going to be raped?” I asked.

“You’ll have sex at this place. And you’ll suffer pain.”

“Did you always plan on sending me to this place?”

“Not until you asked to be my slave.”

“What did I do to deserve this?”

“Stop thinking in those terms. You said you wanted to be my slave. You even signed a contract that you made up in your own words. You haven’t done anything wrong. This is simply a natural process you need to go through.”

“Maybe I should try and think of something else. When do I have to leave?”

“Your preparation starts three weeks from Sunday. You ship out on the following Monday afternoon.”

“I have meetings with the accounting heads on Tuesdays.”

“Phyllis and I will cover for you. I’ve arranged for a leave of absence for you for the six weeks.”

“I thought you said I’d only be away for a month.”

“I want a couple weeks to test your progress.”

“Oh.”

It was almost five when we arrived back at the cottage. Brandon told me to get into my gold body suit and put on my collar and pony boots. He made dinner while I got prepared. When I arrived he had a a pot of jarred tomato sauce on the range along with a pot of boiling water.

“Ravioli or spaghetti?” he asked.

“Ravioli,” I replied.

Dinner went quickly while I continued to wonder about the training. I did the best I could to control my emotions and not cry. It didn’t work. Brandon came to my side and took me in his arms. “You have to trust me. You need this.”

“I don’t understand why,” I argued.

“You will. There’s a level of commitment that goes beyond love. It comes from being treated as property. That’s what you must learn. This has to be done by someone who doesn’t have any attachment to you.”

I forced a smile and he kissed me. He held me tight while I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my head into his shoulder. “Eat something. You’ll feel better. The sauce is pretty good if I do say so.”

I didn’t plan on eating much but the ravioli were excellent. I had six. Brandon had retrieved an open bottle of red wine and poured me a glass. I drank much more than I normally would have.

“Feeling better?” he asked as I sipped my wine.

I nodded.

“I’ll clean up. Why don’t you go lie down and relax. We’ll do the pony stuff around six thirty.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “No, let me help. I’m the slave after all,” I argued. When the words left my lips I intended it as a joke. By the time I had thought about it, I realized that the statement had a lot more meaning than I had intended. Clearing the table was my job. I was the slave!

Ninety minutes later I was marching in my full pony outfit, including hood, boots, and bridle. The standard bit was changed to a ball gag bit that suppressed my ability to talk in a much more severe manner. It was designed with a half inch hole that allowed me to breathe freely. With the tight outfit and the stringent arm binder pulling my chest tight I needed all the air I could get.

A week passed. Brandon and I had worked out the bugs in our daily routine. During the day I’d be the Chief Financial Officer, dressed appropriately but provocatively. I always wore heels, often four or five inch spikes. I often wore a gold chain choker or a slightly longer and thinner chain as well as my little butterfly pin. People seemed to comment on how fantastic I looked.

At night Brandon owned me. Anything he wanted from me I did. I used my mouth every night on him. He insisted I ask for permission to “suck his cock” as well as make love to him. He absolutely forbade me to describe the act in nicer terms. It was part of my conditioning.

Three weeks passed. Finally the Sunday arrived where I had to leave. Brandon insisted that I wear only a pair of simple heels, a blouse, and my cheapest jeans. He told me that these would not be returned to me. I found some of my old clothes in the closet and dressed as he wished. It was 9 a.m. when we left.

It was quite a drive. Brandon used the GPS navigation system to find the place. The building was located in Georgia in a town called Grove Level. We were roughly thirty miles east of Atlanta according to the gadget. We pulled into a strip mall. Our destination was in the back. A doctor’s office was located there.

Next to the office was a truck wash facility. It seemed like a strange place to have a truck wash.  Its meaning would become clear at a later time. All I knew at this point was that the place was very busy and very noisy.

The waiting room was deserted except for a woman dressed in a white pair of pants and a blue sweater. She greeted us with a huge smile. “Hello, I’m Doctor Cynthia Shoop. You must be Ellie. How are you doing?”

“I’m really scared,” I said.

“Understandable. Do you know what’s going to happen?”

“No. That’s what scares me.”

“It won’t be too bad. I assume you’ve been through a little bondage before.”

“Brandon ties me up all the time. Are you going to tie me up?”

“Yes.”

“Brandon, can you stay with me?”

“I’m afraid not, Dear,” the doctor replied. “He can come into the preparation room and say goodbye to you. But after you’re stripped he has to leave.”

Those words just made me want to cry. I grabbed Brandon and held him. “This way,” Cynthia said.

We walked to a large freight elevator. We ended up in the basement. The elevator was a little oversized for the building it was in. Things seemed quite strange here.

We arrived in a dimly lit corridor. Barred cells lined the hall. I tried to look into one of the barred windows but the doctor pulled me away from the door. “This way,” she said.

We arrived at the end of the fifty foot corridor and opened the double doors to some sort of preparation room. There was a padded chair, a table, and trays with medical instruments. It looked very frightening.

In the room were two other women. Cynthia said their names were Sidney and Lea. They were both nurses and both of them were dressed in the traditional garb.

I had absentmindedly inserted my gold earrings before I had left. “Are these worth anything?” Sidney asked me.

“Yes. I forgot about them. Sorry.”

“Take them off and give them to your lover,” she commanded. “Any other contraband?” she asked.

I checked my fingers and looked down at my body. I had left everything at home as ordered. “No,” I replied. “I don’t think so.”

“You may strip. Throw your clothes in the hamper.”

Once stripped of my clothes they gave me one last chance to say goodbye. “I know you’re scared,” Brandon said. “But this is necessary. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Four weeks away from me is going to break my heart. But it’s something I know will pay off. Do you trust me?”

“I do,” I said as I kissed him on the lips harder than I had ever kissed him before. I pulled him to me and pressed my naked breasts against his body. I didn’t care if these other women saw my affection for him. I was proud to be his lover. More so, I was proud to be his property.

When the door closed behind him it was as if my heart had stopped. The girls saw this and immediately distracted me by taking me to the chair. “Would you like a drink?” the doctor asked.

I stared at the double doors in front of me. “Huh?” I said.

“Would you like a glass of water?” Cynthia asked.

I was still in a daze but I must have said yes because Lea handed me a Styrofoam cup. The water was cool. I asked for a refill and was given a second cup.

“Let’s get started,” Cynthia said.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, we’re going to start with an enema. This is a modern system. It’s not nearly as messy as the traditional method. Are you ready?”

“I suppose.”

Sidney pressed a button and reclined the chair until I was nearly on my back. Then she raised me up until my butt was three feet off the ground. “I’m going to insert this probe into your anus. It’s coated in Teflon and it is lubricated so there won’t be any damage. OK?”

I nodded.

The probe was roughly two inches in diameter. The end was slightly tapered but the center was hollow. It was almost a foot long!

The doctor wiped the end with a clear substance that looked like some sort of lubricating oil. Slowly I saw her position it under my rear. Sidney pressed a button and I felt a bulge in the seat lift my butt high. The nurses pulled my legs wide as I felt the penetration. It hurt a little bit but I could deal with it.

“Have you ever been anally penetrated?” the doctor asked.

“No,” I grunted as she continued to wiggle the probe deeper into my ass.

“You are pretty tight. Nothing to be worried about though. We’ll move slowly. How are you doing?”

“OK,” I grunted.

“Almost there. A little more. It’s in,” she finally said. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Lea handed the doctor a metal plate and a large threaded attachment. The plate looked like a figure eight or a bow tie, curved and narrower in the hinged center. Each end had a large hole in it. The back half curved inward slightly along its length, molding itself to the crack of my ass. The doctor positioned one hole over the protruding pipe and threaded the large oval shaped nut onto it.  As she did so I felt the tip of the plug expand. “It’s growing inside me,”  I complained.

“That’s good,” she said. “We don’t want it to fall out,” she told me.

I just accepted her statement. I think I was in shock at the time.

The oval shaped nut had two ears that allowed small cap screws to be inserted. The screws were in line with my crack. Once this was done she stepped back and let Sidney connect a large black hose to the fitting. Soon I felt warm water flow inside me. A minute or two later it was sucked out. “Is this how I’m going to be using the bathroom from now on?” I asked.

“It will be used for your prep and your transport. Once you get to your destination they’ll remove it during some parts of your training. At other times they’ll insist that you are flushed like this. Now, no more questions. We have a lot of work to do.”

The hose was disconnected and a plug was inserted into the pipe. It was part of an oval shaped cover that snapped over the entire assembly. It could be released by pressing buttons on either side. I noticed that it felt a little heavy for just being a plug though.

The chair was reconfigured so that I was sitting a little more upright. “We’re going to work on your mouth and your nose. This is going to be unpleasant but try and stay calm, OK? We all have been through this from your end so we know what you’re going through.”

“OK,” I said as she approached my face with an oval shaped plate.

“This is just to hold your mouth open.” As she said this, the two nurses bound my wrists to the arms of the chair. I knew this wasn’t going to be good.

The oval shaped gadget slipped between my lips and my teeth. Now It held my mouth wide open because it was curved to the rough shape of my teeth.

“More light,” the doctor ordered as she looked into my mouth. She seemed to absentmindedly don a pair of rubber gloves. Sidney and Lea did the same. “Turn towards me a little, Honey.”

My gaping mouth turned toward her without my even thinking. “Forceps,” she ordered.

She grabbed my tongue and pulled it out of my mouth, lifting it and examining it carefully.

“Mask,” she said.

I felt a metal plate slip over my tongue. I saw from the corner of my eye the doctor grab a pliers-like device. “Push your tongue into the gadget,” the doctor ordered.

As I pressed my tongue home I felt a pin inserted into the center of my tongue. The gadget was now connected to my tongue and I couldn’t pull it out. “Ahhh,” I said.

“You’re doing fine,” Lindsay said as she petted my head. “Hold still while we do up your tongue properly.

The doctor spread some green paste on two spots in the back of my tongue and all along the tip. The front of the device was slotted, allowing the side of my tongue to be accessed. But that torture would wait.

My tongue felt numb and I tasted the banana flavor of the anesthetic. Lea used a suction wand and kept me from choking on my own saliva. The shield had a small handle on it, which the doctor used to hold my tongue steady. She pulled firmly, which elicited another moan from me, which she ignored. Suddenly I felt the first hole punched in my tongue in the back right. I heard a sizzle but felt no pain. Then I heard a small pop. A few seconds later the second hole was punched on the opposite side of my tongue.

“Those are grommets for attaching your gag. You’re going to be a pony or a dog for most of your stay so this will make sure you speak accordingly.”

Lindsay covered my eyes with a cloth. I suddenly felt pressure along the front of my tongue. It didn’t hurt much but I could feel something being inserted into the meat of it, horizontally. I heard a little buzz then felt some fiddling as a D-shaped ring was welded securely to the horizontal post. The tip of my tongue was ringed.

One more torment assaulted my nose as long fingers went into my nostrils and a grommet was punched through my septum. They hadn’t used any anesthetic so this hurt quite a bit. The shield was removed from my tongue and a leash was clipped to the ring on it. Finally they inserted a large gold ring into my nose and welded the ends shut.

While my mouth was still propped open by the oval shaped mouthpiece the doctor pulled my tongue out of my mouth once more to inspect the work. “Ahhh,” I grunted.

“Looks good,” she said. “Does it hurt much?”

“Ah hah,” I mumbled as she relaxed the pull on the chain and pulled the mouthpiece out.

“That will go away in an hour or two.”

“Ma tongue. Ya persced it. I can’t tak.”

“That’s right. You won’t need to talk when you get to the Academy.”

“Wha abou whan a go hom?”

“You have four weeks to get used to talking with the piercings in your mouth. You’ll be amazed how little you feel them. Any more questions?”

I shook my head, knowing that more horror was to come.

The nurses began massaging my nipples while the doctor fiddled with some needles and rings that were laid out on the tray. You can guess what happened next. Soon, after a fairly painful ordeal, my nipples were pierced by one inch gold rings. I thought that this was going to be the worst of it. I was wrong.

The nurses began strapping down my legs and my torso. Something horrible was going to happen. Cynthia pulled my hood back and eyed my clit. “Wha ah ya gaing ta da?” I asked anxiously.

“Just relax,” Cynthia said. “I’ll use anesthetic on your clit and your lips. It won’t hurt much.”

“No!” I screamed as she began smearing the green goo all over my sex. I couldn’t move regardless of how hard I struggled.

“Calm down,” Lea said. “We all get this treatment. We can’t let you go to the academy without your grommets and clit ring. The grommets are tiny, just like the ones in your tongue. They’re only an eighth inch in diameter. We’ll put little pearl studs in them. You’ll look fantastic.

I looked at Lea and Sidney with eyes as big as saucers. They petted my hair and begged me to calm down. “It’s not going to be that bad. You need this to move on. If you don’t get this done we can’t ship you out. If you’re not trained we can’t sign your graduation papers.

I looked at Sidney curiously. She seemed to read my mind.

“Shave her. That should give the anesthetic time to work.”

Lea grabbed a pair of electric shears and cleaned off my pubic hair. Then Lindsay ran over my sex with an Epilady that hurt like the dickens.

“You’re scheduled for the American Academy of O. Your owner requested that you be trained in the tradition of the famous story,” Cynthia told me as she grabbed a large needle and a little silver thimble.

“I neva herd of ait,” I said.

Lindsay explained as the doctor worked, “The ‘Story of O’ was written many years ago by a French woman using the pseudonym Pauline Reage. She wrote this story of a woman who was turned into a submissive slave. Her training….”

“Ahhhhh….” I screamed as the thimble was placed over my clit and a needle was pushed through it. “Tha huut,” I yelled.

“Sorry,” Cynthia said. “The clit has internal nerves that can’t be numbed with a topical anesthetic. The rest of the work shouldn’t hurt much though.”

“Ah Kay,” I mumbled as she inserted a post and a ring through a small hole in the sides of the thimble. I saw her press a half ring onto the post then hit it with a little wand that suddenly sparked. She tested it by pulling on the ring and trying to twist it. Needless to say, I didn’t appreciate her ministrations.

“As I was saying, her training was extensive. It involved a lot of penetration and a lot of corporal punishment with whips and paddles. It also involved a lot of humiliation. Eventually she learned to be a man’s perfect idea of a slave. You’ll be given a copy when you arrive at the Academy. I think you’ll like it. Some of your training will mirror her story.”

Two small sutures were sewn into my sex in each lip. While Lindsay explained, the doctor pulled the hinged panel up to meet my clit. At the top of the panel was a small hole for the thimble. Using the large hole to access it, she pushed the end of the thimble into the small hole and secured it with an acorn nut. Lea reached through the large hole and pressed my left nether lip to a ridge on the inside of the plate, inverting it in the process. She pulled the sutures until the edge of my lip met the ridge firmly.  “She’s getting wet,” Lea commented.

I saw a hint of a smile on Cynthia’s face. She took the pliers-like gadget and punched through, securing a small gold grommet in place. Lea shifted her grip slightly and the process was repeated five more times for a total of three grommets in each lip.

“This is a truly amazing tool,” Cynthia explained. It makes a tiny hole in your flesh and then forces a larger grommet through. That way when we pull out the grommet the hole will be small enough to heal quickly. That’s how we can use them and not worry about our slaves being maimed.”

I nodded.

“I’m glad you understand. Try to relax. The worst of the ordeal is almost over.”

Cynthia unbolted the clit thimble and swung down the plate.

A small horseshoe shaped bracket was put over my sex and tiny bolts were inserted from the underside. My sex lips were pulled over the studs, stretching my lips apart to reveal a gaping opening, ready for penetration. I saw Cynthia holding a short clear tube. Soon I felt the catheter invading my urethra. She attached the opposite end into a fitting on the right side of the outer plate. On the opposite side was a threaded drain that stuck out an inch or so. The plate was swung upward and my clit was reattached to the small hole on top. Six additional acorn nuts were screwed down to hold the upper plate to the lower. They pressed only on the grommets and not on my skin. But my sex was definitely secured.

I looked down at my sex. The hole in the bracket was two inches in diameter. When I saw the dildo that was destined for it my eyes nearly popped out of my skull. “No,” I screamed as the foot long prod was pressed between my legs.  “No!” I screamed again and again as the shiny metal device sunk deeper inside me.

The dildo had a flange around the outside that mated to the plate. I felt the dildo being twisted until two pins slipped into waiting holes. Cynthia turned a key and locked the device in place. I could see a red glow coming from the end of the dildo.

“Wha’s that,” I asked.

“Your dildo is armed. It can now be triggered to give pleasure or pain remotely. Observe!”

Cynthia picked up a small remote and pressed it. I immediately felt a light vibration. “We can change that in an instant to something more unpleasant.  That goes something like this.” I suddenly felt a horrible pain between my legs. “Ahhh,” I screamed. “Oh kay,” I yelled. “Ah geht it.”

“We use micro-pulses which can stimulate the nerves inside your tunnel without draining the batteries. You can go up to a week without recharging. And the best thing about the device is that it does absolutely no damage to the tissues. When we turn it off the pain or the pleasure goes away instantly. It’s the perfect control device.”

“Cynthia,” Lea said. “The next girl is due in an hour.”

“Yes,” she replied. “We’d better get this finished. Release her from the chair and get the belt, harness and mitts on her.”

They released me from the chair and capped the catheter with a small gold cap. It matched the false cap on the other side of my sex. They first applied a leather corset with half cups. There were many straps and steel loops on it. The girls pulled firmly on the stays for several minutes until they were satisfied with the fit. The stays were tied and a flap was zippered shut to hide the loose ends.

Next came the bondage mittens. My hands were formed into fists and wrapped in leather. There was roughly an inch of padding around them but the center was fairly stiff. They resembled thumbless boxing gloves.

A steel band was wrapped around my waist and locked in place. On each side was a short length of chain. They ended in a snap link. My wrists were clipped to these links. With my hands wrapped in leather, there was no way to remove them.

Finally they wrapped a series of straps around my body. Several straps were wrapped horizontally around my body with two loops encircling each breast. Short straps attached to each side of the harness were fastened around my arms, rendering my entire upper body completely motionless.

I was ready for the next step. They placed me on the table and pulled me towards the end. Cynthia released a catch and the top of the table swung away, forcing my head to fall backwards. “Stay like that, Dear,” Cynthia said. “I need to install your breathing and feeding tubes.”

Lindsay grabbed my tongue chain as Lea pulled my head downward. My mouth was held wide open while Cynthia began inserting a greased tube into my throat. At the same time she inserted an instrument into my mouth and watched carefully. She guided it into my esophagus. “Swallow, Honey.”

It hurt to swallow but I did as she asked.  It was horrible. It was like getting spaghetti stuck in your throat. “Good girl,” she said as I continued to obey. I hated it. Without saying a word, Lea handed Cynthia a ribbed plastic tube that was roughly twelve inches long. I felt something pressing at the back of my throat and suddenly I could feel the tube entering my breathing tube. I gagged. “Hang in there. It’s almost in place,” the doctor said as I struggled. Finally she backed away and took a deep breath.

I could breathe but it was hard to do so. “Try and calm down. You’re fine,” Lea said. I wished I could believe her.

Lea handed the doctor a black rubber ball then handed the end of the chain to the doctor. I watched in horror as she slid the ball down the chain towards my mouth. As it got close she fastened both tubes to the back of the ball with a wrench. The front of the ball had a thin filtered metal vent that went around a flat hole. My tongue entered that hole and the ball was pressed into my mouth. The ball was soft around the edges and was easily squeezed and stuffed into my oral cavity. As a final act, an air hose was attached to a small fitting on the underside of the ball. I felt both tubes expand in my throat and the ball expand into my cheeks. I was in agony!

“Nod if you can breathe OK,” Cynthia said.

I nodded as tears welled in my eyes. The inner wall of the breathing tube had expanded the opening, giving me better air flow. The outer diameter sealed my throat. It hurt a little but I could manage. All the bondage was so horrible that I was in shock. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me next and I was absolutely helpless to resist. I felt like a piece of meat. As a final act, she pulled firmly on my tongue and turned a screw with an Allen key. I felt two pins grab the grommets in the back of my tongue. I couldn’t move my tongue at all now.

To the left of my tongue was a fitting for an air fitting. On the right was a fitting for a feeding tube. While I could breathe fairly easily through the vent around my tongue, they still supplemented my air supply using a vent hose that pumped air into a mixing chamber inside the ball. The airflow was very slight, just enough to allow me to breathe comfortably.

Lea pulled my hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a rubber band. I saw the hood drop over my face. My vision was now restricted since the eyes of the hood were tinted quite dark. Laces were pulled tight and my bondage was complete. I wondered why they left my legs free.

The hood muffled their voices but I could still hear them. “Let’s get her mounted. We only have one more,” I heard the doctor say.

I discovered the air supply was a portable air pump. I was lifted from the table and a leash was clipped to my tongue chain.  I was led away, nearly blind and helpless. I couldn’t really see where I was going but we definitely headed back down the corridor.  The pull on my tongue led the way. I hated it. Eventually I saw a door open and I stepped from the smooth Linoleum to the rough concrete floor of my cell.

In the room were two Plexiglas containers holding a pair of kneeling girls. They knelt on top of wooden pedestals that were roughly a foot high and three feet square. And they were encased in a heavy plastic box. Behind them was a metal brace that the girls were attached to.

When they took me to my waiting pedestal I could see more clearly what I was going to have to endure. There was a narrow padded saddle and a pair of padded sockets for my knees. The pushed me down onto the saddle. I offered little resistance. My knees were cradled by the open-top knee pads. They were a little tight around the sides but fairly comfortable. My feet slipped into waiting holes in the rear of the box. They raised the saddle until my weight was fully planted on it. Then they slipped out the rear plug and connected a short hose to it. The opposite end was connected to the box below.

The saddle had a slot for a bolt, which was threaded into the metal plate between my legs. With a single bolt they connected me to the saddle. While I could move back and forth, I couldn’t rise off of the seat. They also bolted down my calves with padded brackets that slipped over my legs just behind my knees.

The nurses attached the remaining hoses below. I heard some commotion behind me and felt them place an inverted “Y” shaped set of rods into the waiting leather loops on the back of my corset. The rods split at my shoulders and followed my spine. A single vertical pole extended behind my head.  The device seated into waiting sockets in a bracket behind my waist. Chains were connected from the sides of my waist belt to the poles. Then a well padded collar was placed around my neck and also connected to the pole. Finally a chain was attached from the top of the brace to the top of my hood.

The only things left were the mouth attachments. One hose was connected from below to my air vent and the other connected to my feeding tube. Cynthia bent down and looked at the control panel mounted on the pedestal. She pressed a few buttons and closed the protective plastic cover. Soon I felt fluid going into my feeding tube and water pumping through my bowels.

“We’re going to cover you up now. We have one more girl to pack up before we can let you all rest for the night. You’re going to feel a need to void your bowels. The liquid we’re pumping into your stomach is laced with a mild laxative. We’re also going to flush your bowels every two hours. When you’re being flushed we’ll provide you with entertainment of course. Try and get used to the bonds. You’ll be in them for a day or two.”

Lea asked Sidney if the waste, water, and electric connections were in place. Lindsay seemed indignant that Lea would ask but she then smiled. “Of course. I always check them. I’m well aware that the holding tank can’t go for more than a day and a half.”

“Never hurts to be careful,” Cynthia said. “I heard of an incident last month from L.A. where a girl died because they didn’t check the charge light. The battery died and the girl suffocated.

“Relax. I checked the charge light. She’s fully charged and on maintenance charge.”

“Good. Let’s cover her up and get ready for our last lady. Boy this is getting to be a lot of work. Twelve girls in one day is just too much. Thank God we have two teams.”

“At least we get two months off until we have to do this again,” Lindsay said.

“Yea,” Lea replied as she operated the electric hoist and lifted the Plexiglas cover over my head. “I’m going to San Juan with Danny next week. The money will come in handy. We’re thinking of building on the island.”

“You’ll still help with the special projects, right?”

“Of course. The money is too good to turn down. Forty grand for four hours of work? I may be crazy but I’m not stupid.”

I heard air wrenches. My lid was being bolted firmly to the base. I was now isolated. I had a supply of laxative laced water, an air supply, and an automated enema device and I could do nothing to get out of this torment.

We faced each other in sort of a rough circle. We could all see each other. The collar was not tight and the chain on my head supported me only enough to prevent me from tilting it. I could still rotate my head to some degree. The other girls turned toward me and just stared. Their tongue leashes hung from their mouths as their chests bounced slightly. I realized that they were crying silently. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t.

Two hours later the fourth girl was dragged in and mounted. She struggled a bit until Cynthia took out the remote control. I watched the girl stiffen and suddenly stand upright. After that she was very docile. Before long they had her fully boxed and ready for shipping.

While she was being mounted my cleaning cycle had started. I felt water pumping into my bowels and my vibrator began to pulse. It stimulated my pierced clit. It was both painful and extremely pleasing. I won’t admit to an orgasm but I did enjoy the activity. Well, to be truthful, I just ignored the unpleasant elements. I guess I did have an orgasm. But you didn’t hear it from me.

We weren’t synchronized. I watched the girls wiggle around when their cycles started. The first cycle for the new girl was interesting. She really struggled and bucked her hips hard. But the bonds held her in place. In my box I couldn’t hear a thing but if I could I bet she was panting like a bitch in heat.

Other than the constant drip of water down our throats and the periodic cleanings we had nothing to do. For hours we knelt and sat in our boxes. I got bored beyond comprehension. I became depressed and occasionally cried. I could feel tears drip between my mask and my cheeks. My tongue hurt too, it being stretched by the piercings they had installed.

But mostly I thought about Brandon. I was mad at him. He must have known I was going to go through this. I didn’t understand why. He always said he loved me. Why did he send me to a place where I’d be tortured like this? Was he mad at me? Did I do something to anger him? He never indicated it. He always showed me the utmost love and respect. I didn’t deserve this.

There were no windows in the room so I didn’t know what time it was. All I knew was that we had all been kneeling for many hours, watching each other struggle and squirm in our boxes. I was almost grateful when Cynthia led two large men into the room and began directing them to get us ready.

The attachments for the hoses and power connector were on the front of the pedestal. I watched one of the men drop to his knees and do something. I felt a brief change in the airflow and the water that was trickling into my feeding tube stopped. He stood and then pressed on a pedal. I felt my box lift in one corner. He walked around me and pressed down on three more pedals. I felt each corner rise an inch or two each time.

I watched him repeat the process on one of the boxes across from me as the other man did the same to the last girl. Soon we were all on casters, being rolled down the hallway to the waiting freight elevator. There was a huge line of plastic boxes being moved into the elevator. With the lift only so big we had to go up in two trips.

We found ourselves in the car wash. Its doors were closed and it was night. It must have been early Monday morning, perhaps two or three a.m. There was a specially equipped panel van. We were wheeled up the ramp and into the truck. The floor was bumpy and jarred my ass on the seat. They pushed me backwards against the wall. There must have been a hook there because the man reached under my pedestal and did something that secured me. Then he walked away and got another girl.

The process continued until all twelve of us were secured. Then the doors were closed. After a few minutes we were moving. Thus began the worst thirty days of my life!

Segment 2 – Pony Hell

I can’t tell you how much I now hate those expansion joints that run across highways and bridges. I felt every bump along the way. I wished they had provided softer seats. My bottom was getting sore after the many hours in this truck.

The mouth bondage was horrendous. Not only did I have my mouth stretched wide, I also had tubes down my throat and pins in my tongue. How could they come up with such torture? And what did this have to do with loving someone and being their slave?

There wasn’t much to tell about the systems that were keeping us healthy. Water flowed into one tube while fresh air was pumped into the ball so I could breathe. I was no longer flushed. But the catheter and hollow dildos did drain away waste. I wasn’t willing to admit it but the vibrator did seem to take the edge of the trip. I really wished they had set it to go off more often.

The other girls were lined up along the opposite wall. I could see they were dressed identically to me. They knelt in their Plexiglas boxes and just stared straight ahead. An even dozen of us were headed to God knows where. In fact, I didn’t even know where we were headed. I wasn’t sure we really were going to a facility in Texas. I couldn’t trust Brandon. No, wait. I didn’t mean that. Did I?

Arrival time was approximately 7 p.m. Central. One by one we were wheeled out of the truck and onto the dock. Then, after a careful inspection a pair of lovely women whisked each of us away to a special room where we were to be released from our stands.

Our destination ended up being a very long, modern looking room.  It was a wide corridor with a number of rooms on one side and a glass paneled wall on the other. On the opposite side of that wall was another corridor.

We were grouped in fours, with two of us on either side of a colored glass door. Each door was tinted a different color, I noticed as the wheeled us in. We passed a blue door, a red door, and ended up at a gold door. I was placed just to the left of it. The remaining girls were placed nearby.

Each of us had an attendee and they worked to release us from our bonds. After the covers were lifted by hooks, they started removing our headgear. They started by removing the collar and the hood. Then they started working on removing all the facial bondage. Finally they removed the tubes going into our throats. It was the most disgusting element of the operations.

“State your name, Dear,” one of the girls said.

“Ellae Kangsta,” I mumbled, waiting for the rest of the bonds to be removed.

“Thank you,” she said, punching some numbers on a handheld device. I’ll be right back.

I looked to the right and to the left. Most of the girls had their headgear removed by now and they were awaiting the next step while kneeling and sitting on these boxes. After they had gone to a central terminal to enter some information they returned to the area in front of their charges. The attendants all stood against the long window on the opposite side of the aisle. It looked like they were waiting for someone.

Before long a tall man with a beard walked down the aisle carrying a portable microphone in his left hand. As he turned toward me I saw that he was incredibly handsome. He wore an expensive Stetson and cowboy boots. He walked with confidence and smiled at all of us as he inspected the entire line. Eventually he lifted his microphone and spoke.

“How ya all doin?” he asked. His thick drawl was almost comical. “Glad ya all could come. Sorry for the inconvenience but we don’t allow bitches to roam free until we get you all suited up. We’ll get you all out of those bitch boxes in a little bit. Then we’ll get ya sorted out might quick. We have a lot to go over.

“Ya all probably wonderin why you’re lovers sent ya here. Frankly, I don’t care and neither do these other fine men and ladies. But I will tell ya this. Your lovers paid a might pretty penny. We’re paid to make you bitches into perfect slaves. And you’ll note that I keep calling you bitches. I ain’t tryin to insult ya’s. I’m just callin ya what ya are. Think of it as another way of callin ya a recruit. For this here operation bitch sounds better than recruit. Got it? Good!

“Now, I’m sure you all are wonderin what’s gonna happen to you. Well, in simple terms, we’re gonna treat ya like animals. We’re all gonna have a nice dog and pony show. And you all are gonna be the dogs and ponies.

I had expected no less.

“You all are gonna learn to be slave girls too. So that makes three stages ya gotta go through. You’re gonna spend a week in each phase. You’re gonna spend a week as ponies, a week as dogs, and a week as slave girls. After that you’ll spend a week in the role your owner wished you to be returned in. By the time you bitches all leave here you all should have a real good idea how to act nice and obedient like.

“Now, I know some of ya are back for yur second or third time. I want ya all to help the ones who are just getting acquainted with this here operation. We made sure at least one of ya veterans are in each group. Try and make these here rookies feel at home. After all, you know what it’s like to be sent here without knowin what’s gonna happen.

“Let’s bring in my friends to show ya what ya all are getting into. Chelsea, Send in my girls, would ya?”

From the far end I could just make out the procession. Four slave girls entered, each dressed in a blue skirt, a blue sheer blouse, and blue knee high boots. Their boots had five inch stilettos. Behind two of them, ponygirls were pulled along on their leashes, each dressed nearly the same as the way I had been when Brandon had dressed me. The ponies were dressed in gold. They wore gold corsets, gold pony boots, gold collars, blinders, bits, etc. They even had gold tails. Finally came the dogs. Two girls crawled behind their leaders as the slave girls dragged them by heavy leashes. The dogs wore pointed red boots, red corsets that didn’t cover the breasts, a short red tail, and a heavy red collar. Their faces were covered by a myriad of straps that were attached to a patent leather plate that fit from nose to chin. I noticed that their cheeks bulged which indicated to me that their mouths were quite stuffed.

“I’ll explain about the dogs first. These girls are doin time for runnin up a debt. Their husbands are good friends of mine. They just happened to run into a little money problem so they rented them out to me for a nice sum of money. They ain’t real happy about the deal but when they get back to their hubbys they’re gonna find out they’re gonna live like queens for a long time.

“These ponies are a gift to me from my wife. Just got em on my birthday. Impressive, aren’t they? They’re a matched pair and they’re over six feet ten in those eight inch heels. They been trainin for six months. They are my pride and joy.

“Finally I’ll mention the slave girls. These girls’ jobs is to do exactly as their told. They normally don’t wear no bonds except for that leather belt and that collar. Any time we need to do things to them though we put a chain or two on them to make em docile. We also tend to blindfold them a lot. Makes em look so much more sweeter.

“Anyway, for sex, we use the dogs to suck cock and we use the slave girls for anal sex. We don’t do no straight sex here. Don’t want to send our bitches back pregnant. We don’t take no for an answer by the way. Say no and get shocked. We don’t care if you’re scared. We don’t care about your religion or your upbringing. All we want is immediate obeyin. If you don’t learn that lesson quick, you’re gonna regret it.

“So, yur probably all wonderin why these girls got here and if they’re here against their will. Well, it’s a sort of yes and sort of no thing. All these girls signed a pre-nup with their lover that had a big payout if they stayed with them for five years. They’re all from fairly poor upbringins and they all married into big bucks. Well, their husbands didn just fall off the turnip truck and they were inta this lifestyle anyways. So they said fine, I’ll marry ya, if ya agrees to get some trainin. These here girls signed up ta be married for at least five years. Durin that time they can be rented out or held as collateral on a loan. In this case it’s a little of both.

“For the most part, any time you hear of a girl that’s here for a long time, it’s either because they volunteered or because they’re here as collateral. We offer something we call sub-principle loans. What that means is that we only ask for 90% of the loan back. There’s no interest. For that we borrow their pets and rent them out for profit. They don’t like it but they know that their husbands need the money to get started quickly in their business. They know that when they go home they’ll find themselves richer so they really can’t complain.

“The dogs are here because their husbands are starting a shipping company in Vegas and they needed some fast cash. The ponies have hubbies that are setting up a communication firm. And finally my slave girls are being paid by me to do this because they have a business that they want to start. So they’ll be here for three years and I’ll pay them a million dollars interest free. “OK, let’s get ya sorted. The girls in front of the red room will be dogs. The gold room girls get to be ponies. And the blue room girls are gonna be sex slaves. I ain’t gonna ask if you got any questions because frankly I don’t care. Do what you’re told. I’ll see ya all tomorra.

We were finally out of our bondage gear. The only things we now wore were the piercings in our tongue and the gadgets between our legs. A fresh dildo was inserted into the empty rear socket. We were going to have to sleep with that stuff inside us. Thankfully they also took the leashes off of our tongues. I was so grateful to be mobile again.

My three new friends were name Anne, Samantha, and Erin. Our four trainers were named Tina, Carrie, Natalie, and Beth. They were all from the south and had thick accents. I suspected they were from Alabama. They ignored me when I asked.

Tina and Natalie were the leaders apparently and they weren’t nice at all. Tina stepped up to me and pointed towards the door. “OK bitches, get in the room,” she said sternly. Considering her tone of voice, I knew we didn’t have a lot of options. We all piled into the long, wide room.

“The bathroom’s in the back. You,” she said point to Anne. “You’re bitch 11. This is your bed. Climb on the bed and get on all fours.” Anne hesitated for a moment. Carrie was standing next to her and, with a lightning move, grabbed a remote from her belt and pressed a button.

“Ahhh,” Anne said as she grabbed her crotch, dropping to her knees. “Get your ass over there and climb on the bed, NOW!” Carrie yelled.

Anne ran to the bed and knelt on all fours as directed. She was crying and shaking. When I looked at the other girls, I realized we were all shaking and crying. I guess they got their point across because none of us hesitated at all when we were ordered to do the same. I was bitch 12, Samantha was bitch 13, and Erin was bitch 14.

“Two of us will be on duty through the night. When we give an order, obey it or suffer.”

Natalie, a tall redhead, walked over to Erin’s bed. “Welcome back,” she said to her. “Third time here, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Erin said.

“Since you know the routine, I’ll leave you to explain things to these other bitches. You do remember all the rules, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” she replied.

“Good. We’ll see you bright and early. First march is at 8 a.m. so don’t stay up too late.”

All the trainers left the room at that point. Erin looked to her right and waited for the door to close before she hopped off the bed. “You can all get down now,” she said to us. We got off our beds and walked over to Erin.

“I’m Erin. This is my third stay here.” I was surprised how well she talked with the things in her tongue.

“I’mvve Ellie,” I mumbled.

“I’mvve Sam.”

“I’mvve Anne. Vwat thid she mean avout rules?”

“I’ll explain over a snack. The last time I was here they stocked the fridge with lots of fruit. You girls hungry?”

“Yea,” Sam said.

“The kitchen is in the back. Behind the kitchen is the bathroom if you need anything. I’d better show you that disgusting feature of this place first. Come along.”

“Howv ken vu talk vith those thins in ya mouvf,” I mumbled.

“You get used to it. Before long you forget they’re even there.”

I looked puzzled. That couldn’t be true. Could it?

We walked past the kitchen and into the bathroom. It was relatively large as bathrooms go. There was a large shower with four heads. On the opposite wall were four sinks. But there were no toilets. We all looked confused.

“The connection on your catheter connects here,” Erin pointed out. “You can pull the hose out pretty far. The really disgusting part is behind this hatch. Watch me.”

Erin pushed a button in front of a circular hatch. The hatch swung down and held a vertical pipe that extended roughly three inches above a padded seat. She then reached behind herself and pressed the two buttons. The plug came out easily. Then she put the plug in a waiting socket behind the hatch. Finally she sat down on the seat, impaling herself on the pipe.

“It’s automatic. You’ll get flushed, dried, and lubricated. When you get up the hatch will close after a few seconds. A new plug will be deposited in this tray.”

“I was told that we’d only have to wear these things some of the time,” I complained.

“You wear them whenever you’re in an animal role. We’re going to be ponies for the next week. Then you’ll be dogs while Sam and I go to slave girl training. For the third week we’ll finish the set. You’ll end up finishing as slave girls while we end up as dogs. During the fourth week you get put into the role your owner enjoys the most. You should hope it’s not the dog role. That’s the worst.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because they really treat you like a dog. They make you bark and fetch and do tricks. And the sexual act of choice for dogs is cock sucking. And I hate cock sucking. My husband makes me do it every day.”

“If you don’t like it, then why do you put up with it?” I asked.

Erin looked at me strangely. “Are you kidding?”

“Am I missing something?”

“Yea, I’d say so,” Anne replied.

“We’re all part of the Rich Bitch Club. When we got married we all signed pre-nups with our beloveds. We all married into money. If we leave before we’ve spend five years we get a few thousand. If we stay for five years we’re guaranteed five million. We can’t leave. We have to go through the training. Aren’t you married yet?”

“Not yet. Brandon hasn’t even proposed. He just insisted I go through this training before he even proposed. I could kill him. Hey, he wouldn’t have sent me here just to get rid of me, could he? This isn’t some sort of white slavery operation, is it?”

“No. It’s not a white slavery ring. You’re definitely going back to your lover. Hell, if this were a slavery ring, would they have let me go free; twice? My hubby insists I go back for a refresher course every six months. I’ve been set free twice. Besides, training of this type costs a quarter of a million bucks! There are much cheaper ways to get rid of a woman.”

“I’m just so frustrated. I didn’t know that I was going to be tortured like this. I hadn’t figured on all this crazy stuff.”

“Me neither. My husband and me never did a lot of heavy stuff. Have you ever done extreme bondage?” Sam asked.

“I was a ponygirl and I’ve worn kinky boots and arm binders and stuff like that. Brandon took me to Luigi’s in New York. Have any of you ever heard of it?”

Anne laughed as she started combing her long blond hair. “Marty took me there three months ago. What a crazy guy!”

“I was there six months ago,” Sam replied.

“Luigi’s is the key,” Erin said. “It’s there that they collect your statistics and offer discounts. Your boyfriend probably got a deal on the training. You’re gorgeous. I’m sure at least a few of the men want to fuck you blind. So, yea, we’ve all been there. I haven’t been there in almost two years. When I get home I’ll have to make another trip. I’ve lost a lot of weight and I need new outfits.

Before I forget, there’s a green light on the panel above the flusher. If you need to go, wait till the green light is on. There are two flushers. You’ll notice the magazine rack between them. They usually put a lot of bondage stuff in the rack. I’m sort of surprised it’s empty. They’ll probably take care of that tomorrow. Anyway, does anyone need a cleaning?”

Sam walked to the fitting and plugged in her catheter. I took the other spot and plugged in too. “I’mve thusty,” I mumbled.

“This way,” Erin said after we had risen from the seats.

Now back in the kitchen we found that there was quite a variety of drinks in the refrigerator, including iced tea, some sodas, and bottled water. We all must have had the same idea because we all grabbed a bottle of water. I noticed a coffee pot on the counter along with pre-packaged decaffeinated coffee. There were plastic utensils galore.

Sam opened the refrigerator. “If anyone’s hungry there’s sliced ham and turkey in the fridge along with cheese and rolls. Looks like a pretty good stock.”

I grabbed an apple from the fruit tray on the table. I started eating it without realizing that the grommets in my tongue would cause problems. I managed though.

We all gingerly sat down. It was then I noticed that the padded chairs had a void hidden under the upholstery. The plate between our legs sunk into the leather, rather than digging into our asses. It made sitting on the insert almost comfortable.

“So, since you’re the expert, what elvse can you tell us?” Sam asked. “Hey, I almost said that legivbly!”

“I told you that you’d get used to those things. Well, in this role we’re gonna do a lot of marching and a lot of licking pussy.”

“What?” I asked. “I’m not a lesbian!”

“None of us are. And most of the trainers aren’t either. They have no intention of falling in love with another woman. All they want is obedience. They want to break you so you do whatever you’re told, regardless of what you consider disgusting. If a trainer tells you to lick her pussy you had better do a fantastic job. That little gadget between your legs can hurt like hell.”

“You’re not kidding!” Anne replied.

“You only got a tickle. They can double what you felt and leave it on for an hour or more if you’re really stubborn. That dildo can hurt you without causing the slightest damage. So they have no problem turning it on and walking away while you writhe on the floor.”

We all put our hands between our legs suddenly, realizing what the consequences of having that plug inside us meant. “Do not try and remove it. The anal insert is a secondary punishment device. If you pull out the vaginal insert without using the key, the anal insert will fire. And you don’t want that!”

“What else can we look forward to?” Anne asked.

“We’ll do a lot of marching. They’ll put us on the stepping track in full pony gear.”

“What’s a stepping track?” Sam asked.

“It’s an oval track with alternating tiles on it. You have to march around the track.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I said.

“There’s more. You have to step on every other tile only. There are white and red tiles. If you step on a red tile you get a little tickle. The tickles grow into shocks if you hit the wrong tiles in succession and lessen if you hit the right ones. The tiles are exactly twelve inches apart. They want us all to march at exactly the same length of stride. It can be done but it can be a little painful to learn.

“I’d better show you your closets and dressing tables. If I know Tina, she’ll be pretty pissed if I miss anything. And I don’t like to be her whipping post.”

We walked back into the bedroom area. Erin pointed out the dressing table and wardrobe closet to us. The closet was packed with corsets, boots, harnesses and bridles. It was all carefully arranged, the majority of items hanging from hooks. The dressing table had many drawers, the bottom left holding a series of harness and simple ball gags. Hanging from a hook on the inside of the wardrobe door was a silk robe.

Is it OK to wear this? I asked.

“Yes,” Erin replied. Just don’t have it on when they come in to rig you up.

“Can we leave this room?” I asked as I slipped mine on. The rest of the girls all took the hint.

“Yes, but you can’t leave the assembly hall. Oh, and if you want to get a look at the stepping track, it’s on the other side of the windows. You’ll be able to see the width of the tiles. It might help to get an idea of how far to step. The tiles here are the same width. You won’t get punished for stepping on the wrong tile in here so it’s not a bad idea to practice in this room rather than over there.”

“I see your point.”

Samantha wandered over toward the large windows on either side of the colored door and stared straight ahead. I saw her shake her head so I walked over to her. She was pretty upset. I put my arm around her. “Are you OK?” I asked.

“No. Danny didn’t tell me I’d have to do stuff like this. All we had done was a little bondage stuff. We never did anything heavy. Look at me. I’m practically naked!” she cried.

“You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t even know what this ponygirl stuff is all about,” she cried. “I just don’t understand why Danny wanted me to go through this. I’ve given him my entire life. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

We hardly slept. We had twin dildos plugging us and strange metal things piercing our tongues. The nose ring annoyed us whenever we rolled over. We climbed into our assigned beds and chatted for a while. The tone was somber and depressing. We gave up on the topic and decided to call it a night.

I must have fallen asleep sometime during the night. Early the next morning the lights started flickering on and off and a loud beeping could be heard throughout the room. “What the hell?” I asked.

All the girls were awake and had pulled themselves up into a sitting position. “Attention all bitches. Prepare for inspection. Repeat: Prepare for inspection in fifteen minutes.”

Erin got out of her bed and started straightening the covers. “Hurry up, make your bed and get on top of it on all fours.” Her tone had a sense of urgency in it. We got the message and popped out of bed. I finished my duty and went to the bathroom to empty my bladder. When I got back, Sam was heading my way, obviously to do the same.

We were all on our beds in the submissive doggie position when two women walked in. These were the subordinate trainers that had been here last night but had not said anything. “My name is Lois and this is Mel,” she said, taking the lead. “11 and 12, I’ll be training you two. Mel will handle 13 and 14. We won’t be referring to you by name. First, is everyone in the correct bed?”

We all nodded and said yes. “Excellent. First, we’ll put on your collars then we’ll go over a few things.”

The collar was a wide, ornate, and heavy leather collar. It wrapped around my neck and held my head high. Lois put two screws in the back and locked it in place. I watched as every girl had the same thing done.

“These collars are waterproof. You will keep them on at all times while in ponygirl training. Now, let’s talk about the basic poses. This is called the “Basic Fours”. We expect you to be in this pose when we enter each morning. In this pose the hands are on the ground with fingers spread wide in front of you. Your thumbs will point toward each other. Please adjust your hands now,” she said.

I opened my fingers and knelt quietly looking up at Lois and the other girls.

“Eyes front, mouth open,” Lois ordered.

She looked at Anne. “You too,” she said sternly. I suppose Anne complied. I was too frightened to look. Sam was across the aisle from me. She stared straight ahead with her mouth agape.

“Good,” Lois said. “This is the “Inspection Position”. You’ll assume it each morning when we give the order “Prepare for inspection”.

She walked over in front of me and looked in my mouth, grabbing the nose ring and lifting to afford her a better view. “Stick out your tongue,” she said. I did so. She inspected it with a flashlight. “Looks good. Did you flush yourself since you arrived?”

“Yes,” I said.

“The correct way to respond to a question is to address your trainer properly. We prefer you use the title ma’am. Do you understand?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” I said.

“Use the flusher first thing,” she ordered. We don’t need any sanitary problems.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, nearly on the verge of tears.

The other three girls’ inspections went in a similar manner, with an oral inspection followed by a question or two about bowel movement. I suppose it was necessary.

“We’ll be back at 7:30. You’ll be in your ponygirl regalia. Anne, you are in charge. Erin knows how to dress a pony. She’ll show you what to do. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” Anne said.

“Fair enough. Don’t disappoint me. The consequences would be unpleasant,” she said.

And they left.

I watched out of the corner of my right eye, waiting for the door to close before hopping down from my bed. I straightened the sheets, grabbed my robe, and met the girls in the center of the room. I was pretty spooked. But Sam was nearly hysterical.

“What are they going to do to us?” she nearly screamed.

“Calm down,” Erin said, trying to ease Samantha’s fears. “All we’re going to do is march in kinky clothes.”

“What about the sex?” she cried. “I can’t do that kind of stuff!”

“It’s not that bad,” Erin said. “It’s not nearly as bad as sucking cock.”

Sam looked at Erin with wide eyes. Erin and the rest of us finally got it. “You never did that either, did you?” Anne asked.

Sam shook her head.

“You’re kidding, right?” Erin asked.

Sam shook her head again.

“Oh boy!” Anne said.

“Well, you’re gonna have to deal with it. Look, we’re all in the same boat. We’re all going to do the exact same acts as you. This is my third trip here. It isn’t that bad. Just do it.”

“Yea,” I said. ”You can’t avoid it. They’ll just punish you until you submit. Think of it as a medical treatment, like having something disgusting like a rectal exam or something like that. It’s annoying and humiliating. But you can get through it.”

Sam looked up at me. She smiled awkwardly. “I’ll try,” she said.

“Let’s get cleaned up. We only have forty five minutes to get ready,” Erin said.

We all walked to the bathroom. Erin acted like a little general, asking who had to go first. I sat on the flusher first. Sam sat on the one beside me. It felt strange to have water pumped into my bowels like this. I also took the hose from beside the hatch and plugged it into my catheter. Erin helped Sam do the same.

While we were doing our business, Erin pointed Anne to the mouthwash and toothbrushes. “The toothbrushes are disposable. Throw it out when you’re done.”

Erin and Anne quickly brushed and rinsed. “I need to go,” Anne said.

“Close the hatch so it will recycle,” she said to us. I closed the lid and saw the light turn red on the control panel. I also grabbed the new dildo from the dispenser and put it inside me. Then I helped Sam put hers in.

“You two brush your teeth. I’ll get the water going.”

Erin turned on the water to all four showers. Then she sat down on a recycled flusher and told Anne to do the same. Anne needed no further encouragement. Anne reached to her left and grabbed the connection for the catheter. “This is disgusting!” Anne said.

“You’ll get no argument from me. I’m not a big fan of this system. They should just let us go naturally,” Erin replied.

“Maybe we should go on strike,” I joked.

“Go ahead and try. If you think Anne suffered, just go ahead and try.”

“No, I guess that would probably be a bad idea.”

“Ya think?”

We were all clean, inside and out. Breakfast consisted of a little fruit and some boxed cereal. We were pressed for time and Erin commented that it would be a bad thing to not be ready when they came for us. So we all rushed breakfast.

“There are some things you should all know,” Erin said.

“More?” I asked.

Erin smiled. “They group teams on each side of the room. Sam is my partner and Anne is yours.”

“That’s not so bad. Anne and I are getting along pretty well, aren’t we?”

Anne smiled.

“In a week we’ll be separated from you. I think you two are going to the kennel next door. Sam and I are going to the slave quarters. You two will finish as slave girls. We’ll finish our stay as dogs.”

“You ventined dat thoo uts. I still can’t imvagine why they’re thuing this to us,” I mumbled.

“Stop worrying about it,” Erin said. “Just do what you’re told.”

“OK, OK, I thet it.”

“There’s one other thing. They’re gonna activate these special collars around our necks. When they turn them on we won’t be able to talk anymore. All we’ll be able to do is whinny. Do any of you know sign language?”

Sam raised her hand. “I do. I never expected that I’d need to use it for myself.”

Erin signed to Sam and Sam returned the favor. “At least we can communicate,” Sam said.

“Lay out your gear on your beds. You’ll need the body suit, corset, boots, the gloves and the hood first. Hurry up; we don’t have a lot of time.”

Erin directed us to put the body suit and the hood on first. Then we had to slip on the corset, which buckled in front with wide belts. The corset covered the breasts with black leather. I felt a lot of back support from it. “Pull each roller buckle to the first gold hole,” she said. Every day, go to the next hole until you can’t pull it any tighter.”I watched as Sam adjusted her corset, shifting it in place and tightening the straps.

“Next, put on your boots. They have thick ankle and knee supports but they have two inch platforms. The soles are pretty wide so you should be able to get used to them quickly.”

I stepped into the boots and was amazed at how high they were. The six inch spikes made me feel like I was on stilts. “This iz amazing,” I mumbled.

Since the gloves were mitten shaped, Erin said to avoid putting them on until the last minute. Instead, she said to put the bit and bridle on. Ann, Sam, and I put them on while Erin waited. She had more to say. “You have to put the pins on the bottom of the bit into the holes in the back of your tongue. It’s annoying but you’ll be punished if you don’t do it. Press on both sides of the bit to depress the catches.”

I put the bit in my mouth and felt for the pins. The bit was curved slightly so that it would grab my tongue far back. It was a fairly thin bit that was made of a very strong steel or aluminum. The areas where it went across my teeth were padded though.

“OK, now we take care of the arms and the tails. Everyone should retrieve their tails from their closet along with their arm binder. Anne, come over here and I’ll demonstrate how this goes on. All of you watch.”

Sam had already put on her gloves. Erin pulled the gloves on more firmly and made sure the zipper was fully closed. “Make sure every zipper on every item is closed. As the days go on they’ll forgive you less. You’ll be punished for any of our mistakes.”

“Why me?”

“Your first name begins with an ‘A’,” she said bluntly.

Anne grimaced knowing that there was little to do but accept the job. “OK, you make sure the gloves are on firmly then you pull them behind her back and slip on the binder. The straps go across the chest like this. Then you tighten the black cross straps across her wrists and her elbows.”

“What about the tail?” Anne asked.

“Do you see this ring?” she asked as she held up the end of a strap coming from the underside of the arm binder.

“Yes,” she said.

“You take this lovely long tail and slip the ring over the plug. Then you slip it into the vertical socket on the ass plate. It will lock when you rotate it into the proper position. Can you manage that?”

“I think so.”

“Just make sure every strap is tight. Go ahead and do Ellie while I get my bit in place. Sam, are you OK?”

Sam nodded.

Go stand in front of your bed and face towards the door. Then drop to your right knee. Everyone should kneel on the knee closest to the center of the aisle. Anne and Ellie, you’ll kneel on your left knee.”

We watched as Sam did as Erin had told her.

“Don’t forget, these collars will be activated when the trainers arrive. You have to make horse sounds only or it will trigger the dildo to fire. Oh, and Anne; put on your bridle and gloves. The trainers will put your arm binder and tail on.”

Erin quickly put on her bit and bridle. I had mine in place already. While Erin slipped on her gloves, Anne helped me on with mine. Then she finished my equipment and inspected me. She tightened on strap on my bridle and declared me ready. I stepped in front of my bed, turned towards the door and knelt on my left knee.

I watched as Anne finished up Erin’s equipment. Erin knelt in front of her bed. Anne’s gloves went on as did her bit and bridle. She had carefully arranged the tail and the binder on her bed. She knelt on her left knee and waited.

It wasn’t long before the trainers arrived. “You,” the one trainer said. “Stand up and let me finish your outfit.”

Anne did as requested and turned around to allow full access to her arms. It took just seconds to install the binder and the tail.

“Let me make a thorough inspection. 11, follow me.”

The trainer with long red hair walked to me and ordered me to stand. She checked my bridle, my hood, and my body suit. “Very good; all the straps are nice and tight.”

They walked first to Erin and finally to Sam. Erin’s outfit was perfect. “Looks like you remembered how to be a pony. Excellent work.”

Sam had one strap on her arm binder a notch too loose. “This strap should be two notches tighter.” Watch how little effort it takes to push her elbows together.” The woman pressed Sam’s elbows close, producing quite a bit of slack in the binding strap. “See? I’ll tighten it this time. If I catch you leaving a strap this loose again, you’ll suffer for it.

“OK, ponies; now it’s time to learn the language. Everyone come to attention and face the door. We’re going to learn communication skills.”

“Your friend may have told you that the collars will stop all speech. Well, since she last visited this place, there have been some changes to the workings of the discipline collars. First, and most importantly, we can turn them on and off. The old model stayed on constantly. Secondly, the old model simply kept your quiet. This one will require you to whinny. Any words out of your mouth must be in the form of horse-speak. If you talk, if you say even one human syllable, the collar will send a signal to your crotch and you’ll receive a very unpleasant reward.” Lois took the remote from her belt and pressed a series of buttons. At the same time I felt the inside of the collar tightened slightly. “When your collar tightens like this, it’s armed. If you talk now you’ll feel the pain.

“OK, 11, whinny for us,” Lois ordered.

“Nee Hee Hee Hee,” she said.

“Excellent.”

“Number 12, If you please,”

I followed the same routine as did Erin and Sam.

“Excellent. We’ll have your collars active from 7 a.m. till 7 p.m. Now let’s talk about these new and innovative boots. In the past we had to constantly watch our ponies so they would learn the high step. Progress was difficult for our girls. So we came up with these special boots that monitor your knee movement. Once armed, if you break your knee you have to lift your foot until you feel the click in the knee joint. I’m activating them now.”

I felt my knee pads click and knew that the boots were activated. As I stood there I thought of how I was going to walk. I couldn’t move my arms so balance was going to be hard to manage. But I had walked in Brandon’s extra tight bondage before so I figured that I could manage it. But Anne was going to be first.

The second trainer, Mel, stood next to Anne and ordered her to take a few steps. She didn’t bother working on her stride or pace. She just helped her get used to the tall heels. “Always start with your right foot. Lift your knee until you feel the click. If you lower your knee before the click you’ll feel a low vibration in your pussy. Each mistake raises it a notch and each proper step lowers it. If you go past the fourth level your dildo will fire. Now, whinny to acknowledge my training,” she ordered.

“Nee hee hee hee,” Anne replied.

One by one we each were led by the arm and taken around the room. First we simply worked on getting used to the boots and their requirements. After a lap we each were allowed to rest by standing in place. Then we were forced to march around the room a second time. My legs got tired almost immediately and I failed to lift my left knee correctly. The buzzing started. It wasn’t a pleasant, erotically stimulating vibration. It was a low pitched annoying one that jarred my pelvis. My next step must have been incorrect as well so I make a special effort to lift my knees higher. Within two steps the buzzing went away.

Now that we knew how to walk, Mel took Anne to the center of the room and had us watch. “Look at the floor. Try and step on every other tile,” she said. I’ll hold your arm. The tiles are twelve inches square. Just put your toe down in the center of each tile and you’ll be fine.”

Anne began lifting her knees and stepping on the white tiles. Mel and Lois watched carefully. Anne seemed to be having a relatively easy time with it. Her stride seemed to be nearly perfect and she didn’t have to force herself to reach or hobble. Her stride seemed just right. When she turned around and marched back I could see her eyes concentrating on the tiles and her steps. Finally the ordeal was over and it was Samantha’s turn.

Samantha struggled at first with her balance then began making quick progress. After two trips down the length of the room she could hit nearly every tile perfectly. But she tired on the third pass and stumbled. Trying to catch her balance she must have taken four or five short steps. The shocker hit her between the legs and she crumpled to the floor in agony. The trainers grabbed her just in time to keep her from smashing her face on the floor. They took her to her bed and had her kneel on the floor in front of it.

“Try and catch your breath,” Lois said, calming her. “You did fine. You haven’t walked in heels much. I can tell. You’ll learn though. OK, let’s get 12 up and running next. We’ll save Miss 13 for last.”

Since I already had experience in this role, the ponygirl scene was sure to be a snap. They took me to the end of the room and had me step on the white tiles. “Whenever you’re ready you may begin,” Mel said. I lifted my right knee and felt the click. I leaned forward and put my foot in the center of the next white square. The distance seemed just about right but not quite. The distance was just a little strange for my stride so I had to concentrate. I continued to high step down the length of the room, each trainer walking beside me and gently holding my arms. I was told to turn and we headed back. By the second time I had walked down the row I thought I had it down pretty good. “That’s really good,” Lois said. Now try it without the support. Needless to say I had it down pretty good. I hardly touched any red tiles.

Finally it was Erin’s turn and she aced the routine. “Not too bad,” Lois said, watching Erin trot past us. “You’ve been practicing, I see.”

We were taken into the hallway, through a series of doors and finally into a wide area adjacent to the main track where we were going to march. The area we were on was designed like the siding on a train track. Hanging from the overhead track were brackets that resembled chairs. Anne was strapped in first. The height of the arms was adjusted until it was just below her waist. Straps were attached. I watched Lois grab a circular weight and slip it onto a heavy bar at Anne’s hip. Mel put one on the other bar. “That will simulate the weight of a rider. That’s ten pounds, the weight of the pull bars on a horse cart. Look at the floor. The tiles are white and gray. You have ten feet before you merge into the main path. Keep your feet on the white and keep your knees up. The first day’s march will be split into four minute intervals. You’ll get four minutes of marching followed by two minutes of rest.”

Lois pressed a button and I watched Anne move forward, pulled by the trolley. She stopped at a line that was ten feet from the merge. I was installed next, followed by Sam, and Erin. Lois started us up and we moved down the line and into the main track.

Lifting your knees for anything more than a few seconds is much more tiring than you could ever imagine. Marching to a particular stride that you’re not used to using is a lot of work too. But doing all this in six inch heels with heavy soled shoes is just horrific!

But here we were, marching in a parade around the dog boned shaped track. Both sides of the track were lined with glass walls. The back stretch featured a wall that allowed us to look outside while we marched. But that was a trap. As soon as I looked I stepped on a red square and started feeling the buzzer go off in my crotch. I started lifting my knees and putting them down on the white tiles. The buzzing fortunately went away.

Four minutes passed rapidly. Since the path was roughly two hundred yards long we stopped nearly three quarters of the way down the back stretch. I looked down and made sure my feet were completely on the white squares. Thankfully they were and my dildo was not buzzing.

I was concentrating on my own pace so much that I hadn’t gotten a chance to look through the window to my left. Looking through it allowed me to observe the oncoming path we had just marched down. Lo and behold there were other ponies standing there. Apparently we were not the only ponies at the academy. Each girl was dressed identically to us. Each wore the thin chrome bit, a full hood, and all the other harnesses and straps. I must have become immune to the sight because I just shrugged it off and looked outside instead. Later I’d realize how much I’d progressed that the sight of a girl in heavy bondage didn’t bother me anymore.

My attention was drawn to the outdoors. The sky was deep blue with only one or two clouds in the sky. I could see a series of horse carts lining a paved path. Each was set diagonally to the path. I noticed they all had twin pullbars. Then I noticed that a guy was walking up to one of the carts with a gas can. Well, that answered that question. The carts were obviously self-propelled. At least we wouldn’t have to haul their full weight around.

The marching got boring quite quickly. We marched for four minutes and stood still for two. Rinse and repeat. Two hours later we were worn out and our feet hurt. We were going to have to do this for a whole week? I guess we’d become conditioned. I surely hoped that was the case.

What we were never going to become conditioned to was the absolute cruelty that sometimes was shown by the trainers; the most horrific display being how Samantha was taken and introduced to oral sex. It was a display that would haunt my dreams for years to come. It was rape of one woman by another. It was sickening.

When we returned from our march we were placed on our knees in front of our beds. Lois praised us for marching a nearly clean circuit. She said that we averaged no more than five missteps per lap. She had never seen a group of ponygirls do so well.

Now it was time for the other half of our pony training, the use of our mouths on them. “I understand we have a virgin mouth here,” Lois said. “13, stand up and come here.”

I glanced to my left and watched Sam rise to her feet and teeter over towards Lois, lifting her knees as required by the boots. “Kneel in front of me so that everyone can see what you do. That’s right. Now, I’m going to lift my skirt and you’re going to press your face into my pussy. Don’t be afraid. It won’t bite.”

I heard Samantha whimper. Suddenly she collapsed to the ground writhing in pain. “Horses don’t cry. If you are suffering and upset over what we’re going to do, do it silently. If the collar picks up any hint that you’re crying this is going to happen again. Now, get back up on your knees and let’s try again.”

I thought it was so cruel. Samantha was the most fragile of all of us and here she was, kneeling in front of this bitch. Why couldn’t she be a little gentler on her. If I wasn’t still bound in this gear I’d have gone over to that bitch and slugged her. But my arms were bound behind my back and I was in skyscraper heels. What could I do but watch and pity that poor girl.”

“Tongue out,” Lois said. “Just touch my clit with the tip of your tongue. Try not to get those fittings hooked on anything.”

Samantha’s face disappeared under the black leather skirt.  I saw Lois smile. Mel was standing nearby and was smiling as well.  “How is she doing?” Mel asked.

“She’s a little tentative. “Move your tongue a little faster, Honey,” she said. I saw her grab the remote. Samantha’s body jerked as she was given a shock between her legs. “That poor girl,” I thought.

Mel took her turn with Samantha after Lois had coached her to her satisfaction. I watched as each order was punctuated with a shock that must have really hurt. I watched Sam jerk each time they shocked her. I could see a lot of movement under Mel’s blue skirt. She must have been so scared that she was just moving her tongue as fast as she could.

The ordeal was repeated twice with each of us. We had to perform an oral sex act on each trainer. My experience wasn’t much better than Sam’s but I suppose that having done oral sex with Brandon had conditioned me to some extent. I considered it disgusting but it wasn’t mentally disturbing. Sam was essentially raped by a woman. What worse cruelty could one woman inflict on another?

After the sessions were over they released our arms and allowed us to pull off our gloves. We were free of our bits but had to keep our hoods and bridles in place. We also had to keep our boots on and that meant we had to high-step all around the room. That was annoying.

Before they left Lois suggested we continue to practice our prancing. “Practice a few steps with your eyes closed and see how close you come to hitting your marks. It’s good training. If you can hit your marks without thinking about it then you’re going to have more success on the track. We’ll be back at two to take you out for your afternoon march,” she said. “Because there’s so much trauma here, I’m turning off the collars. 13 needs some of your comforting. That red button is for the intercom. If things get out of hand, call for help.”

As I looked towards the intercom button Lois walked out the door. The sound of the door slamming seemed to trigger us into action at once. We all walked over to Sam, who happened to be sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Are you OK?” Erin asked her.

Sam looked up at us and smiled. “I’m fine,” she said.

“Sure you are,” I said. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her. I grunted from sitting on the anal insert. “Don’t lie to us. We’re a team. Just let it out.”

“No, I’m fine,” she repeated. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Come on,” Anne said. “You were all in tears when you learned that you were going to have to do this stuff.”

“I’m OK now. I just decided to do it cold.”

“Come again?” I said.

“It’s a job, a chore. I’m not going to get emotional about it.”

“Just a little while ago you were in tears, on the verge of hysteria. Now you’re acting like this? I don’t get it,” I said.

“While we were marching I decided to just treat this like a chore. I knew they were going to force me to do these things. I just decided that I was going to do it and get it over with. These tasks aren’t going to take more than a few minutes per session. I just asked myself if I could go through this misery for fifteen minutes a day. It’s going to be disgusting but I can deal with fifteen minutes of misery.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Anne said. “It is only a few minutes, isn’t it?”

“Let’s get something to eat,” Sam said. I’m starved!”

My eyes opened wide. “You’re hungry?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

Notes: Brandon and I decided to keep separate diaries of our activities during my training. From this point forward, what you see in italics are my entries in my diary. Brandon’s observations will be written in normal text.

Phase X: An Understanding

Brandon:

The box arrived via special courier. The wooden crate was roughly four feet long and two feet square. Two men lifted it with rope handles and manhandled it onto a dolly. They wheeled it into the living room and proceeded to uncrate its contents. I was beyond excitement!

The crate was accompanied by a tall lady wearing a Stetson and ornately decorated cowgirl boots. “Long time no see,” I said.

“It’s been, what, four years?”

“Something like that. So, how did they take the request?”

“Well, when they found out the famous obedience trainer, Stephanie Markab, was going to train someone at their facility, well, they just couldn’t say no. Well, that and the extra fifty grand you paid them for the room.”

“Money talks. Let me get a good look at you!”

I clasped her shoulders in my hands and held her at arm’s length.

She was dressed in brown leather pants and a pink cotton sweater that clung to her large breasts. 

“You look amazing,” I commented as I pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek.

I had known Stephanie for many years. Now a woman in her late thirties, she had spent her earlier days as a trainer at two of the finest obedience academies in the world, first at Roissy North, and then at London’s Harold Stiltsman’s Academy of Deportment or HSAD for short.

I had known her husband for even longer. Jerrod had been a trainer at Roissy North for six years before he had met Stephanie. He had Stephanie sent to R.N. four times before he was satisfied with her. Since we were close friends, he had leant her to me on occasion as my pet and sometimes as my slave girl. I was always impressed with her skills as a slave and a dog.

Jerrod informed me one day that Stephanie was going to be a trainer at HSAD. I was impressed. In fact I wrote a letter of recommendation for her. I knew she would be amazing as a trainer. Every bit of evidence I saw indicated that she was exactly that.

Eventually the long hours away from home took its toll on their marriage. Jerrod started wandering from his devotion to her and Stephanie seemed to enjoy the attention of her slaves to Jerrod’s. They split up six years ago. Jerrod went back to training at RN and Stephanie started doing freelance work, i.e. private sessions.

Stephanie followed me into the living room and watched as the cage was revealed. Inside was my beloved, kneeling on all fours and secured by many padded bars, springs, and manacles. I noticed a red square of leather attached to her face by several leather straps. I knew that her mouth was actually filled with a soft rubber ball.

“You did her finishing?” I asked.

“As ordered. She’s an amazing pet.”

“I thought she’d do well. Do you have the report?”

Three weeks ago:

Erin was wrong. We weren’t going to be dogs next. She and Sam were. We were going to be slave girls. I was so grateful. Then I realized that our third week would be spent in the kennels. Well, it was a week away. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Our new roommates were named Trish and Leah. We arrived in our cell naked on Sunday night. The entire group of girls was rotated half going in one direction and the other half going in the other. Trish and Leah seemed cowed and very upset.

All our gear had been traded for outfits that would best be placed on women in a harem. We didn’t wear veils but we did wear see through lace and taffeta clothing that revealed much and covered little. We started with a wide leather belt that wrapped around our waists. Wrist and ankle cuffs were added as was a wide collar. This collar had a sensor in it too. It allowed us to talk softly. But if we raised our voice it shocked us between the legs.

Yes, we still wore a dildo. The plate that covered both openings was replaced by a single ring. With nothing covering our asses, it allowed the men full access to our narrower passage, which was their primary source of entertainment. The front opening was never used. And, as surprising as it sounds, we weren’t required to perform oral sex.

The week as slave girls was spent primarily in the parlor. Our main service, other than sexual pleasure, was to serve the men and women. We served drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and even main courses. They punished each of us every day, often using a soft whip or a paddle. Very often we walked around displaying our reddened asses. They often referred to our beatings in terms of how ripe we were. If the color faded on our ass we were given a swat or two to make sure we remained ripe. In fact, we had to assist them in our own punishment. When they required that one of us be held down, we helped them as required. We even whipped and paddled each other on command. This seemed to please them more than anything.

We knew only three names that were in attendance in the old part of the academy. We knew Stephen because he had introduced himself at the start of all this. We also knew Tina, who apparently was second in command. And we knew Natalie, the redhead with hair that fell to her ass.

We treated the experience of that week as a tradeoff. While we didn’t have to endure the severe bondage of the ponygirl outfit, we did have to behave as docile servants.

Stephanie handed the report to me as the crate finally fell away from the heavy iron cage. “I interviewed every one of her handlers. They all had interesting things to say.”

I opened the report and examined her Enthusiasm Quotients. Slaves were judged by their enthusiasm for each role. There were two scores that were tallied. One score was the Displayed Enthusiasm Quotient, or DEQ (pronounced ‘DECK’). This was the enthusiasm that the slave displayed regardless of her Heartfelt Enthusiasm Quotient, or HEQ (pronounced ‘HECK’). Slaves were taught to display the maximum level of enthusiasm regardless of how they felt about the situation. Both DEQ and HEQ were very subjective measurements. DEQ was scored by the handlers. HEQ was provided by the slave. On the final day the slave was given a survey and had to arrange the ten sexual acts in order from most hated to most desired. Based on these answers we provided an evaluation for each pertinent areas of training.

Ellie’s DeQ was highest for dog training and lowest for slave girl situations. However these scores were in conflict with her HEQ. Apparently she absolutely loathed being a pet. She scored it as the third most hated situations, below only lesbian sex, and surprisingly, total freedom. “So,” I said. “She’s a natural masochist.”

“That’s what I gathered. I think the pet training is working on her. Let’s get her out of the cage and I’ll show you.”

Two weeks ago:

I didn’t know what to expect when we walked through the red door. All I knew was that it was going to be horrible. Anne and I were met by two other women. They were brunettes of similar heights and hair styles. I never was told their names.

The kennels were essentially identical to both of the other rooms with the exception that there were no beds, no dressing tables, and no carpeting. Instead there were concrete floors and cages. We walked over to our cages and sat on top of them, waiting for our trainers to finish their paperwork. When they had finished their work they left us to the male trainers.

There was a difference in the way they assigned our trainers. The trainers in this section were men and there were four of them rather than two. We were going to have our own personal trainer it seemed. Mine was called Carl and he was short and somewhat heavy. But he talked in a soft voice when he told me what to do.

He started my preparation by putting the anal insert back inside me. The plate and all the attachments were inserted as well. Then he put me in the boots. These were hip length. Once I was in the boots he told me that I had to keep my calves horizontal at all times. That meant I couldn’t stand up. There was a small tolerance of five seconds that would allow me to climb up on things. But I’d be shocked if I stood up for more than a few seconds.

The collar was as expected, quite wide and heavy. It was made of leather and had electronics embedded inside it. Similar to the voice control collar I had worn when I was a ponygirl, this one would ensure that I didn’t speak in any voice other than dog. I had to bark and whimper. At least, that’s what Carl told me.

With that I was ready for my week of being a dog. Anne and the two other girls got the same treatment. So far though, it didn’t seem all that bad. Why people were making such a big deal had yet to hit us. I just wondered what they were going to do to make us hate this phase of our training more than the others.

That’s when they brought out the tails. Carl showed it to me. It was fluffy and long. When he inserted it the end fell over my ass and draped down my leg. It felt like he had put it into a socket in the dildo but that wasn’t the case. Instead, the plate they used to cover my crack had a bracket for the device. Carl grabbed my ass and pushed it back and forth. “Looks nice,” he said.

“Come on out,” Stephanie urged my pet. “Come on,” she said, leading her by the ring on her collar.

Ellie had been packed well. Her head was covered by a myriad of straps that held a red leather patch over her mouth. Her eyes were covered by a blindfold.  The harness she wore was connected to the frame by springs and straps. This, along with countless pieces of foam padding, protected her well. In fact, everything was padded well. Her knees, her waist, her shoulders, and her head were surrounded by padded crossbars that helped hold her in place and prevent damage during shipment. Now with the bars removed she could easily crawl out of the door.

She crawled out blindly at Stephanie’s encouragement. “Speak,” she ordered.

Ellie barked once.

“Sit,” she ordered. Ellie spread her knees and sat down on her heels, placing her hands just inside her knees.

“Good girl,” she praised.

I silently knelt beside her and was ready to pet her but Stephanie held me back. “Ellie, do you remember what we went over before you were put in the cage?”

“Arf!” she barked.

“Good. Let’s remind you with a little incentive.” Stephanie hit a button on the remote. I saw Ellie’s face wince and her whine like a puppy that had been injured. “Do you understand your place, Ellie?”

“Arf!”

“Then let’s get that muzzle and blindfold off of you. I bet you missed your master.”

When Ellie’s gag was removed I noticed the inside contained a short rubber dildo. I knew that these gags could be set to require constant attention. They were designed to keep a pet quiet by forcing her to constantly apply suction to the device. Failure to do so for more than ten seconds resulted in the dildo making a increasingly coarser buzzing noise inside the woman’s pussy. If it went on for another thirty seconds without attention, the dildo would fire. One or two such punishments usually got the point across.

When Ellie saw me kneeling beside her she jumped on top of me. Instead of kissing me she licked my face with her tongue. They had trained her well. She was whimpering like a dog and licking me all over. I smiled and laughed as Stephanie pulled her off me and made her sit once more. “I really missed you, Honey. Did you miss me?”

“Arf!” she replied enthusiastically, moving her ass and making her tail wag back and forth.

“You really have that dog thing down well. I’m very impressed.”

“Arf!” she said again.

I climbed up off my back and knelt beside her. I started petting her. “Can you stay in this role?” I asked.

Ellie looked at me for a second until Stephanie buzzed her with her control. She whined in pain. “Answer him. If your master so desires would you be willing to stay dressed as a dog?”

Ellie looked at me and at Stephanie. She hesitated for one brief second until Stephanie waved the remote in front of her. “Arf,” she replied.

“I guess that’s a yes,” I said. “Good. I’m going to keep you in this outfit for a few days just to see how well you’ve been trained. Stephanie is going to stay for a few days to help.”

“Ah, I can’t. I can stay overnight and that’s about it. I have a job in Jacksonville. I have to be there in three days. I have a good friend in upstate New York though that would like to move out west. She’s just as experienced as me and she spent six years at Roissy North. I told her I’d give you her number. She’s expecting your call and can be here tomorrow if you send your jet.”

“Is she as good as you?”

“Better!”

A week of hell, that’s what Carl put me through. I slept in bondage. I had short, paw-like gloves wrapped around my hands. I couldn’t use them to do anything except pad along beside my trainer. I really had to act like a dog. I not only had to make sounds like a dog, I had to display enthusiasm by wagging my tail. When my master came into the room I had to bark and crawl up to him like I missed him. When he was away I had to climb into my cage and whimper.

A week passed slowly, much more slowly than usual. Every human element of my life was left behind. I couldn’t eat with my hands. I had to eat like a dog. They fed me nothing but canned beef stew, cold and slimy.  I was always covered in food when I finished. I couldn’t even wash myself or decide when to use the bathroom. I had to beg someone to hook me up to the cleaning machine. The machine they used now was nothing like the one we used in the other rooms. At least those looked like toilets. This one consisted of a wide hose for my main waste and a smaller one for my catheter.

Every day I had to suck men off. I started counting on Monday. By Friday I had sucked off fifty dicks. And I had tended to at least fifteen women as well. They kept me extremely busy. To make matters worse the men now forced me to use my tongue on their balls. It was bad enough that I had to suck men and stick my tongue inside women. But this act was beyond belief. Not only did they want me to lick their entire privates, they wanted me to attack the task as if I were licking an ice cream cone!

I remember the first time Carl made me do it. He took me into a private room and sat on an ordinary wooden chair. “Come here,” he said, pulling on my leash. When my face came close to his crotch I knew what was coming. “Let’s see how good you are with your oral dexterity. Open my zipper and my belt with your teeth.”

Carl held the remote in front of me and hit me with a mild zap. I soon discovered that any time someone told me to do something sexual while I was in this role that I could expect a small shock to get my attention. Well, this got mine. I started using my teeth on his belt first. It was hard to grab the belt with my teeth and push it through the hasp.

“You’ll learn better technique with practice. Here, let me see if this helps,” he said as I felt the jolt between my legs. “Pay attention, Ellie. My cock won’t wait all day for you.”

This shock was much worse than the last but I didn’t have time to pay it any attention. I was so scared! I did exactly as he said, showing the kind of enthusiasm that made me feel like a slut. I so didn’t want to do this! Tears ran down my eyes and my vision blurred.

The belt came free after ten minutes of work. Carl showed no patience, prodding me on with stronger and stronger jolts. One time I screamed in agony as he hit me with a horrible shock. At that point I was shocked a second time for screaming in a human voice. I was supposed to whimper like a dog. The collar wouldn’t even let me suffer using a human voice!

With his belt free and his zipper pulled down I was going to get to work by wrapping my lips around his cock. Carl stopped me by grabbing my hair and pulling me backwards. “No, don’t suck my cock yet. Lick the balls, then the shaft, then suck dick. That’s the way you’ll do it from now on. You always work from the base to the tip unless you’re told otherwise. Lick the first thing that’s available. Got it?”

“Arf!” I barked reluctantly.

“Good, get to work!”

I started licking his balls and immediately backed off. That act was rewarded with a horrible punishment. “Don’t pull back, you bitch. Get your tongue back to work, now!”

Tears ran down my face as my tongue started working on his balls. After a few licks I was somehow able to ignore the taste and the degradation.  “Faster,” he said as he punctuated his order. “Show me that enthusiasm. Make sure you attend to both balls. That’s better. Now lick the shaft until I tell you to take it.”

I kept licking along the shaft with as much vigor as I could muster. It got to the point where I was so occupied by the act that I didn’t have time to feel ashamed. All I could think about was using my tongue on him. I just didn’t want to be punished anymore!

“Take it, Ellie. Once it’s in your mouth look up at me. That’s something I want you to concentrate on. Once you have a man’s cock in your mouth you should try to make eye contact. Before that, concentrate on what you’re doing. But as soon as the cock goes in your mouth lift your eyes to your owner.”

Over the next few days, I was punished often with shocks between my legs. I suppose that made the training more effective. Not only was I frightened of disobeying even one simple order, I also had to strive to obey as quickly as possible. It took little time before I was jumping to commands. By the afternoon of the fourth day I was crawling at top speed to anyone who ordered me to come to them.

Carl started teaching me tricks by day three. Now I was playing with a rubber ball outside in the grass. Sometimes he used a stick. Sometimes he threw a dildo, which he insisted I try to get in my mouth. By Friday of that week I was so well trained that I actually looked forward to walking beside him. It was so much better than being in a cage alone.

I suppose that was another part of the experience that I did not like, the cage. If I were not attending to someone, I was supposed to back into my cage and wait for someone to get me. I was supposed to climb in, pull the door shut with the handle specially designed for my gloved hands, and wait. Sometimes I waited for hours, laying on the padded bottom and trying to rest. At other times, one of the other trainers would open my door and play with me. But most often the other trainers just wanted me to use my mouth on them.

By the end of the week I was completely obedient. I acted in every way like a dog. Carl even removed my collar for a few hours to see if I’d talk. I only made dog sounds. “I’m so proud of you,” he said as he put the collar back on me. Show me how proud you are.”

So I nuzzled up to him and licked his face like I had been taught. “Good girl!”

“So, tell me about this Brenda,” I said to Stephanie.

“She’s actually from England. She spent two years under the tutelage of Sir Phillip of Rotterdam. I think you know him.”

“Yes. He’s very well known in the arena. She spent six years at Roissy? I really like their girls. Every one I’ve met seems to be well trained; not to take anything away from the Academy.”

“Both produce fine slaves. For the kind of money you’re paying to have your bitch trained, you should expect nothing less.”

“What’s Brenda’s style like?”

“Well, she likes to play her role from a middle position.”

“Come again?”

“She has both submissive and dominant elements to her technique. She likes to be a slave to the one paying her while acting as an authority to the slave. She likes to dress in French Maid outfits.”

“Really? A French Maid would come in handy now that we have more rooms to deal with.”

Stephanie looked down at Ellie and smiled. “You’re forgetting something,” she said pointing to Ellie.

“Huh? Oh,” I said. “I was so involved in our conversation that I totally forgot about her.

“Ellie, Honey. I have some good news and some bad news. This is complicated so pay attention, OK?”

“Arf!” she said, looking confused.

“Look around. We’re not living in that cottage anymore. The lumber company made me an offer for the land and I couldn’t turn it down. So I had to sell it. We’ve moved to San Diego. We’re a little northeast of the city at the foot of a mountain range. Let’s go outside and look.”

I took her leash and pulled her along. She seemed stunned, as I fully expected. “I had the building specially designed for us. We no longer have to store our gear in guest rooms and garages. We have a stable for you when you’re a pony and an indoor kennel for you when you’re playing the puppy role. I had special gear installed for all sorts of things like your bathroom duties and such. And the house is a quarter mile from the property line. We have all the privacy we need.

“The bad news is that you’re not going to be CFO of our company anymore.”

Her look was one of utter shock. “No, you see, the board likes you so much that they’re putting you in charge of our Western division in San Diego. I arranged for a hiatus until we’re done with this little situation. Once you’ve finished this training, I’ll take you into town and introduce you. Congratulations,” I said.

“Yes, congratulations Ellie,” Stephanie said.

Ellie looked at me and smiled. I petted her and then I bent down and kissed her. “I love you so much,” I said. I kissed her again.

“You shouldn’t do that while she’s in this role,” Stephanie said. “Dogs shouldn’t be kissed like that.”

I looked at her with a scowl. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s one of my failings. I take dog training to the limit. Speaking of which, are you going to call Brenda?”

“Yes. Let me have her number and I’ll talk to her right now.”

I got her phone number from Stephanie and called her. She was so excited to come to San Diego that she said she had already packed the majority of her gear. I told her I could have my plane pick her up at eight that night. “I’ll be ready,” she said. “And thanks, Love. I do appreciate it.”

Her English accent sounded sweet and alluring. “She should arrive at eight tomorrow morning. Since you’ve worked with Ellie for a week I’m hoping you can go over her little quirks before you leave.

“I can do that.”

One week ago:

The Sunday came that I was looking forward to. No, it wasn’t my release date. It was the day when they’d switch me to the role that Brandon had asked I specialize in. I was sure I was going back to being a ponygirl. I was almost certain that I’d end up in that role. If I wasn’t to be a pony, I was sure I’d end up as a slave girl. I never figured on this!

I was led on a leash to a cottage not far from the main building. Carl met a blonde haired woman named. Stephanie. She wore a black Stetson, high heels and a black leather skirt. “Let me look at the little thing,” she drawled. “Tell me about her.”

Carl gave his observations. He said I didn’t like being a dog and my obedience skills were lacking when it came to the basics. He said I sucked a good cock and used my tongue well. I grimaced at that statement.

“Come along, Honey. We have a lot of work it seems,” she said with that twang in her voice.

She pulled at my leash and I obediently fell behind her left heel and followed along like I had been taught. I was really pissed. It was obvious that I’d have to spend another week on my knees crawling around in these boots and paws.

“I like red leather corsets and I think you’d look very interesting in one. By the way, I talked to your lover yesterday and he can’t wait to see you. He really loves you very much you know.”

When she said that Brandon still loved me it calmed all my fears that he might be doing this to get rid of me. I was so afraid for the past week or two that I was going to be traded or sold to someone, never to see anyone I knew ever again. If Brandon said he was looking forward to seeing me again, well, then all my fears were for naught. I smiled at the thought of having his arms wrapped around me again.

“I know you don’t like this role. That’s fairly obvious. Brandon told me that he loves to see you in severe bondage. It was his suggestion that you learn what it’s like to be his pet. He asked me personally to train you. It’s costing him a lot of money to do so, did you know that?”

“Arf, arf!” I replied in the negative.

“Did you know it costs a quarter of a million dollars to put you in here?”

My eyes opened wide. He’s paying these people that much money to train me. I was stunned. “Arf, arf,” I barked in reply.

“Of course that’s a lifetime fee. If you need to be sent back here there’s no further charge. Still, only the richest can afford it for their beloveds. Which reminds me. It seems that your lover has made the newspapers. Apparently he made some sort of major move on Conoco just before they went under after that securities scandal. I understand he made close to half a billion dollars. Did you know you’re dating a billionaire?”

“Arf, arf,” I replied. Brandon is a billionaire now? Wow!

“Anyway, let’s get started. Luigi was kind enough to send me a lovely bustier that should fit quite nicely on you. I like the detail he puts into the leather, don’t you?”

“Arf!”

The corset was tight and had two piece leather cups. The cups did cover my breasts to an inch above the nipples. The lower half of the cups lifted my breasts while the upper half formed them. It was nice to have my breasts finally supported. I hated walking around with them hanging down.

“You have nice tits but they could be a little bigger. You should ask Brandon. I’m sure he’d approve of such an upgrade. But I wouldn’t move up too much. Maybe one cup size. You look like you’re a 32-C. I bet you’ll look nice with 34 D breasts. You’d fill out just enough without looking top heavy. Would you like bigger tits?”

“Arf,” I barked in agreement.

“Hopefully we can set something up. I know a few doctors. I’ll be sure to recommend the best to Brandon when we see him next week. Now, let’s talk about your enthusiasm. Personally, I’m just a little concerned. You know Hon, something just didn’t seem right when you spotted me. Now, if I walked into someone’s house and their puppy saw me for the first time, what do you think it would do when it saw me?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea.

“Ahhhh,” I screamed as the dildo when off at full blast. She didn’t let go of the button. I was writhing on the floor.

“Maybe I should leave you like that. Are you that stupid? You should be begging for attention.”

“Ahhh,” I continued to scream. I put my paws on my crotch trying to stop the pain. It just continued.

“I won’t stand for a show of apathy from you. From this point forward, act the part or feel it in your pussy. Now, get over here and show me your enthusiasm. Move it!”

I got up on my knees and quickly crawled over to her. I began licking her boots and rubbing my cheek against her leg. “Better. Now, you can do me one more favor.” She lifted her skirt and I performed my most hated task. “You’d better get that tongue moving a lot faster bitch. Or do you want another dose?”

My pace quickened from the fear she had instilled in me. I did as I was told. I moved from nether lips to clit and even stuck my tongue deep insider her. I would do anything to avoid this scene. Why did Brandon want me to do this?

“That’s enough. Sit!” she ordered.

She had a muzzle sitting on the table. “If you’re not using your mouth we’re going to keep you muzzled from now on. It won’t interfere with your breathing but it will keep you quiet.”

The leather square fit over my face. In its center was a soft rubber ball. It went in my mouth. The ball was very soft, almost like a Nerf ball. It was a full two inches in diameter and it filled my mouth completely.

“Just because you’re muzzled doesn’t mean you don’t have to bark for me. Understand?”

“Arf!” I said. The muzzle muffled my voice severely but it was still loud enough for her to hear me.

“Good. You just lay around the house and I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t try and turn on the TV or use any other gadgets. You’re a dog. Don’t act human! And don’t climb on the furniture. Walk around and get a good look at the place. I’ll be back in an hour. I have to get the rest of your toys so you can learn your role properly.”

I decided to kill time and wander through the cottage. There was nothing of note in the building. My cage was in the bedroom, I noticed. That was pretty much the extent of any noteworthy items in the building.

The entire house was carpeted, with the exception of the kitchen and the dining room. The place looked like it was designed for entertainment. The dining room was large and the table was long and narrow. Along one wall was a second table. I’d almost bet that it was used for buffets.

I crawled back to the living room and looked around. There was a pile of pillows in the corner and I got the feeling that they were put there intentionally for me. Since I had hardly had the opportunity to sleep on anything other than the thin mattress inside my cage, I decided to take advantage of them.

While I was laying quietly on the pillows I stewed. After wearing this outfit for a week I was beginning to get pissed off about it. I really didn’t like being demeaned and humiliated this way. Everything about my outfit annoyed me. These damn gloves prevented me from grabbing anything. The boots were annoying too. I couldn’t stand up even though I had normal heels and soles on my feet. The heels were six inch stilettos. But the electronics in my calves could detect when I stood up. If that happened I wouldn’t be standing for long. That damn dildo in my crotch would shock me.

I still didn’t understand how they could shock someone so many times and not cause damage. But they insisted that this thing would do just that. I figured that with all the shocks I had received that it must be true because I had absolutely no irritation inside me. Then it hit me. I had worn this dildo for a month and I hadn’t had a period. Could it be that I was pregnant? No, I always took my pills when I was with Brandon and nobody had used me that way since I arrived. They must have given me something in my food to stop my periods. Then again, if I was pregnant, I’d be home in a week and Brandon and I could deal with it then. It was one more thing to worry about in all this mess.

When I set my head down on the pillows my view narrowed on the front door. I could easily see it. There was something I know I needed to do but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It had something to do with the door. So I began to retrace my steps.

I reviewed everything that happened this morning. Carl had brought me to Stephanie. Stephanie punished me for a lack of enthusiasm. Well, I’d have to improve in that regard I figured. Stephanie made me lick her. Yuck! Stephanie punished me for not greeting her with enthusiasm. I couldn’t put my finger on what I was supposed to do. I was tired. So I set my head on the pillow and relaxed.

I could hear someone walking up to the front door. My eyes grew wide as it finally hit me. Stephanie punished for not greeting her earlier! I climbed up on all fours and rushed over to the door where I took up a sitting position right in front of the door. When the inner door opened I started barking and wiggling my ass so my tail would wag.

I got up and pressed my cheek against her boot then crawled behind her ready to heel at her side. “Good girl,” she praised as if I were really her pet. “Look what I got. I got your stick and your bone and even your rubber ball. We’re gonna teach you the proper way to play fetch. But first I want to work on your posture. Sit, Honey.”

I sat on my heels and waited for more training. This was usually painful so I prepared myself for more punishment. The trainers always seemed to punctuate their commands with a jolt so I’d remember the lesson.

“Press your heels together when you kneel. Keep your knees about a foot apart. And point your toes.” She pressed the button but I only felt a vibration. Thank God!

“I know that the boots prevent you from pointing your toes fully but do the best you can. I want to see your heels pointing upward as far as possible so they are more easily visible. Try and feel the ground with the tops of your toes.”

I stretched a little more and felt the ground with my toenails.

“Very good, Honey. Now, your next thing to work on is your hands. Make sure your hands are just inside of your knees.” She praised me when I did so. “That’s perfect.”

“Stay,” she said walking away from me a short distance. “When I give you the command I want you to walk towards me. The only difference is that I want you to put your hands in front of each other. Come,” she ordered.

I walked towards her and put one hand in front of the other. Doing so caused my body to sway, which moved my hips and consequently my tail. I suppose that was the effect she was seeking. “If you have to move fast, you won’t be able to use that method. But for normal heeling you will be using it all the time, understand?”

“Arf!” I barked.

“Good. Let’s go out and play a little.”

“Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm,” Ellie suddenly whined in her high pitched voice.

“I’d better take care of a few mundane tasks,” Stephanie said.

“Huh?” I asked.

“She has to go. Where is the cleaning station?”

“I’ll show you.”

We walked back into the house and came to a door at the back of the corridor. The room contained all the gags, harnesses, collars, and other bondage gear that we had purchased from Luigi’s. Most of her leather outfits and boots were here as well. “This is her playroom. The cleaning room is behind that door.”

“I’ll only be a minute.”

“Bring her to the office when you’re done. She smells a bit ripe. Can you give her a wipe?”

“Sure, Hon. But I did wash her down before we left. Must have picked up an odor in the box.”

“I have to answer some emails. Bring her when she’s cleaned up.”

I read my email, deleting countless spam messages. An email from a friend in San Diego caught my eye. “I got that cruise for you. Executive Suite, of course,” it said. “Do you still want it?”

I replied, “Yes.” Then I added a special request. “Can you arrange it?”

“Consider it done,” she replied. “I’ll take care of it.”

The ship would depart on Monday. After being kept in the scene for so long, a vacation would be a nice respite. It would be perfect.

Ellie trotted in on all fours as she had been taught. Her hands moved one in front of the other. It was a style that Stephanie had developed. It made her look seductive, even though she was on her knees.

Ellie had obviously been freshened up. Her hair was combed and she now smelled of sweet perfume. “Much better,” I said.

She was led to my side and forced to sit beside my chair while I continued to answer email. “Do you need me?” Stephanie asked as she handed me the leash.

“No. I know you need to bring in your stuff. Use the bedroom across the hall. That’s the guest bedroom.”

I was going to be Vice President of the Western division? I could hardly believe it. I was familiar with their operation. Their team was amazing. I just hoped I could live up to their expectations.

Right now my role was being a dog and that’s what I had to concentrate on.  I had spent a month away from Brandon and now, as near as I was to him, I couldn’t do anything but sit like a pet next to his chair. I wanted companionship on a different level than what I was getting. But there was a sense of companionship here. That companionship inspired me to think of Brandon’s desires.

While I sat here quietly by his side I had a chance to think. I had realized that I had been wallowing in my own suffering. I hated being a dog with a passion. But Brandon loved to see me like this. I could tell by the look in his eyes. When he saw me bark and trot he smiled at me. He truly loved me in this role.

And that’s when it hit me. He wanted me to think of his pleasure before my own. Before I had been in this role I had done so but within limits. Brandon wanted me to remove those limits and do what he wanted, regardless of how I felt. He wanted me to trust him. And now I did.

But I was still a dog and I still hated it. I knew I had to fight that feeling. If I didn’t, I knew that one day we’d leave each other. I couldn’t imagine being his slave and hating the role I was playing. That would never work. It was up to me to adjust my attitude.

“Ruff, Ruff,” I barked in a muffled tone. I wanted him to play with me so I barked in that mode that Stephanie said would indicate that I was getting bored.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Rrrrruff,” I barked once more.

“You’re horny, aren’t you?”

“Arf!” I barked, hoping that he would do something to satisfy my lust.

“Let me turn on your vibrator,” he said. Suddenly I felt a buzzing between my legs. It drove me crazy. In all the time I had been in the academy they had only used it three times. Each time I went nuts with passion. I was about to groan when I realized that my collar was active. Instead I used dog-speak and whined in a joyful tone. “I see you’re enjoying yourself. Good,” he said as he petted my head.

He let me stew until Stephanie returned. “All done?” he asked her.

“All done. How about you. Finished with your email?”

“Just checking one last item. You did a magnificent job with Ellie. She acts just like she’s supposed to. She’s an excellent pet. I’m really surprised that she’s showing this much enthusiasm.”

“We worked the entire week on that. I wanted to be sure to have her show a happy face. Speaking of which, are you done with her mouth? I like to keep my dogs muzzled at all times.”

“Well, I didn’t use her mouth but if you want to muzzle her, that’s fine. I’m not in the mood for that right now.”

“Suit yourself. Do you mind if I use her?”

“Feel free.”

Stephanie sat on the couch and called me. She lifted her skirt and told me to lick her. I had done this enough to know to attack her pussy with reckless abandon. She had her own remote and I knew she would use it if I didn’t please her. I licked her nether lips first, working my way up to her clit. I could feel the ring that she had implanted there. I also felt the grommets in her lips. She must have been a slave at one time or another. I heard her groan and I doubled my efforts to lick her. When she grabbed my head and pulled me into her I pressed my tongue deep inside her canal. She screamed for joy and panted like she was in heat. Finally she pushed me away.

After a short rest she walked over to her handbag and pulled out a muzzle. This one had a rubber cock inside. I had worn this once before and didn’t like it at all. “Open,” she ordered. I really didn’t have much choice. The cock when in my mouth and she pulled the straps behind my head.

“I fed her when I was cleaning her up so she can wear that until morning. Then again, if you want to use her mouth, you’re welcome to take it off. Just remember to replace it when you’re done. I don’t like to have a dog’s mouth empty. Call me just before you go to bed. I’ll give her a cleaning and send her to the cage.”

I slept alone for another night, staying loyal and devoted to Ellie. My guilt at having her go through this torment had long since faded to a dull ache. I knew it was good for her but it hurt to know what she was enduring for me. I did not sleep well that night, knowing that she was staying in the room across the hall in a cage.

The following day Stephanie was already awake when I got up at six. Ellie was out of her cage, muzzled, and staying at Stephanie’s side. She was wearing the same red leather outfit.

“I’m going to pick up Brenda. You can take care of her until I get back. I have to leave now or Brenda will be pissed.”

“You have time. Her plane doesn’t get in till ten and it only takes a half hour to get to the airport.”

“True. But I don’t want to be caught in traffic.”

“You have a point. Let me have her. Did you feed her?”

“No. I brought some cans of stew from the academy. I know she’s sick of the stuff but it’s good for her. It’s their own mix but you can substitute with Dinty Moore if you need to. Don’t forget to put her hair into a ponytail first. I just washed her and I don’t want to dig that junk out of her hair again.”

“I’d rather let her have some oatmeal or some cereal. Good fiber and vitamins.”

“Not something a dog would normally eat though, is it?”

“You’re too strict.”

“She’s your pet. Anyway, I can’t chat any more. Gotta go. Oh, almost forgot. Add a dose of Periostop. We don’t want her periods starting up yet.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I said as she opened the door to leave. Returning my attention to Ellie, I said, “I bet you’re hungry,”

“Arf!” she said in her muffled voice.

“Heel,” I ordered. I led her into the kitchen and took her dog bowl. “Let me take that muzzle off you and put your hair in a nice ponytail.”

I grabbed a rubber band from my junk drawer and fixed her hair. The muzzle came off and she was all to eager to have something other than beef stew. I knew she was probably bored of it, having been fed it three times a day for the last two weeks.

“I bet you’d love some pancakes, huh?”

“Arf!” she barked enthusiastically.

“One order, coming up. God, I wish I could take those boots and collar off. But I don’t have the codes. Just have to wait a couple more days. Then I’ll get you in my bed. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Arf!” she said again, this time wagging her tail. I just smiled.

Before I started making pancakes I made sure she got her dose of Periostop. This medicine halted periods while still allowing normal hormone production. Normally it was mixed into the stew. I gave it to her in pill form and allowed her to drink a glass of water. Stephanie would never have approved of holding the glass up to her but she wasn’t here. I really didn’t think we needed to be that strict with her so I made this concession.

I made up six pancakes, three for her and three for me. I broke them up into one inch pieces and squirted syrup on them. “Don’t eat this stuff too fast,” I said. I filled a separate bowl with water so she could rinse her face as she ate. “I have a feeling that your new trainer won’t allow you to eat outside the prescribed diet either so enjoy it while it lasts.”

I poured myself a glass of milk and prepared my three pancakes. I glanced over at Ellie while I savored the maple syrup. I bet she enjoyed it even more. “Don’t eat too fast,” I warned. But she practically inhaled them. So I made a couple more with the remaining batter. She seemed satisfied with the two extra flapjacks.

“Come over here and sit. I need to clean up your face. You have syrup all over yourself.” I took a wet rag and wiped her chin several times. She just smiled at me. “Rinse your mouth out in your water bowl. I have to put your muzzle back on before Stephanie comes back.” Ellie frowned. When I held the muzzle in front of her mouth she didn’t resist. She just opened her mouth and accepted the short cock.

I needed to clean up the evidence. I didn’t want Stephanie to see what I had fed Ellie. Not that I couldn’t overrule her. After all, Ellie was my property, not hers. I made the final decisions. But I didn’t want to get into an argument with her. She was like a screeching cat when she got mad. So I washed dishes, including bowls, the frying pan, and the floor around where the dog bowls were. Then I put a bowl of water down. “As far as you’re concerned, you just had cereal. Understood?”

“Arf!” she said.

Brenda was funny. She had that comical English accent that I just loved. But she was a stickler for details just as much as Stephanie was. But she was more likeable.

“This is Ellie,” Stephanie said.

“She’s absolutely adorable!,” Brenda said with a lilt in her voice. “How long has she been in this role?”

“Two weeks,” Brandon said as he petted my hair.

“How much longer are you planning on keeping her like this?”

“A couple more days. Then we’ll visit the role a couple times a week, I figure.”

“She’s going to have a job I understand.”

“A job? Oh, yes, you mean the VP position. Yes, she’s going to be working during the day. Is that a problem?”

“No, not really. I can put her back in the role as soon as she gets home if you’d like.”

“Well, let’s play that by ear. I like to have someone sitting across from the dinner table. Maybe after dinner would be better. That way we don’t have to worry about special diets and the like.”

“I see your point. Still, let’s not lose what we have.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t see why we can’t put her into a scene each day after dinner. We’ll do full day role playing on the weekends unless you have plans.”

“You’ll handle the details like the cleaning and such?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll make sure she’s ready for you whenever you need her. And if you’re too busy to attend to her, I’ll make sure she’s kept occupied.”

“You’re a charm. Stephanie said you’d like to be my maid as well.”

“I do enjoy dressing in French Maid outfits. I have three outfits with me.”

“Can you manage a crew of servants?”

“Certainly,” she said with a cute English lilt. “I have some connections. I can bring in trusted people from a number of places. I assume you want people from the scene.”

“Exclusively,” he said. “If we’re going to play these games we’d better get dependable people.”

“What sort of budget are we talking?”

“A hundred for you. Two hundred for the rest of the staff. Three servant girls and one gardener/ chauffer, I think.”

“I know just the people. Now, let me get a good look at your little doggie. Come here, Love.”

Brenda petted my head as I licked her face and wagged my tail by wiggling my ass. “Speak!” she said.

“Arf!” I barked.

“Let’s try it again after I pull off this muzzle.” The muzzle was removed. “Try again. Speak!”

“Arf!” I barked louder.

“Very nice. But I prefer a higher pitch. “Speak!” she commanded again.

“Arf” I barked in a higher pitched voice.

“Much better. You’ll use that tone from now on when commanded. Understood?”

“Arf!”

“Good girl.” Brenda switched her gaze to Brandon. “I need to get unpacked. Where do I put my stuff?”

“The servant’s wing is on the east side of the structure. Just go down that hall until you get to the end. You’ll find an office at the end of the hall. That’s your room. Your bedroom is accessible from within.”

“Thanks. Would you please muzzle her again. I assume you can keep her entertained for an hour or so. Stephanie, have a good trip. And if I haven’t thanked you for all you’ve taught me, I can honestly say that I’d have never gotten this far without your help.”

“Thank you, Hon,” she said with that little twang in her voice.

I was told to heel beside Brandon. I was beginning to like being next to him. Did I actually say that? We walked outside where he found a tall palm tree. It was the first palm tree I had ever seen. I looked up for coconuts but found that it wasn’t that type of palm tree. I just didn’t want to get hit on the head by one.

Brandon sat down on the grass and pulled me up to him. “Lay down on my lap,” he ordered.

I was muzzled so I couldn’t smile. I was happy that they had yet to activate the dildo in my mouth. I hated sucking on that damn thing. Stephanie kept that thing active all day when I was staying with her in that cottage. If I hated one thing more than any other it was sucking on that cock. I was so glad she was gone!.

The straps of the muzzle held down my hair so Brandon really couldn’t mess it up by petting me. I was sort of glad for that but still, I was muzzled. I wanted to kiss him so badly! My God! How frustrated I was that I couldn’t talk to him or show him how much I loved him. I know that he felt my devotion to him. But I just wanted to get out of this role and be a woman again. Instead, I just put my head on his lap and whined softly. Well, this part of it wasn’t that bad, I guess.

We sat there for fifteen minutes or so, the palm tree shading us from the hot sun. “I miss our swing,” he said. “But then again, the view from here is nice too.”

Again I was frustrated. I wanted to tell him I missed the swing too and the porch and the soft music. I wanted to smile at him and kiss him. But all I could do was keep my lips wrapped around this rubber cock. God how I hated this more and more!

“How’s she doing?” Brenda asked, catching both of us by surprise.

“I want her out of this,” Brandon said sternly.

“I suppose you have a good reason. You haven’t seen her for a month from what I understand.”

“I want her out of this outfit. I can’t stand it anymore.”

Brenda knelt beside us. “If that’s what you want, I’m fine with it. But let me test her with a little fetch game and we’ll have a go at putting her into a slave girl outfit.”

“No, I want to take her out to dinner. I want her in her leather pants and high heeled boots.”

“I can’t say I approve but you’re the boss. But do let me play a little fetch with her.”

“If you want. Honey, go with Brenda and play fetch with her. Then we can get you out of that outfit and into something a little more interesting. OK?”

“Arf!” I said excitedly. At last the ordeal was going to end.

We walked over to an open area nearby. She pulled a foot long stick out of her bag and held it in front of me. I was taught to show excitement and that’s exactly what I did. I can still remember that painful jolt that Stephanie gave me when we did this back at the academy. It was all because I didn’t bark and wag my tail at the stick. After that day I knew better. I jumped and barked and wiggled my butt. “Go get it!” Brenda said.

I ran as fast as I could on all fours, chasing down the stick and bringing it back proudly. But I had forgotten the trot and I got zapped. Brenda zapped me. “Hand over hand,” she yelled at me waving the stick again at me. The stick flew through the air and I was told to fetch. This time I trotted back proudly. “Good girl,” she said as she grabbed the stick and patted my head.

We continued the routine. Each time she wagged the stick at me I was supposed to get excited. And each time I returned it I was supposed to trot proudly. We repeated the routine at least five or six times before we went to the rubber ball, and finally the dildo.

“So, what do you think?” Brandon asked as he sat watching from under our palm tree.

“I can’t find any flaws. She shows a lot of enthusiasm although I think it’s PEC. I’d like to talk to her later and try and develop some heartfelt enthusiasm.”

“You’ll get plenty of chances. I think you’ll find her willingness shows better while in harness.”

Brenda went back to the stick and I went into my act again. The stick flew over my head.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” Brenda said. “So, you want her dressed how?”

I can safely say that this was the first time I was actually ecstatic about having someone in the bathroom with me beside Brandon. They were finally going to take me out of this role. Brenda removed my collar, but told me to remain silent. She was being exact and careful in her motions. I’m sure she had done this many times before. “You’ll remain a dog until your master releases you from your role. Clear?”

“Arf,” I said. I had the option to rebel and say “Yes.” But I barked. I watched Brandon smile. It made me feel so good.

She pulled the corset off next, tossing it to the side. She grabbed the remote and pressed some keys. “Your boots and dildo are disarmed. Sit on the toilet so I can remove them.”

“Arf!” I barked excitedly. I hadn’t been on my feet in two weeks. For the two steps it took to get to the toilet seat I teetered on the skyscraper heels. But I survived.

With the boots now removed Brenda did a foot and leg exam, paying careful attention to my toes and my knees. “Looks good. No bruising.”

She had me sit on the flusher and go through a cycle. While I was doing that, she washed her hands and put on some rubber gloves. “Make yourself useful love,” she said to Brandon. “Fetch me the five mil socket.”

First the dildo was removed. It had been buried inside me for a full two weeks solid. I almost missed its company as I watched her squeeze the sides and release the catch. She then started removing the nuts that trapped my nether lips between the inner and outer rings. The ring was removed and she used her fingers to carefully tease the catheter out of me.

“Turn over and let me get at your ass, Love.”

I rolled over and grabbed the top of the toilet tank while she pulled the gadget out of my ass. It felt so strange to have that done. But I was finally free of all the bondage. It felt very good indeed.

“Come here, Ellie,” Brandon beckoned.

I walked over to him. He grabbed me and kissed me. “Your dog role ends with a kiss. It begins with a blow job,” Brenda informed me as I luxuriated in Brandon’s deep, wonderful kiss. I was really free!

When I stepped away I looked at him. “Why?” I asked.

Brandon just smiled at me. “Why did you make me go to that horrible place?”

“Many reasons,” he said confidently.

“I don’t understand. Why did you make me do those things?”

“You needed to be tested and trained. Do you still love me?”

“Yes, but…”

“No ‘buts’,” he said cutting me off.  “The only thing that matters is that you still love me.”

“Do you know what I went through? I hated being treated like that.”

“I know. But you did it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever ask to quit?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You told me just now. You love me. That tells me something.”

“What?”

“I know now that you’ll endure anything to prove that you love me.”

I looked at him. “Is that what you wanted to know, that I’d act like a dog for you?”

“In part; I wanted you to learn what a true submissive was.”

I grabbed him in my arms. My lips found his. “I missed you so much!” I said, trying to change the topic and put the memory of the last month out of my memory.

“Ditto,” he said.

“Let Brenda and me do the thinking,” he said. “We’ll take you down the correct path. You’ll enjoy it eventually. The first few weeks are always disorienting. But things will get better. You’ll have to trust me.”

“I do trust you. But I’m still a little frightened by all this stuff.”

“I know.” He leaned over and kissed me. “You’ll be fine. Ah, here’s our food,” he suddenly said.

Phase XI: The Ultimate Attitude

“You’ll need to go shopping while we’re out. I don’t think you have anything suitable for a cruise,” he told me as we sat in the back of the new limo. Brenda was acting as chauffer.

“Cruise?” I asked.

“Yes, we’re leaving on Monday.”

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“I’m taking you to Tahiti,” he told me. “You need to get some clothes that are appropriate for the climate.”

“We only have five days! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“You were in scene. I couldn’t tell you.”

“Oh,” I said, actually understanding that he didn’t want to communicate worldly matters to me while I was in the role of a dog. “Is that why we’re going to dinner so early?”

“Yes. And by the way, you look fabulous.”

I smiled at him. It was he who had suggested I wore leather pants and a white silk halter. On my feet I wore five inch stilettos just as I had done when we first started this adventure. I actually could walk in them without so much as the slightest bobble. In fact, I knew that if he had told me to wear my six inch spikes I’d have had no problem with them either.

Our destination was a high priced strip of clothing stores that were often frequented by the elite. This was San Diego’s version of Rodeo Drive, a swank collection of stores with overpriced designer outfits.

I purchased a number of items including five bikinis, three hats, two evening gowns, and a number of accessories. Brenda helped me pick out some things. It was so much fun to go shopping again! Of course, Brandon paid for everything.

“Don’t forget to get some casual clothes for the trip. You won’t be able to wear your kinky outfits,” he told me as we left the swank store dedicated to dresses and accessories.

“Yea, I hadn’t thought of that. How long are we going to be away?” I asked.

“Two weeks,” he told me.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to spend more of your money,” I said with a smile.

“You go right ahead!”

Brandon:

“So, what are you in the mood for?” I asked as Ellie snuggled up against me.

“I’m not sure I should answer that,” she joked.

“That comes later. I’m talking about the menu. What do you want to eat?”

“Well, I sure could go for a nice big steak,” she said.

“That sounds like a great idea.” I touched the intercom and spoke to Brenda. “Look up Pedro’s Steakhouse on the GPS. I think it’s up ahead about three miles on the left. By the way, you wouldn’t happen to be hungry, would you?”

“As a matter of fact, Love.”

“You wouldn’t mind if Brenda joins us, would you?”

“No. I don’t mind.”

“Brenda, you’re not a vegan, are you?”

“Not a chance. Have you some beef in mind?”

“As a matter of fact…”

Ellie:

They gave us a table in the back corner so we could have some privacy. The restaurant was dark and quite elegant for a steakhouse. Brandon slipped the waiter a twenty and we were assured of our privacy. The waiter took our orders. Brandon and I had beer. Brenda drank Coke because she was driving. I thought that was smart of her.

“Do I really have to get back into that act?” I asked.

“Do you have a problem with it?”

I looked at him with a funny stare.

“Honey,” Brenda said, “Part of your training is to accept whatever your owner asks of you.”

“I know that,” I said with a frustrated tone.

“Slaves look forward to being as submissive as possible. The dog and pony scenes are the most extreme. They give you the chance to submit to a deeper level. You shouldn’t be asking if he wants you to go back into those roles. It’s almost an insult to ask him. Hell, you should be looking forward to getting back into an animal scene.”

“Looking forward to it? I hated being a dog,” I said.

“Did you? You seemed to enjoy walking at my side and lying down on my lap. Or was that an act?”

“It wasn’t an act. OK, I’ll admit it. When I was with you I didn’t mind the dog show. And I was sort of looking forward to the pony act too. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just so new. I don’t know what to think.”

The back corner was quiet and the three of us enjoyed a wonderful meal. I had a rack of ribs. Ellie had a New York Strip smothered in mushrooms, and Brenda had a crab imperial that was beyond description.

The table was isolated and except for the occasional visit from the waitress we had a certain amount of privacy. This allowed us to discuss things that were better not aired in public.

“Is Brenda coming along on our trip? Ellie asked.

“No, I only set it up for us. Brenda will be house watching.”

“Oh, I guess that’s smart,” she said.

“She’s getting together a team for maintaining the property. Stephanie said she was a fantastic organizer. I’m making her my chief of staff. Admittedly I really don’t know her but I trust Stephanie completely. She said that Brenda’s trustworthy and above reproach. So I told her to hire a staff.”

“What if they see our stuff?” Ellie asked.

“I’m only hiring people who are into this stuff,” Brenda offered. “You won’t have any problems with them. I already have some people in mind.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Tell me about what you went through,” I said.

“No,” she said.

“Did it bother you that much?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. She looked deep into my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She looked at me and smiled. “Don’t be. I know what you were trying to do. It’s OK. I still love you.”

Brenda smiled and shook her head. “She’s quite a find,” she said to me.

“I think so!”

“So, what exactly did you learn at the Academy; I mean besides the obvious stuff like technique and such?” Brenda asked.

Ellie looked at her. “I don’t know,” she said.

“You don’t know?” Brenda asked.

“I don’t understand the question. If you’re wondering if I learned to enjoy that stuff, well, I can’t say that I did. I don’t know what you want.”

“While you were there I’m sure you hated your very existence. But now that you look back can you think of anything you felt good about?”

“No. Well, not while I was there. I suppose I liked it when Brandon made me crawl beside him. And I liked laying on his lap.”

“So you like being a dog if you can be beside your owner?”

“Ah, I guess so. And I liked pulling him in a cart. They taught us some different prancing steps while we were ponies there. I sort of liked the outfits. I liked the design of the boots but I didn’t like the knee gadgets.”

“Did you keep your boots on all the time?”

“We were only allowed to take them off when we were asleep. We had to get them on before morning inspection.”

“Maybe we can do some pony stuff tonight or tomorrow,” I suggested.

“Yes, I’d like to see her march. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, that’s fine,” Ellie said. “I’ve actually been looking forward to it.”

“Great!”

We all dug into our meals. Ellie looked like she had an orgasm when she bit into the first piece of her steak. “I never believed that steak could taste so good! After eating that dog food for two weeks, this is pure heaven.”

“You never know how much you miss the simple things in life until they’re denied you,” Brenda noted.

“That’s it! That’s what I learned. I just couldn’t put a finger on it. Everything I couldn’t have I learned to appreciate. Food, friends…” she looked at me and said with a smile, “Brandon.”

I took her hand and smiled. “Now you really do understand why I sent you there.”

Ellie:

We got home around eight that night and I was tired. “Are you sure you want to do the ponygirl stuff tonight?” he asked me.

“Sure,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

“Get Brenda. She’ll help you get into your gear.”

I dressed in my spandex catsuit. Brenda was acting the part, now dressed in red leather pants, Black heeled boots, and a red halter top that she adorned with a black leather vest. She also wore a black collar and a belt. The belt held a riding crop and a remote control.

When I saw the remote I immediately wondered if she was going to put the gadget back inside my crotch. She didn’t use the same device. She had a different dildo. This had a wide flange around the butt end that had pins located on it. The grommets that were mounted to my lips were placed over them and a pair of half moon shaped covers were snapped onto the flanges.

“Does this work the same way?” I asked.

“Exactly,” she said. “The only difference is that you can take this out and install it yourself. You don’t need a key or any tools.”

I looked at her for a second. “When do I have to wear it?”

“All the time, of course. You can certainly remove it for sanitary reasons and when you have your period.”

“I thought that drug stopped that.”

“It does. But you need to go off it once every three months. You can stay on it for another ten weeks. Then you have to stay off it until you’ve had a period. Then you can go back on it for another three months.”

“So I have to be careful with Brandon during that time.”

“That’s right. But you should be using protection anyway, right?”

“Sure,” I said. “Can we get the rest of this gear on?”

The outfit was the exact same one I had worn before going to the academy. It consisted of a red body suit, a black leather corset, and the tall pony boots. These boots had the knee attachments installed though which enforced the high-step form that ponygirls had to maintain.

My legs seemed to know the process by themsleves. As soon as my legs were encased in the leather tubes, my knees seemed to rise on their own. It was as if they had been programmed by the week of training that I had gone through.

“Do you want to wear the reverse prayer or the straight arm binder?” Brenda asked.

“I’m more comfortable in the reverse prayer binder.”

“Really? Most girls can’t handle that style.”

“I must have some quirk in my muscles that make my arms lay that way.”

“I suppose. Well, let’s get it on you. Then I can get the hood and the bit on you. I want to see how you do myself.”

It had been several weeks since I had last placed the arm binder on. I had to remember the little tricks, the way to relax the correct muscles, in order to get my hands in position. Brenda was impressed by the look. “I’ve done a lot of ponys and I’ve never seen anyone go into that position so easily. I’m really impressed!”

I just smiled.

The leather hood slid down over my head. Brenda arranged my ponytail so that it stuck out of the hole in the top. When the laces were tightened it felt like a second skin. “Open,” she said as she inserted the bit and tightened the straps of the bridle. The bridle featured blinders, which blocked my view to either side. Finally she wrapped a stiff leather collar around my neck and attached a leash. “It’s time to go,” she said.

The gadget between my legs buzzed once before I realized that I had to lift my knees higher. Brenda apparently had the remote tuned to my boots too. She told me that the remote buzzed any time my dildo did so she could tell if I was doing anything wrong. My stride was a perfect two feet long, having marched countless laps when I was at the academy.

The sound of my hooves preceeded my entrance into the back room where Brandon was waiting. “I missed this,” he said. He smiled and stared at my bound form.”It’s been a while since we put your arms up. Do they feel OK?” he asked.

“Nee hee hee hee,” I said as I nodded.

“Then let’s get you rigged up.”

We started walking, Brenda leading and Brandon following behind. I hadn’t taken two steps towards the door when Brandon stopped us. “Did you forget something?” Brandon said as he stepped behind me.

Brenda smiled. “Oh my God!” she said. “How did I forget that?”

Brenda handed my leash to Brandon and disappeared down the hallway. A second later she had returned with my tail. “Bend over,” she commanded.

Brandon grabbed my torso and Brenda firmly pushed the plug inside me. I felt her turn something which expanded the tip. When I straighened the tail arched proudly behind my back. I could feel it brush my boots. “That’s a lot better. Let’s go for that ride,” Brandon said.

We walked out the door where I saw the back yard for the first time. We had a pool, and a big one at that!. Brenda took me past it as I continued to lift my knees with each step. Just past the pool was a short path that led to a small barn. Beyond the barn was a paved concrete path that was decorated with palm trees and flower beds all along its length. It was beautiful.

Brandon led me into the barn and hooked me up to a carriage that featured a hooded passenger area. It looked relatively light. I saw Brandon check the rear of the carriage and I noted the gas can nearby. “It’s full,” he said. “Go ahead and rig her up.”

“We shouldn’t be out too long,” Brenda whispered. “I won’t let him work you for more than a couple laps. Concentrate on your form. I know you’re anticipating a good fucking. If you screw up you’ll end up in the dog cage instead. So be a good pony if you don’t want your little man over there to go to bed alone. Got it?”

“Nee hee hee hee,” I whinnied.

“Good.”

Brenda ran reins from my bit to the cart and hopped in. I heard the motor start and within a second or two I was signalled to march with a light tap of the whip. I started lifting my knees and moving forward. The self-propelled cart followed along as I trotted outside. I was actually having fun!

Brandon:

“So, where did you find her?” Brenda asked as she pulled gently on the right rein, guiding Ellie around a curve.

“I didn’t. She came to me!”

“Really! And she knew what you were into?”

“No. She didn’t know a thing.”

“So how did this all start?”

“She got the idea all by herself. She came to me one day and said she wanted to be my slave. I mean, it surprised the heck out of me. I never saw nothing like it before. She had no experience at all in bondage.”

“She must have had some training.”

“None that I could detect. I can tell when someone is lying to me. She had no experience in any bondage or sex games. I took her when she was a virgin.”

Brenda had to concentrate for a moment as she guided Ellie through a tricky section of the path. It was comprised of a series of forks which all essentially led to the same spot. They were hard to see because the light was fading. I turned on the headlamps that were mounted on either side of the carriage. Ellie trotted through the maze.

“You’re a very lucky man,” she told me.

“I think so.”

“So, what are your plans for her? Do you intend to keep her in these roles?”

“Yes, assuming she can manage. That’s what I hired you for. I want you to develop her desire. It’s your job to find a way to make her find enjoyment in all of these roles.”

“I can do that. How much longer are you going to let her work? At some point she needs to devote herself completely.”

“I’ll let her decide. I’m sure she’ll find that being a slave is more fun than being a CFO at some point. It might take a year or two before she comes to that realization. But sooner or later, she’ll come around.”

“I don’t know if I necessarily agree, but she’s your slave. A master should dictate the training. A slave’s role is to obey. But, I’ll follow your lead.”

“Good. You mind if I take the reins for a while?”

“Not at all. Have a ball,” she said as she sat back and enjoyed the ride.

I missed this so much. Guiding Ellie by her reins was something I had dreamed of for a whole month. While I knew that the quarter million dollars for her training was well spent and the time away was sure to pay off, I simply missed her more than words could describe.

I watched her long blonde tail swish back and forth as her knees rose perfectly with each step. I could hear the clip clop sound, evenly paced and never altering. I could see the back of her head, the leather straps surrounding the red hood while a single blonde ponytail emerged from the opening at the top of her hood. And I could feel the resistence of her bit against the reins.

We did a second lap. Ellie looked very winded when we were only a quarter of the way through the path. I thought the training would have improved her stamina more. But then again, I realized that it had been three weeks since she had been in harness. Slave and pet training didn’t improve stamina, although the pet training did help a little, especially when she was used for fetching things.

“I want to supervise her oral sex skills,” Brenda offered.

“She knows how to suck cock,” I said. “I can judge whether she’s up to snuff.”

“You won’t punish her if she doesn’t do it properly. I will.”

“I suppose you have a point,” I relented. “Let me park her and then give  her a good fuck. Then we’ll take her into the bedroom and see what she can do.”

Ellie:

“Ugh, ugh, ugh,” I screamed into my bit as Brandon took me from behind.I was still in my pony gear as Brandon removed my dildo and inserted his own shaft into me. Brenda held my reins in such a way that my back was horizontal. She intentionally put her hand under my right breast and cupped it to add support. Having a woman cop a feel would have been somewhat traumatic but I was preoccupied. Brandon kept pumping and I kept grunting through the entire joyful ordeal. It was the best I had ever been given. My God how I loved this man!

“Clean her up and bring her in on a leash. You know the drill,” Brandon ordered. “Oh, and I want you in your maid’s outfit starting tomorrow. I’m not impressed with jeans and t-shirts. OK?”

“Yes, Sir,” Brenda said, responding to the dominant tone that Brandon had displayed. “I should have changed when we got home. I got distracted.”

“It’s OK. I just want things to be proper.”

“I understand. Come along, Ellie.”

I was covered in sweat. Brenda led me into my private bondage room where she stripped me of my gear. Everything was removed so that I could shower. “It was a lot hotter out there than I’m used to in October,” she said.

“I’m not used to California weather either.”

“Take a shower. Brandon wants some oral service next. I want to see how well you do.”

I didn’t protest. I wanted to but I kept my mouth shut. I liked Brenda. She was firm but considerate. She took good care of me and didn’t push me too hard. My butt didn’t even get hit more than once or twice. Then again, I didn’t know who used the whip on me because I couldn’t see behind me. It very well might have been Brandon who used it. I guess it didn’t really matter. I probably deserved it.

When I came out of the shower Brenda made me put the dildo back inside my crotch. “Dog mode, Dear,” she said, pointing to the ground and holding a collar and leash. I immediately dropped to my hands and knees, waiting for her to collar me. When she had me on her leash she told me to heel on her right. “I’m going to use this tiny riding crop on you to move you along. Don’t be afraid of it. Just do as you’re told. OK?”

I was so well trained that I barked even though I knew the collar wasn’t the electronic version. “Arf!” I replied, falling into the role.

She gave me gentle taps on the ass as we walked through the house. I still hadn’t had the opportunity to check out all the rooms. I was familiar with several of them including the section reserved for the servants. I’d never been in a house that was this big. It was really disorienting.

We found Brandon in the bedroom. He had changed into his robe and was apparently naked underneath. Well, I knew what was coming. Brenda tapped my butt to prod me over to my lover. I so wanted to please him. I hadn’t slept with him in a month and I was horny as a goat. If it was going to take an act of debauchery, so be it.

“Speak!” Brandon ordered.

“Arf!” I replied.

“We’re going to see what you’ve retained from the academy. Are you ready?” Brenda asked.

“Arf!”

“You may begin,” Brandon said in a sweet tone.

I placed my face up against his crotch and extended my tongue. His cock was rock hard. I worked from his balls to his cock, licking the member slowly, just as I had been taught. I tried to anticipate his orgasm, wrapping my lips around his member just before he released. I finished off the act by allowing his cock to go down my throat. I could feel him let go at the very moment I had swallowed him. And then I looked up at him.

“What do you think?” Brandon asked.

“She needs to maintain eye contact better. I like her style though. It’s not bad at all. What did you think?”

“I thought her enthusiasm was a little flat.”

“Yea, it could be better. It’s certainly not up to the level Stephanie said she displayed at the academy. Maybe we need to keep her in the role a little more.

“I’d rather not. But if you think it’s best, I’ll back you up.”

“I looked up at him, my mouth still full of his cock. How could he keep me as a dog when he knew I wanted to make love to him?” I thought.

“You’re going to spoil her,” Brenda warned.

“I know,” he said as he looked down at me.

“You look so cute with that thing in your mouth,” Brenda said. “You need to remember as soon as you put it in, you need to look up. You also need to improve your attitude.”

I turned my eyes toward her. “Pay attention to your master,” she said angrily when I did that. I felt a shock between my legs and almost bit into Brandon.

“I think she needs a muzzle. Give me half an hour and we’ll try again,” Brandon said suddenly.

I thought I had pleased him and I did my best. Just one little quirk in my method and he wouldn’t let me go to bed with him. If I failed again would he refuse my attention? Would he put me in the cage? I tried to remember every aspect of my bondage. I forced myself to relive every sordid detail, trying to make sure I would get everything right.

Brenda found my muzzle and put it on me. Then she made me crawl into the cage where I laid down until Brandon was recharged. I wasn’t going to screw up the next time!

And I didn’t. As soon as Brenda removed my muzzle I didn’t even wait to be told. I jumped at Brandon and started lickiing him between the legs. “At a girl!” Brenda said. “That’s the way to show you love your owner!”

And so ended the day. Brandon and I could finally have some privacy in our own bedroom. I locked the door and stripped naked, with the exception of a pair of five inch heels. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,” I said.

“Ditto!” Brandon replied, imitating my favorite scene in that old movie, “Ghost.”

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I couldn’t agree more. I actually felt physical pain from being separated from Brandon. The only thing that kept me going was the distraction of the bondage and the discipline. But all those times when nothing was happening to me, I just hurt. I truly missed this guy.

We kissed a lot on that night and he made love to me in the old, gentle way he always had. He knew how to make me enjoy his attention. Every single act, every touch, every movement of his hand was gentle, slow and deliberate. He ran his fingers along my brow, pushing back my hair as he kissed me.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice breaking. I could see tears welling in his eyes. “I’m so sorry I sent you there.”

I stared at him for a moment and saw his guilt. But there was something inside me that said that he shouldn’t feel that way. “It’s OK,” I said. “You were right to send me to the academy.”

He looked at me. “No, I could have managed with less. I can manage with less. You don’t have to go on with these roles if you don’t want to.”

I rolled on top of him and stared into his eyes. Then I kissed him. “You’re my owner. I’m your slave. I don’t want you to ever think that I’d ever refuse you. I never want you to talk in those terms again. I will not see you do with less because you think I can’t handle it. I love you,” I said, almost angry now. “If I learned one thing over the past month it’s that there is no sex or bondage act that I can’t manage. As long as the end result is a smile on your face, well, that’s all that matters to me. OK?” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

“OK,” he said. “I never knew you were so tough!”

“Neither did I.”

Phase XII: Epilogue

Brandon:

Ellie surprised me when she read me the riot act last night. I never expected her to insist that I go full tilt with her training. On one hand that was wonderful. But I worried that she’d rebel at some point. That might put a strain on our relationship.

Then there was the matter of our cruise. There was little time to prepare for our trip. Ellie insisted we lay all our clothes out and make sure we had sufficient apparel for all occasions. She washed every article of clothing, sorting them out carefully and insisting that we test fit all new clothes. She ‘forced’ me to inspect her four bikinis, making sure they fit properly after washing. She looked magnificent!

Ellie had to spend much of each day in her “Story of O” costume. Brenda insisted on it more than me. The outfit consisted of a wide leather belt that had leather hoops that could be strapped to the skirt to hold it out of the way. I often had her walk around with her ass exposed. Her breasts were wrapped in a leather harness that criss-crossed and supported her moderately sized mounds. Over her breasts she wore a see-through black blouse.

I insisted that Ellie continue to be moved from role to role. If she cleaned house she had to do so in the “Story of O” costume that Brenda insisted on. If she was to perform oral sex on either of us, we insisted she drop to her knees and act like a dog. And finally we insisted she take on the role of the ponygirl each evening before we retired.

She seemed to enjoy Brenda’s company almost as much as mine. She began to hang out with her. I thought that was a good idea. A woman needs a girl friend to talk to. And I had taken away so many of hers with the move. Being stuck in this isolated part of the valley didn’t help much either.

The day of the trip finally arrived. Brenda dressed down for the occasion as did all of us. None of us had ever been to Tahiti and we were both looking forward to it. Ellie was simply uncontrollably overjoyed to go. She was all agitated, constantly talking with Brenda as we made our way to the dock.

I had some surprises in store for Ellie. The first one came not long after we entered our executive suite. “Leave the bags,” I said. “We’re meeting some people.”

“Who?” she asked.

I didn’t say anything. I just took her hand and led her across the hallway. I knocked. When the door opened, Ellie’s look was priceless! There stood Diane in all her glory. “Oh my God!” she screamed. “How?” Ellie asked.

Diane nodded her head at me and suddenly Ellie was all over me. “You arranged this?”

I nodded. “I thought you’d need a friend or two.”

“Friend or two? Who else is here?” Ellie asked.

“Why don’t you come in and see for yourself,” Diane said.

“Surprise!” they all yelled.

Jenna, Ruby, and several of my the old office crowd were gathered in Diane’s stateroom. Ellie was stunned. She immediately hugged every one of them. “How did you all get here?”

“It was all Brandon’s idea.”

“But why?” Ellie asked.

I walked up to Ellie at just the right moment and put my hand on her shoulder. She turned around smiling from ear to ear, too stunned to understand. “They’re here because I asked them to come. They’re here for a very special event.”

“What event?”

“A wedding.” Ellie’s eyes opened wide as I dropped to my knee, holding a five carat diamond ring.

The performing act that evening was none other than Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. Still performing after nearly twenty years in the business they were as good as ever. Faith was still a vision of loveliness and both could still belt out those awesome country tunes.

Six front row tables were occupied by myself and all her friends. Ellie was off stage with Diane, who happened to bring a custom made wedding gown for Ellie. She asked  how I got one on such short notice but I simply said I had a little Italian guy I knew that made dresses. Luigi didn’t even charge me for it!

Faith made the announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a special occasion. The Captain has informed me that there’s going to be a wedding this evening. And you’re all invited.”

A huge round of applause arose as the Captain escorted me to the stage. “As is customary, the captain of a sailing vessel has the distinct honor and privelege to perform a wedding ceremony while at sea. I’m pleased to present Mister Brandon Hacker, a fine gentleman I’ve known for many years. It is an honor and a privilege to perform this ceremony.”

As I stood, the captain nodded at the band member on the keyboard and the wedding march started. From behind the crowd, the main doors opened and Ellie walked gracefully past the crowd. She wore a white veil that surely hid the most gorgeous face I had ever laid eyes on.

She continued to march at a stately pace. I glanced to my right and noticed Faith moving her fingers up and down slowly, cueing her pace. Slowly she walked until the reached the stage. I took her arm and helped her mount the four steps until we were before the Captain.

I had to improvise. I didn’t know anyone onboard except the captain. The captain said he’d be happy to be my best man if I could find someone who’d act as minister. I wanted him to do the ceremony. So the captain told me that the Purser would surely help. After considering it, I thought it the perfect choice. After all, who could be better to look after the ring on a ship than the one knowing the combination to the safe?

It was Ellie’s idea to insert the word “Obey” into her vows. I said it would be fine if we used the modern variation. But she insisted that since her mother and father had been married using those words that she would take exactly the same vow. That was the story she offered the Captain. I knew the real reason, of course. And so she promised to love, honor, and obey me for the rest of her life.

The ceremony finished with the traditional wedding flourish, the band providing a magnificent performance. But Faith and Tim had a special gift for us. As we stood center stage they took their place to one side as the band began to play our favorite song:

I want to drink that shot of whiskey. I want to smoke that cigarette. I want to taste that sweet addiction on my breath.

I need you. Like a needle needs a vein. Like my Uncle Joe in Oklahoma needs the rain….

***

Ellie:

I can’t believe forty years have passed since that day. I still remember it like it happened yesterday. I still think about those years of kinky, wonderful role playing and all the amazing sensations Brandon brought to me. He really did know how to make me find a way to enjoy life.

We played those roles until one day we found ourselves wanting a family. I was approaching my thirty fifth birthday and Brandon broached the subject. He was sixty at the time and was concerned that he’d be too old to take care of or enjoy our child. So we stopped the birth control and nine months later our little girl, Olivia, was born. She was a joy. Twenty two years later her gift of twin boys blessed us like we could never have imagined.

Last Christmas Olivia had a lovely glider delivered to us. I had told her how Brandon and I used to sit on a porch swing back in North Carolina. I talked about it with a yearning in my voice. She understood perfectly. Before we knew it, we had this lovely bench that would swing ever so gently.

Last year Brandon’s mind started to fade. It nearly broke my heart when I found out. He is so intelligent. To see it slowly slip away just was more than I could bear. But I love him now more than I ever did.

We sit staring at the mountains on our back porch. He rests his head on my shoulder and I run my fingers through his hair. I think, “Forty years ago, our roles were nearly reversed.”

Today he’s happy. I can tell because he’s humming.

“I need you. Like a needle needs a vein….”

The End.