So This is My Dream?

Part One.   

By 781-524-112.

Continuing the story entitled ‘Dream Date With A Domme.’

1. Seeds.

It had been some time since i had made that fateful contact.

I had been alone in London. Well, not alone really, there were colleagues, friends from work but I was away from home, working though the week and travelling home every other weekend. There had been a lifestyle choice to be made. Not a particularly great job had come up but it was a job with potential nevertheless and they were fairly hard to come by in my field in my town.

The choices were simple. Stay at home and make do with a job I didn’t like and that had almost zero prospects or move to London and try and make a different career, before it was too late.

After much searching I finally found the job opportunity. I won’t bore you with the details but it was a bit strange. I would be working with a talented team all much younger than myself, basically providing direction and leadership while they supplied the flair and imagination.

It was a line into management. The very word always struck me as a euphemism for someone that watches others work while actually doing very little.  I would be a supervisor initially. Fine. Supervisor. Manager. Same shit different name. Different pay scale though too.

My immediate boss, sorry, line manager, Franklin, struck me as being typical of his breed. Out of touch, out of ideas and mostly out to lunch. BMW, his own parking space, an office with a door rather than a three sided ‘space’, coloured hair and an eye for the females in the office. They were not remotely interested. The girls in the office were the type with baggy jumpers, flat shoes and a propensity for facial piercings. Quirky but not the sort that would go for a Franklin-type.

Or as it turned out, my type. I’m pretty shy with strangers but eventually loosen up and can be quite amusing in the right mood. I had struggled to fit in though. They were suspicious of my age and my motives and, as I was from a quite different educational background, I got the impression they were a bit pompous. All arty-farty types from the south, I was a scientist from the north.

There was a major problem though. My wife. She was happy at home, had a job in a hospital that paid shit money and entailed long hours on weird shifts. But she loved it. She made a difference to the people there and was not for moving.

After much argument we agreed that I should try the job and see how it went before committing to such a big step. So I did a deal with Franklin and he agreed to pay my lodgings in a modest chain hotel and if, after six months I liked the job and they liked me, I would have to move or pay my own rent.

Commuting was actually easier than I expected. At first I travelled every weekend, but if this didn’t fit with Rachel’s shift pattern I wouldn’t go. No point having to potter about the house in silence while she was asleep after a night shift.

Basically her work was wrecking our potential time together. She, of course, saw it differently.

So one weekend I am in the hotel surfing the net, drinking wine and looking at filth on the web that probably would have got me arrested a few years ago when I stumbled across a ‘dating site’.

Most of it was the usual bunch of losers looking for cheap thrills. A warm body and no strings attached. Personally I would rather flirt with my five-fingered friend than engage in inane conversation on the off chance of an unfulfilling fuck. But that’s me. While I was looking though I realised there was a ‘fetish’ section which looked a little more intriguing. Too much wine and too much time on my hands and in a week or so I had enrolled and contacted a few ‘dominant women’. I had always had a thing about strong-willed ladies. They just turned me on.

There were a good few scammers and I had a scare or two until I got wise with my e-mail addresses, but eventually I plucked up the guts and met one.

She wanted to meet in a fancy restaurant in London, in the OXO tower on the south bank. Bit out of my price range, but I agreed.

I cocked up; I was supposed to call her when I was leaving so she wouldn’t be sitting alone. I had told her I was a project manager (bullshit), she wasn’t very impressed with my management skills when I couldn’t even get a meeting right. I had this idea she would be clad in leather pants, killer heels and breasts on show. When I spoke to her on the phone she was brutal. Shouted me down and told me what to do.

I was told to sit in a corner, not in the front where the fabulous view of London was. Pity, it looked great and I was paying the same either way. She phoned, told me to just look towards the door and stand up with the phone to my ear.

She was short, overweight, wearing a voluminous mock fur coat and large dark shades. I pretended to know her, risked a kiss on the cheek and pulled her chair for her to be seated.

‘Sit down! That’s what the maitre’d does.’

I did. He did.

She was bottle blond, curled hair, heavily made up and looked vaguely ridiculous in the dark-lit restaurant wearing shades. Bizarrely she had refused the seat looking into the room. All women looked in to the room, it was a man’s job to look at his date and a wall while she looked round and was, hopefully looked at.

‘Everywhere in London has CCTV. You didn’t come in the front did you?’

‘I came in the first door I saw.’

‘You’re a northerner, you wouldn’t know any better.’

So the north-south divide in place immediately.

After the wine arrived (expensive, white) she took off her shades. Her eyes were stunning. Blue like a Malamute, intense, Kirstie Alley eyes. Fabulous.

After the meal she drove me round London in her cheap Hyundai. She had told me she was waiting for her ex lover’s estate to pay her out. Hundreds of thousands she said. I told her she should buy a decent car.

Amazingly she laughed. We talked in a dark alley in the car before she very kindly dropped me off at my hotel; Well actually it wasn’t my hotel but one close by. I wasn’t totally dim. She asked what I liked and what I wanted to try. Face-to face with a professional dominatrix and I couldn’t tell her. I asked if I could mail my ‘wish list’. She said that was fine.

The night I agreed to meet her was like something out of a bad spy movie. She told me which railway station to go to. Hounslow I think it was. I had to call when I arrived. More instructions. Turn left. Walk 100 yards to the traffic lights. Phone me when you are there. Cross the road, turn right at the pub, call me.

For heaven’s sake just give me the address and I’ll Google it.

Eventually I arrive and it’s a seedy basement flat with a nasty self build wardrobe, a long sideboard that didn’t match, a big metal-framed double bed and a broken standard lamp. It was her ‘work-place’, she said. It was a shit hole. Boy she needed that money alright.

There was a fee to be paid. I counted it out, got a slap across the face and told to put her ‘tribute’ in an envelope next time and not to embarrass her by counting it out. Hmm. Fair play.

I undressed, surprisingly unselfconsciously. She made me dust the wardrobe top after getting down her suitcase of toys and I felt a bit of a berk.

She took off her coat and she was dressed in black. Long dress but with a bizarre arrangement on top whereby her breasts seemed to be in a loop as if it was a bra, but a very strong one. It needed to be, her tits were huge.

She slapped me about a bit, spanked my arse with a paddle which was fairly painful but not remotely exciting and then told me to go pee in the toilet. She was going to come and watch. Well there was no chance of me doing that. Might as well have sewn my pee-hole up.

More spanking, drank some wine, buried my face in her cleavage, spanked my arse some more and then told me time was up. Two hours. No way. It went quickly, but was unfulfilling. We sat outside in the balmy evening moonlight, I was naked and she talked me through her life story and about her pending ‘inheritance’ and how everything would be wonderful when she got the money. Dependent on the court case. She would have her own slaves to be at her beck and call. But there were issues with his family, she had only been his carer after all. She could not see why they would be against her.

She was not impressed with me, we had done nothing on my ‘wish list’ and I was on my way out, having apparently subsidised her trip to a fetish event in Brussels. Just before I got dressed she had me put my cock on the wooden chair that was almost unseen in the corner. She promptly stood on it with most of her weight in her Laboutin pumps she had put on especially for the operation (they made her feet hurt if she wore them out, she said).

I buried my face in her vast breasts and tried not to scream even though I was in real pain. There were to be no marks we had agreed, but later that evening I examined myself and I had a blood blister on my glans and what looked like claw marks on the shaft.

I wanked myself stupid.

It had been sexless, non-erotic and vaguely rubbish. She was so screwed up. I wanted more. Lots more.

2. Sprouts

After another few days of fooling about on the site at night I found a contact that caught my eye. It had a picture of a neck in a thick, shiny steel collar, impossible to say whether the neck was male or female. I think that was deliberate.The accompanying text read, ‘Slavery. If you think what you do for kicks is really slavery, think again. If you think that weaklings become slaves, think again. It takes a courageous person to give themselves wholly to another. If you have the courage, make contact. But be prepared to test your courage to the limit.’

Wow. In amongst all the drivel and the Mistress this, Lady that, this stood out like a beacon. There was something different about it, it seemed, well, real.

I sent a message through the site. I struggled to think of anything that would sound sincere and interesting enough to escape the plethora of messages that she must receive daily. It occurred to me only then that it might not even be a she. To that end I made an ambiguously phrased introduction that inferred I would serve a master or a mistress. I can’t for the life of me remember what I wrote, but it was pretty lame and stereotypical.

Three days later. I got a reply. It said, ‘If you mean what you say, worm, prove it’.

Short and sweet.

I got hard reading those nine words.

I had no idea what to do. Send a reply? Send a picture? I felt I had to make an impression, but how? In the end I asked for a task.

‘Mastress, tell me how and I shall oblige’ I messaged back. Deliberately using a fabricated word to show I still was unsure whether I was speaking to a male or female.

Three days passed again. Then a message, ‘Send me two pictures. One as you would imagine yourself serving a Master and another serving a Mistress. Do it quickly or desist from communicating further.’

Holy shit. What should I do? Presumably as the message implied imagination I would have to mock something up.

I needed effect. I went to a sex shop near Waterloo and bought a flesh coloured dong, Very lifelike, veins and balls. Big. Too big really. I was very embarrassed but the sexy, latex-clad attendant never fluttered a false eyelash as I paid in cash and hurried out with a suspiciously shaped package. In more ways than one! I liked the humiliation of it.

I rushed back to the hotel, drank lots of wine, set up my mobile and began taking shots of myself. In the end I sent the only two that would do the job.

One with the dong buried in my throat, the other with it buried in my arse.

One made me puke, the other made me feel like puking again. I sent them before I lost my bottle (read, sobered up).

Three (of course) days later and after I had been home at the weekend and thought of little else, a reply came back.

‘You are a slut.’ It was a statement and did not ask for a reply. Consequently I did not answer, it nearly killed me.

The following day, another message. ‘Very good, worm. You resisted the urge to reply to my observation.’

‘You may mail me.’

The following day an e-mail address was sent with a message. ‘Be in your hotel room at such and such a time and you will be picked up. Send the address and the phone number. Be there or there will be no further communication. Ever.’

I wanked like a teenager that night but was terrified too. I replied and sent the details and waited in the hotel. A package was delivered, orders given by a female voice on the phone. I was marched off by the big black guy and then my eyes were opened to the reality. I was dressed up in the contents of the box, abused, raped, humiliated, cast out. Compromised at work, made to do unspeakable things with our receptionist and then, in a lust-crazed state, gave myself up to Mistress Madelaine. To be her toy. At her beck and call, but not a slave as such, as I had refused the chance to be her live-in servant.

I still had no idea quite what I had committed myself to and I still don’t.

3. Pruned

My office phone rang. I was in the middle of some financial planning and was on a deadline to get it done by the end of the week or Franklin would be pissed. Expecting Jerry, my erstwhile ‘workmate,’ I was surprised at the caller.

‘My toy, you will be waiting at the hotel for Mr Curtis this evening at 7pm. Be naked.’ Mistress Madelaine’s voice.

‘Mistress, i cannot make it tonight, i have….’

‘Shut up. Listen. Do as you are told. No threats. Just be there’ Click, the phone went dead and my head slumped to the table.

Monday night, I’m knackered after a busy weekend at home, all this work to do and I had arranged an evening in the pub with the team to try and get back in their good books. I managed to get some work done before I left. Fortunately I made a plausible excuse for the team and Franklin had left earlier so I was free.

Back to the hotel quickly, I showered and changed and then remembered I was supposed to be naked. Shit. What was I supposed to do? Put clothes in a bag? Take nothing? How was I going to get out of the hotel? I elected to strip off, sit on the bed and put some loose clothes in a bag and left it by the door. All I wore were my nipple rings that had replaced the ones I’d worn for years and the PA that had been inserted with the use of a large nail at her house that first night. It still made my wince thinking about it. The metal collar and cuffs had been removed before I left Mistress’ house the last time after making my commitment to her.

There was a bang on the door. 6:50. Early, good job I was ready. Curtis would not be happy with me if I had not been ready.

‘The door is open, come in.’

‘Well Mr Booth. This is unexpected.

‘Gabrielle? What the f…., I mean what on earth are you doing here?’

‘Mr Booth, you did say for me to drop by and we could walk to the pub together to meet the others.’

I had clean forgotten to tell our gorgeous receptionist that it was off and now she was here 10 minutes before Curtis was due to arrive. And I had just let her in with me naked on the bed.

4. Shy

I covered myself up by crossing my legs and remaining firmly planted on the bed.

‘Gabrielle, I must explain…..’

‘Mr Booth, I really cannot see why you are so uncomfortable. After what went on at the house the other week, it is really, kind of, stupid. Sorry’

‘Not really, that was different, you would parade around on a beach in a skimpy bikini but wouldn’t expose yourself in that way at home, I’m sure.’ I had a good point, I thought. ‘I’m sorry I forgot to tell you that tonight was postponed, something cropped up.’

‘Really. I can see that.’ Gabrielle had a strange expression on her face and didn’t look like she was in a hurry to leave.

She calmly came over to the bed and sat down beside me, not too close but close enough for me to smell her perfume. She was wearing jeans and a tight cream sweater, up to the neck but not in any way concealing that fantastic body. Her raven locks we’re tied back and she looked stunning. I had never seen her wear anything other than work clothes, which, for her, was a dress or skirt and blouse.

As if reading my mind, she said, ‘Most people dress up to go out, I find I dress down, I hope you like it’

‘Gabrielle, look, this is not right, I’m feeling a little uncomfortable with all this and don’t want you to get the wrong idea.’

‘Er, I think it’s a bit late for that isn’t it. After what we did together, seeing you naked on a bed is nothing.’

‘Well, yes, but…’

At that moment there was a knock on the door and immediately it opened to reveal Curtis, dressed in a sharp suit as ever, surprisingly with his chauffeur hat in his hand.

‘So worm, you are ready I take it and you have your bitch with you too. Not sure that was in the instructions but, hey, what the fuck? Ok, let’s go.’

‘What, just like this?’ I still could not understand that I was supposed to leave the room naked.

‘Move it! We have not got all night.’ Curtis turned to leave and opened the door turning to Gabrielle as he did so.

‘You coming, bitch?’

‘May I?’

‘I don’t see why not, if the boss doesn’t like it she will just send you back home with me. That could be interesting for both of us.’ Curtis looked so sure of himself, convinced she would fall for his charm again.

‘That would be fine, but I would rather see what the Mistress has in store for my…colleague..here’

‘We’ll see,’ said Curtis, ‘but if you’re coming along, bring him with you. Leave the bag, he won’t be needing it’

With that Curtis left the room and Gabrielle took hold of my arm and encouraged me up off the bed.

‘Come on. Let’s go. Put my coat on, quick.’

We left the room, she grabbed the key card from the slot by the door and we quickly headed off after Curtis down the hallway, me with Gabrielle’s coat on, fortunately it was a long coat and she’s a tall girl.

Amazingly we met no-one on the way to the elevator but we had to wait for the car to return, it presumably had already deposited Curtis in the parking basement where I assumed the Range Rover would be waiting.

The lift seemed to take forever.

‘Come on, come on,’ I muttered to myself not relishing the idea of being seen naked in a woman’s coat, whether I was with a beautiful girl or not. That actually almost made it worse.

Eventually the light came on the call bell and the car began its trip up to floor four. The doors opened and out stepped two passengers. Two twenty-something year-old boys. Both of them broke their conversation off as they first took in Gabrielle’s breasts and then my attire. Gabrielle ushered me in the lift, still holding my elbow like I was an infirm old man.

‘Lucky bastard, if I was needing help out of a hotel at his age, she’d be top of my list.’ The two lads were off down the hall, laughing and making lewd comments.

As we arrived at the basement and the doors opened, Curtis was waiting by the door, hand on the call button.

‘Two guys pleasant to you were they?’ He was smiling and had obviously held the lift until someone had come along to use it. ‘They were heading for floor six but I convinced them that floor four was a better choice. Hey, what the fuck are you doing with a coat on, anyway? Take that off right now.’

Gabrielle took hold of the coat and stripped it off me, it wasn’t fastened, I had just been holding it together.

‘Now get in the car. It’s over there.’ He pointed to a bay twenty yards or so away. ‘Keep your head down and the CCTV won’t catch your face.’

Turning to Gabrielle, he leant toward her and quietly spoke.

‘Do not fuck with me, girlfriend. He is not yours to protect and you need to look out for yourself first. You may want to remember you were not invited tonight and the outcome of your evening may well depend on my good nature. Lord help you, is all I can say.’

He then turned towards the car and was off, plipping the central locking just before I got to it.

I heard the car unlock but had no intention of getting in. The back seat and Curtis’ ingenious securing devices were waiting and I waited by the rear door.

‘No way, worm. Get in the cage.’

I went to the back of the car and lifted the tailgate and climbed in the bespoke cage, still with no form of padding in it and Curtis shut the door to the cage and slammed the door down. The windows in the rear were so blacked out that no-one could possibly have seen me from the outside. Small mercies and all that. So here I was again.

Meanwhile, Curtis had opened the passenger door for Gabrielle and she had climbed in.

‘Just the seat belt, or shall I need the extra ‘protection?’

‘Just get the hood out of the glove compartment and put it on like before and then shut up.’

5. Reception

We arrived after a half hour or so of mainly open road driving, Curtis took his time though and I wasn’t shaken about this time. Maybe he had his hat on!

I could see nothing out of the back as the cage roof was at the level of the rear window. Cramped in other words. So I still had no idea where I was. The familiar crunching of gravel under the fat tyres gave away our arrival.

The engine shut off and the tailgate was lifted. I needed no invitation to get out and then realised how sharp the gravel was on my tender feet. Shit. I walked like a wuss to the back door, ushered along by Curtis who was leading Gabrielle by the cords on her bag hood, she was struggling to walk on the gravel in her heels.

No more front door for you, worm, you are no longer a guest. Christ. Had I been a guest before?

We entered the house in the back kitchen and then through into a small, bare, oblong room. Only then did I realise Gabrielle was not there anymore and I was alone. The room had a door at either end on the short sides and both were locked from the outside. There were no windows, no carpet and no adornments on the walls. Providing one didn’t count the numerous eyebolts and the chains hanging from them. Four sets, two on each of the longer sides, some high, some low, some in the middle.

Seconds later the farther door opened and in walked Madelaine. She had on a long leather skirt and a white blouse again and I remembered how powerful she appeared.

Striding towards me, she smacked me clean across the face. Hard.

‘Get on your knees. Head down. How dare you look at me without permission.’

I obeyed.

She then walked behind me and kicked me smack between my legs. Hard.

I collapsed.

She kicked me in the belly then, her pointed boot crashing into my belly.

I grunted.

‘Get on your feet. Do not touch your balls.’

I did so.

‘Now over by the wall, arms above your head’

There were two bolts very high up about a foot apart with a steel cuff on each one attached by a short but very heavy chain. In seconds my wrists were in them. My ankles followed suit to eyebolts near the floor the chains pulled so my legs were spread apart and my arms were now taut, back to the wall.

I moaned.

Then I cried.

She kicked me right in the balls again and then once more just in case she had missed the sensitive bits.

She hadn’t.

She then went to work on my thighs with a short flexible stick, beating the meat of them repeatedly.

I screamed.

She then kicked me in the balls again. Very hard.

I passed out.

6. Accomplice

‘So where is he, dear?’

‘It is in the reception room. Unconscious.’

‘Maddy. For goodness sake, he has only been here five minutes.’

‘V, when you bring your own slave, you can do as you wish with it. I shall do as I wish with mine.’

Victoria, laughed and sipped her gin and tonic. Holding the elegant glass with an equally elegant gloved hand.

‘So what have you got in store for him. Sorry, it?’

‘I am going to teach it its place and prepare it for the rest of its life as my property. It thinks that because it lives outside the house and goes to work and goes home at the weekends to its little wifey, that it is free for those times. It is mistaken. I deliberately shocked it back into its proper place and will then get it ready for its new existence. Mental preparation is everything. Please would you lend a hand while I prepare it?

‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s a rare event even here to welcome a new addition. Where’s big boy?’

‘He is at liberty to entertain the bitch he keeps bringing back. It’s his choice what he does with her. For the time being at least. There is fun to be had with her too, I think.’ Madelaine winked at her friend knowing how she had a fondness for a subservient female.

‘OK , bring the gear and let’s get on with it’

7. Preparation

I awoke hanging from my wrists, the pain in them had brought me round, I think. How long I had been out I had no idea.

No sooner had I got some weight on my parted legs and managed to ease the pressure on my wrists, the door opened and Mistress Madelaine and her friend, Lady Victoria entered.

Victoria had a whole different style, more the stereo-typical domina, all black catsuits, thigh-boots and long blonde hair. She was a stunner, no question. She was carrying a small leather bag in one hand and a drink in the other.

Madelaine was offered the bag and removed a rounded, silvery collar, about a pencil-width in diameter.

She immediately placed it round my neck and closed the two open ends with a very audible click. She then turned it so the join was at the back and I realised it was not circular but shaped to fit quite tight to the side of the neck but hang quite low at the front on the collar bones. It was totally plain and seemed heavy. Steel, I guess.

She then took out a leather hood, shaped and supple and with some help from Lady Victoria, put it over my head and zipped it tight. It was a perfect fit. My cock started to twitch. I could see through the eyeholes but the nose and mouth were enclosed so it was hard to breathe.

I tilted my head to see what was coming next and she took out a leather and chain contraption. She then smacked my head back up against the wall and took hold of my balls and pulled them hard downwards.

Victoria then proceeded to fasten the leather round my extended balls and snapped it closed with pop studs. The chains dangled free and swung against my knees. I had seen one of these on an online fetish shop.  A parachute I think they called it. I had never known what the hell it was for. Now I did.

Suddenly without warning my balls exploded with pain, I had no idea what they had used but it hit the epididymis bang on and I cried again, under the hood this time. I thought my balls were tough but maybe not.

I was then left alone, I heard the door close and I was left with the pain, seemingly getting worse rather than better.

‘So what now, Maddy?’

V had fixed another drink and was seductively smoking a cigarette in a long, black holder, leaning back on the work top in the kitchen, a booted leg stretched out in front of her. There was no-one to play up to, she just behaved like this naturally.

‘Give it half an hour and then we’ll install its ball stretcher. I thought about an MCD, but I don’t really care if it fucks its wife or not. It will have to explain the collar. Easy enough I guess. It appears to like ball stretching as they are pretty long already, too long to be wholly natural so it will have to explain that too. The wife must have some idea that it does this sort of thing on its own. She will have to decide what she thinks is going on. It will have to all be done in degrees, but shortly no one will be in any doubt what it has become.’

‘Excellent. You never bothered with the others like this though. Why the difference?’

‘Because the others lived in and had no ties. They were younger and could explain things away more easily. M, of course, would have me do anything to her, modification-wise and love all of it. But then she never leaves the house unless it’s to mix with scene people, to whom it’s all perfectly acceptable.’

Madelaine paused and prepared a drink of her own, a martini with a black olive.

‘This one has to go out into the world still and I want it to have to make excuses and then have to follow them up with more as things intensify. By degrees, it will become used to the ‘lesser’ modifications and will then fail to hide them. Its nipples are a perfect example. They were quite modestly pierced and subtle until we put the slave rings in. It was no doubt embarrassed and tried to cover them up until it had to wear the huge MCD and then the nipples were secondary and forgotten about as it strived to hide the chastity device. I’m sure it is used to them now and does not hide them.’

‘Clever. So it will basically be conditioned into accepting its state?’

‘Precisely. Simple really.’

They finished their drinks and went back into the room.

My nuts were now throbbing but the skin felt like it was on fire, worse than the ball pain.

It hadn’t taken me long to realise they had attached weights to the chains and the initial pain was them dropping the weights after they had been installed. They banged on my knees and seemed really heavy. After they both entered, the weights were removed and I felt a hand detach the pop studs on the parachute. The same hands then went about pulling and kneading my ball sac using some sort of oil, I guessed.

The hand then stopped and I felt more grab my scrotum and proceed to stuff them into a flexible tube of some sort. Bands of metal were then fastened around the top and bottom of the tube and they felt stretched alright. Not as far as I had done in the past to myself, but close.

More pain then exploded in my brain as Madelaine punched me in the solar plexus and repeatedly slapped my face.

One again I passed out.

8. Surprise

I awoke again and found myself on the floor. My wrists were encircled with steel bands of the same design and material as the collar. Very plain no visible means of securing or removing them. They were fastened together with a simple snap hook.  Not secure to someone with their hands free, but totally irremovable when the hands were together. Ingenious.

I was still hooded and my cheeks and jaw felt sore. I could feel my balls nestled between my legs in the stretcher but they really didn’t hurt that much. My hips were killing me though with lying on the hard floor. I managed to sit up and propped myself up, my back to the wall.

I had only been sitting there for a few minutes when the door opened and in walked Curtis dressed, unusually for him, in tight slacks and a tight ribbed jumper which actually accentuated his magnificent physique.

‘Get up, we’re leaving.’

I was amazed.

‘Well, coming or do you want the shit kicked out of you some more?’

He seemed cross, he had always been pretty patient in the past. I rose to my feet and he ushered me out with one of his huge arms.

‘Get in the car. Back seat.’

I minced along the gravel and climbed in the back seat. Moments later he had unclipped my wrists and was locking them and my ankles into his custom designed seat restraints, my wrists held in the small of my back and elbows out like a chicken, ankles fastened to the bulkhead below the seat squab. He slammed the door shut. I craned my neck and could see Curtis by the back door seemingly quite agitated and eventually Gabrielle emerged. Her jumper was ripped down the front and I just caught a glimpse of a breast as Curtis took her severely by the elbow and marched her across the gravel. She looked to be limping until I realised she was missing a shoe. I knew they couldn’t see me watching through the heavily tinted windows so I took a good look. As they neared the car I could see her make-up was a mess and her hair was dishevelled. The sweater was ruined, ripped diagonally from the shoulder to the waist but held up at the neck by the collar, which was intact.

‘Get in and shut the fuck up.’ Curtis was foul.

She did as she was told, Curtis then hopped in behind the wheel and proceeded to fasten her into the passenger seat in the same way as me. Elbows out to the side and ankles fastened to the base of the seat, he then threw her coat over her head. I could hear her sobbing and it was not pleasant. I felt sorry for her.

‘I said, shut the fuck up, bitch. Don’t fuckin’ whine all the way home, it is nothing to do with me, I have to obey orders too as you well know.’

‘Mr Curtis, please, I thi…’

Turning to me he pointed a finger viciously in my face and said, ‘If you know what’s good for you, you had better shut the fuck up too. It’s your fault this has happened.’

He then turned back grabbed a leather bag from somewhere and pulled it over my head. It was like he was shutting a parrot up in its cage for the night.

We arrived somewhere, the car stopped, engine running. The hood was pulled off my head and I blinked to get my vision back. It was dark and we were in a dimly lit street surrounded by two-storey buildings. Apartments, I presumed. Gabrielle was in the front still but the coat was not on her head any longer

He pushed a button on the dash and her arms fell free and she stretched her legs.

‘Out. I’ll be in touch.’

With that he reached over and opened the door, she climbed out and no sooner had she two feet on the floor he had pulled the door shut and gunned the big V-8, chirruping the tyres before the traction control kicked in. I looked back and saw the forlorn figure of Gabrielle standing with her arms tightly folded across her chest, keeping herself covered up as we sped off down the road.

He said nothing to me and I kept my council despite having a score of questions I wanted to ask. Shortly we were at the hotel, he dipped down in to the underground garage, far too fast and pulled up in front of the lifts.

A  button was pressed and my arms fell free from the restraints built into the seat and the bulkhead ones opened to allow my ankles to move.

‘Here’s your coat, dear.’ Sarcasm and temper. Super.

He flung Gabrielles coat at me in the back and I took the hint and climbed out, still naked and he shot off as soon as I had shut the door, without a hint of a glance at me.

Conscious of the potential CCTV surveillance I quickly got to the lifts and was up on floor four in no time, having met no-one. Reaching my room it suddenly dawned on me.

‘Fuck. No key!’

I patted the coat and checked all the pockets but there was nothing.

I would have to go and ask for a replacement card at the desk. All I could do was button up the coat, do up the belt and head off down to reception. It was only when I was in the lift again that something else occurred to me. I was still wearing the leather hood!

I had already pressed the button for floor 0 and was on the way and I only just managed to undo the rear zip and wrench it off my head, just as the doors opened. Thrusting it into a pocket I exited the lift and walked the short distance to the desk where a mousey-blonde receptionist I had talked to a few times was on duty. She was eastern European, Czech or Hungarian or something, but spoke reasonable English. She didn’t look up until I was almost at the desk, then I caught a slight flicker in her eyes as she quickly took in my coat, bare shins and feet.

‘Mr Booth, er, can I help you at all. Are you okay, sir?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, I have just mislaid my key card, can you make me another please.’

‘Well, normally I need driving licence or passport but I think you not have these, no?’ She was sweet.

‘Erm no, I don’t have much of anything. Long story, I was….’

‘That’s okay, sir, no need explain, I will make spare key right now. You wait please. Two minutes.’

I stood like a drip, so grateful for her discretion.

‘Please, Mr Booth, over there, you take seat.’

She pointed to a small chair in a quiet corner of the reception area and I sat myself down in it and crossed my legs. Why, I have no idea.

I saw her disappear into an office behind the desk and then she came back out with a young guy, the duty manager, I guess. Shit it must be quite late, I had no idea how late though, felt like 11-ish.

‘Man from 412 has locked himself out of room, no key, I make spare for him, ok?

She had almost imperceptibly nodded towards me and the manager looked and saw me huddled in the half light on the chair.

‘You know he is a guest?’ The manager was looking to see if he recognised me.

‘He is long time guest, I know him well.’ I could have kissed her.

‘Okay, do the key and let him back in his room. Why is he wearing…?’

‘I give key, it is not our business, thank you.’

She then came quickly over and handed me the plain, white key card. I thanked her profusely and smiled as I got up and hurried to the lifts and safety.

When she got back to the desk, the manager couldn’t help but ask. ‘Was that a woman’s coat he had on?’

‘I think, yes.’

‘Lucky for him it was a long one. Shame it had such a long split up the back though, eh?’ He pulled a face and chuckled. ‘What do you think to that, Lena?’

‘He has nice arse.’

Laughing they both went in the back office, happy to have had something to brighten up the long night shift.

9. Weekend

I went home at the weekend, Rachel was off work on the Saturday but had just come off night shift so she was in bed most of the day. We went out to dinner (I wore a tie!) and retired to bed fairly early.

It was only Sunday as I was taking a bath that she came in to clean her teeth and noticed my accoutrements.

‘If you get any bigger rings in those nipples they’ll look like a bull’s nose. You are getting weirder down there I am sure. And what’s with the jewellery, what are they steel or what?’

I showed her the wrists bands and the ‘necklace’. I didn’t refer to it as a collar.

‘Hmm, they are actually quite nicely made though not sure why you would want one on each wrist. Unless you were planning on being tied up by them.’

I laughed trying to appear casual.

‘Chance’d be a fine thing,’ I said.

‘In your dreams, sunshine,’ she replied as she turned to leave. ‘One of these days you’ll get your wish and then won’t you be surprised. By the way, stop wearing the tie, that thing round your neck actually suits you.’

That took me back a little. We had fooled around a bit with some play bondage and whatever and I had confessed one night after the pub that I would love to be dominated, but I presumed she had forgotten. Thank heaven she never saw my crotch though, the stretcher was still fastened tight around my ball-sack, covered by discretely positioned bath foam.

I travelled back to London on the Sunday, no sex had taken place again as our work patterns clashed abominably but things were amicable between us.

10. Reception

I had a quiet night in on Sunday and then went into the office very early to avoid the usual crowd talking about their weekend piss-ups and conquests. So it was something of a surprise to see Gabrielle at the front  desk. She had not been on duty since the night at the house.

‘Morning, Gabrielle, how are you. You okay?’

‘Yes Mr Booth, I am over the other night, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Gabrielle, please, don’t call me Mr Booth when we are on our own, it’s ridiculous, can you call me Rick instead.

‘I know what you mean but I have been instructed to call you Mr Booth or Worm. Nothing else. I figure Mr Booth would be better for the office.’ She cocked her head to one side and a hint of a smile lit up her face. ‘Please though would you call me Gee? Only my parents and strangers call me Gabrielle and I hate Gabby, sounds too much like Gobby and no woman wants to be called that, whatever it infers.’

‘Is G your choice, or from the house?’

‘Both actually. They call Emma, you know the slave girl with the tattoo, M, but it sounds like it’s short for Emma anyway, I guess G just made sense for me.’

‘So what’s the deal with you and them? Is it Curtis? Or is it Madelaine whos’ …..’ I was struggling to phrase the question in the proper way.

‘Mistress Madelaine, is Curtis’s master. He is her full time slave but just happens to have risen to the rank he has. He gets certain…privileges, but only on her orders. Unfortunately the other night we expected to get an hour to ourselves and things were getting a little… well, out of hand, when Mistress found us. She wanted him for some task and found him in a clinch with me. She ordered him out and pointed out the error of his ways.’ She looked regretfully at the wall behind me for a moment. ‘That’s why he was in such a foul mood.

‘So how come..?’ Again she instigated the answer before I asked the question properly.

‘She grabbed me by the hair and slapped me about a bit, my jumper got ripped, not that I was fighting back, it just happened. She threw me out after Curtis and that’s when I saw you. I was expecting your evening would be somewhat more time consuming.’

‘I don’t know what was going on,’ I continued, leaning on the front desk now, ‘she hit me so hard I passed out and then she came back in with her mate and laid into me some more. Next thing I knew I was out the door with a collar and bangles and a few bruises to show for my night. It wasn’t much fun.’

‘Well if you expected your future at the house to be fun, under the circumstances, I think you may continue to be disappointed.’

Just then Jerry arrived and walked past turning as he did so without saying a word and waited at the lift.

‘I got to go, much as I’d like to stay and chat. Can we, maybe, you know, meet for a chat sometime and…’

‘Mr Booth, at the moment your situation at the house and mine do not bear comparison. You are ordered there I assume, I just seem to get to tag along, so I don’t see as there is any problem with us having a quiet chin-wag after work. Tonight do you, eight or so at the Warwick?’

‘I’ll be there. Must dash.’

I was trembling like a love-shy teenager and jogged across to the lift where Jerry was just getting in.

‘You are a fucking dark horse aren’t you?’ Jerry opened the conversation immediately the doors closed.

‘Look, Jerry…’

‘Hey, don’t get me wrong. Whatever shit you got yourself into or get your kicks out of, the fact it got you a way in to the Ice Queen downstairs only earns my jealousy and a little admiration. Never thought she was into all that kinky shit too. She seems so straight. What’s the…’

‘Jerry. Really. It is not how it looks and don’t be thinking she’s anything other than a receptionist I was talking to on my way into work.’

‘Well, she’s got the hots for the big black dude that swings by regularly so I’m not sure how you compete with him, but, hey, good on you.’

With that the doors opened at our floor, he set off left to the ‘bull pit’ as they liked to call it and I went right towards the offices.

‘Freaking sonofabitch’ I heard Jerry mutter under his breath as he walked off.

I could barely resist a smile. Despite my lower-than-low status with work and the house, I actually had some street-cred with Jerry now. And that was important to me. I hadn’t managed to amass any in any other way except on the squash court.

11. Warwick

The day passed well enough, I was busy so eventually my head got round to thinking of matters not related to ‘The House’. It seemed we had informally found a name to refer to the other side of our recent lives.

I went back to the hotel and showered, taking care to clean the inside of the ball stretcher as best I could and squeeze some cream down between the skin and the rubber. The skin was starting to get sore but worse was constantly having to walk around with my right hand in my pants pocket to disguise the bulge.

I dressed in some loose jeans to allow me some room at the front, there was no way to get the thing off, the bands would have to be broken and I didn’t want to contemplate the consequences of that.

Gee and I met at the Warwick. I thought of her as Gee almost immediately, it suited our new relationship better. She was dressed down too. Trouble is her dressed down was three times better than everyone else’s dressed up. She attracted admiring glances from male and female alike. Not the green-eyed envious looks from the women either, rather almost lustful looks. How could she cope being the object of so much attention? I would hate it.

We talked and drank a few wines each, we shared a taste for a strong Shiraz and actually found we had many other things in common. I was having a great time and had almost forgotten about our other shared interest.

‘So will you go back? To the House, I mean.’ Eventually I brought the conversation to the other night.

‘Look, I really don’t know what the deal is. Curtis comes to the office maybe three times a week, chats, flashes me those pearly-whites and pecs and then goes off again when his phone rings, which is usually not that long after he arrives. I fancy him something rotten but he is not for me. Daddy would throw a fit if I dated a black guy.’

‘So, what’s..?’

‘I keep telling myself not to have anything to do with him but if he asked me to go to the House again, I wouldn’t hesitate. He was going to fuck me senseless the other night and I was ready and eager. I guess I still am.’

‘Shit.’ Was all the comment I could utter. When I could have done with her to break my sentence again she didn’t. I was more than a little shocked at her language and forthrightness. Ice Queen, eh?

‘So will you be trying? I mean. Would you…?’

‘Rick, let’s be honest, what woman wouldn’t want him for a lover? But he’s a slave to a middle-aged governess and has whip scars all over his back. He wears a collar and manacles 24/7 and fucks anything and anybody he is told to. His name is Stud. That’s what he does. Do you think that bodes well for a regular relationship?’

‘I guess not.’ I was quiet now, actually a bit peeved that he was the focus of the discussion. I had noticed she’d called me Rick though.

‘I tell you what though?’ She continued, completely relaxed by the wine, ‘the sight of you bound up and the things they made you do with me?’

She paused.

‘Stick in my mind more than anything.’

Suddenly my phone rang.

‘Excuse me a moment while I get this. Hello?’ I answered convivially. Wow, what a confession.

‘Don’t even think about having any relations with your new bitch out-with my instructions. Be at your hotel, with her, at 7pm tomorrow evening. Mr Curtis will pick you up and bring you here. Expect to stay the night. Ensure you have what you need to go to work the next day. I do not intend to have you disciplined at work. You will be disciplined enough here, rest assured. Now drink up and leave. Immediately!’

The line went dead. How the hell did she know what I am doing all the time? Instinctively I looked around to see if I recognised anyone, but the few people in the bar on Monday night all appeared to be locals and seemed not to be interested in me. Gee maybe, but not me.

‘Gee, I have to go.’

‘That was her wasn’t it?’

‘Yeah , she knows we’re out together and doesn’t seem very impressed. She wants me at the House tomorrow.’ I was actually pausing for effect now.

‘Okay.’ She looked distinctly let down and was looking around the room trying to appear unmoved.

‘She wants you at my hotel at seven sharp and your hunk will pick us up.’ Suddenly she was all ears again. ‘We will be staying the night so bring a change of clothes.’ I got up, drank the remainder of my wine and made off a few steps to the door.

‘Oh and Gee?’I stopped and turned to her. ‘Don’t wear anything that you are too fond of, eh? Just in case of accidents.’ Laughing I walked off out of the pub.

12. Housebound

The allotted time came all too quickly. I had a quiet, stress-free day at work. Franklin was away on a business trip in Amsterdam. Yeah, right. Jerry and the bulls in the pit were busy doing some presentation and had no need of me.

I didn’t see Gee until mid afternoon when I nipped out for a Pret sandwich. She smiled at me as I came back in and winked. I had a hard-on almost immediately. Christ, she was ridiculously gorgeous. I left for the hotel later and she had gone replaced by a temp whom I had not seen before.

‘Good night, Mr Booth, have a great time this evening.’ She smiled as she spoke.

How the hell did she know my name and what did she mean by that? Was I getting paranoid or were we being carefully watched? I’d have to get her checked out with the agency.

I got home had the obligatory shit and shower but the shave took a bit longer. I had been told that hairlessness was next to godliness and there was to be no growth on my torso. Duly scraped, I dressed in a pair of dark slacks and dark shirt and packed a small holdall with a change of clothes inside. I threw a jacket on that I could wear tomorrow for work.

At six forty-five, there was a knock on the door and it was Gee. She looked sensational as ever. Long dark fitted skirt and a shirt with a jacket over it. She was carrying a small bag too.

‘Hey, how are you? You all set?’ I mustered up a casual air though I felt anything but relaxed.

‘Yep, Ready and prepared. Even got a shirt with poppers rather than buttons. Thought it may be a decent solution to the ripping problem.’ She was funny. I really liked her. ‘So you ready for your evening?

‘Who knows? I am nervous but that’s part of the fun. I am not particularly scared though. Maybe I should be? What are you expecting?’ I couldn’t decide whether we should be discussing this or not.

‘I am expecting you to be grovelling around naked while I am watching and getting horny.’ She paused. She was good at pauses. ‘Then hopefully I will get to join in.’

A loud bang on the door startled us both and as the door did not open, and no-one answered my ‘come in’ I went out into the corridor to find it empty.

‘Guess we got to go.’

With that we made our way down to the garage and into the awaiting Range Rover. The usual security arrangements were made and we were whisked off to the House, eyes covered as ever. Not one word was spoken by any-one.

The restraint belts popped open and I was ushered into the house by Curtis, the bag- hood still on my head. He still had not spoken.

A couple of doors banged and I was left alone. At least I assumed I was alone.

‘Take off your clothes, now. Leave the hood.

‘Of course, Mistress’ For it was she. I was not alone. I heard the click of her heels on the tiled floor.

‘Then put your hands behind your back.’

I did so , quickly.

‘Underwear, worm? What on earth are you wearing those for. Do not wear any again, understand? Ever.’

With that she clasped my upper arms and something metallic and unyielding bit into both arms above the elbows. Forcing them together, she made me thrust out my chest. I was a bit broad-backed for this.

She clipped something to my collar and then dragged me after her, out of the tiled room, up some stairs and then into another tiled floored room. I managed not to stumble though she didn’t exactly go slowly to allow me to keep my balance.

‘Sit’

I was pushed down onto a seat and my legs were pulled unceremoniously upwards and strapped wide apart pointing upwards. The bag was then removed from my head.

I took in my surroundings quickly. A fully tiled room, all white, I was in what seemed like an old dentist’s chair, ankles fixed in stirrups though. Numerous contraptions were scattered about the use for which I neither knew nor wanted to know. Mistress was dressed head to toe in white rubber and was dressed like a matron in a hospital. Except for the material and the white rubber basque worn on the outside of the uniform. She was holding a bulb of some sort in one hand and was supporting a stand with a clear plastic bag filled with transparent liquid in the other.

‘Hold still. Push out your anus or his will hurt.’

Before I had time to process the request she slapped some white gunk on my arse and shoved the bulb into my backside. I huffed and blew out air out of my nose but kept quiet otherwise.

‘Not bad. You may indeed be a natural. She then began pumping the rubber ball and I felt the bulb up my arse expand. A lot!

‘Ok, Stud, bring her in.’

I looked across the room and saw the door open and in came Curtis with a creation from a fetish magazine. A stunning body, lithe and tall but hugely voluptuous was escorted in, dressed from head to toe in a white rubber cat-suit, including a tight hood with eye holes only. Ultra high white shoes were on her feet.

‘I told you, you would have time. You did well to squeeze her into that in such a short time. Your reward is earned, Stud.’

‘Thank you, Mistress, it was an enjoyable task even in such a rush,’ Curtis finally spoke.

But wait a minute…

‘So worm, how do you like your receptionist bitch now? She will watch while I flush out your bowels ready for later.’

13 Humilation

I had never had an enema before. I had often thought it must be quite uncomfortable and wondered how some people could get a kick out of this. Now I was sure. It was uncomfortable all right. She emptied the whole bag into my butt, I have no idea how much liquid there was and what was in it.

‘Pull the bulb out, bitch’ She beckoned to White Rubber Gee.

She got down on her knees and pulled out the bulb, it felt huge as it exited but it came out fairly easily and I clamped my butt-hole shut.

‘Now get on your knees between its legs and look directly at its hole.  You  worm , will hold onto the enema until I tell you to release it. The bitch will remain where she is until that time. She is the incentive. Hold onto the contents of your bowels or she will be pristine white no longer.’

Oh my good god. If it wasn’t humiliating enough to have her in the room while this was going on, there was now a risk I would soak her with my liquefied gut contents.  She made no attempt to resist the predicament she was in. Surely she realised what may happen.

‘Come Stud, we have things to discuss, leave the love-birds to contemplate the price of their unapproved night out.’

With that they left. I could not look down at Gee, it was just too embarrassing.

After a minute or two she spoke. ‘Look, Rick, just hold on, okay but do not panic. If you let go I am covered in rubber from head to toe and I am not Gee, I am a stranger. You do not know me.’

I felt my guts churning and gurgling noises began which were stomach-turning on their own. I lay there for what seemed like an age. Gee was getting uncomfortable on her knees on the hard tiles and she arched her back occasionally to relieve the stress.

I looked down at her, the poor lass, I think I preferred my position to hers. To imagine what she would be subjected to if I failed. A horrid spasm went through my belly and my sphincter opened momentarily and I felt a gush of liquid, just like bad diarrhoea. I couldn’t bear to look.

‘It’s okay, really, there was hardly anything and it missed me.’

Just then the door opened and in came Mistress, alone.

‘So you have not relented yet. Warm piss enemas are so hard to hold. Still, you must let go eventually. Bitch, get the bucket in the corner.’

Gee crawled to the corner and brought back the bucket. Good that she thought to crawl and did not risk getting up.

‘Now hold it in place while he expels my gift.’ She was loving it. Humiliating both of us. ‘Will you be seeing each other again without permission?’

‘No Mistress,’ Gee answered and was treated to a vicious back-hand slap to her rubber-clad arse.

‘Never say no to me, bitch!’

‘I am sorry.  I meant to say, we shall not be seeing each other unless permitted.’

Another pause.

‘Madam?  She added.

‘That’s better. I am not your Mistress and you will address me as Madam. Now worm, expel the enema, you have savoured my excretion for too long.’

It was no use, I couldn’t have held on another second. I felt like my backside had turned into a hose pipe as the foul-smelling liquid exited my butt-hole. Fortunately I hadn’t eaten that much and had been to the lav before we had set off. Still. It was nasty and shameful.

If I had been Gee I would have puked. But she held the bucket and caught the lot.

‘Empty it in the toilet and get back here’ Mistress gestured to the white, lid-less toilet in the room and then came back and resumed her position. ‘Now same again with water this time. A quick rinse, I think.’ She almost laughed.

A warm water bag was emptied in to me by the same method and I was made to hold it in for a couple of minutes before expelling it into the toilet via Gee’s bucket.

‘Good, now lube up its butt well, the better job you do the less it will suffer. I trust you would prefer it to suffer less, but who knows? You have such elegant hands and your wrists are so slim, my dear. You could loosen him up well. Get on with it and I will be back in a moment.’

Gee was now quiet and began attending to her task. She covered her white rubber hands in goo and then actually showed me them. If I could have seen her face through the rubber I would have sworn she was smiling. Her eyes were sparkling for sure.

I felt my hole begin to stretch as she worked the lube into me and she became more vigorous and she was stretching me for sure. It didn’t really hurt that much actually and a sick part of me actually began to thrust towards her. I began to picture the scenario in my mind with my eyes closed and before long I felt my cock stirring and pulling the stretcher tighter as it filled with blood.

The door opened and Mistress entered. I didn’t open my eyes.  I still saw the flash of a camera though.

‘You are doing well, dear, now withdraw and move back, keep your backside in the air.’ Mistress made a gesture as if she was pulling a plunger with one hand as she spoke to Gee.

Withdraw? I felt my hole open further and then close, it was still not that painfull.

I risked opening my eyes and Mistress had bent down behind Gee. She was fiddling with something in the crotch of the suit. I heard a familiar noise, bloody hell it had a zip-out crutch.

‘Now, dear let’s see how much you enjoyed that.’

With that, Mistress crouched and thrust her pelvis forward. Only then did I notice the skirt had gone and been replaced by a foot-long strap-on fastened round her hips.

‘Oh you minx, you really did enjoy that didn’t you, I barely had to push.’  Mistress had guided the monster into Gee’s pussy.

‘Madam, that feels so good. I am very wet.’ Jesus, this is Gabrielle the ice maiden.

‘Well it will serve as a way of easing its passage into its passage, if you get my meaning. Now move.’

Mistress pushed Gee onto her side and shuffled forward and thrust the strap-on right up my loose rectum. That I felt and I let out a moan.

‘Now, worm it is my turn. Too many have used you on my orders, now it is for me. I am going to fuck you until you feel like you possess a pussy rather than an arsehole.’

With that she rammed the thing up to the hilt and banged me like a horny teenager. I was rocking in the chair against the restraints and my pinioned arms were taking the brunt of the force. That and my diaphragm, or so it felt.

‘Stud,’ she shouted, not missing a stroke as she began to plunge the thing in and out of me. ‘Come get your reward.’

Immediately the door opened and Curtis came in, buck naked and sporting as impressive an erection as I had ever seen outside of a porn movie. Effortlessly he picked Gee up onto her feet, turned her towards the wall and eased his own monster into her pussy. She groaned, but it was in pure pleasure.

‘Make sure she cums first and when she does I will stop fucking worm here. Do not ejaculate yet.’

Christ, I could barely look but then again it was impossible not to.

‘Are you enjoying the show or your ass being fucked, my little worm? Actually your worm is anything but little now and I think it answers my question. The relaxant in the lube has allowed you to be stretched further than you would have thought possible.’

‘Oh fuck, Curtis I am cumming. Please don’t stop.’

With that Gee screeched like a banshee and spasmed and bucked on Curtis’s huge prick. I was in sensory overload as the stimuli fought with each other for precedence.  I was enraptured watching her in such ecstasy. Immediately Mistress pulled out of me.

‘Do it, Curtis. Now’ Mistress ordered her slave and, obviously briefed as to his duty, he pulled out of Gee, came over to me and with a couple of strokes of his manhood, shot his load over my hard cock. ‘Get over here and suck this clean and get your hand back in his arse, bitch.’ You stay and watch, big boy.’ She slapped Curtis’ penis hard and he winced. ‘I know how you love bodily fluids.’

I felt my backside stretch as Gee buried her slender arm in my back passage past the wrist and began to simultaneously suck me off, my cock liberally coated with Curtis’s seed.

I lasted seconds before my load joined that of Curtis in her mouth. Only then did it occur to me that her hood had gone and her face was exposed revealing her flushed face and raven-hair, dishevelled like never before. She had not managed to catch all of it and a long string of cum dangled from her chin.

‘Wipe it off her, my stud and then leave us.’  I thought for sure he was going to throw up, he really hated excretia of any type. He gagged as he fulfilled his task and then left. Another flash lit the room and Gee pulled her hand out of my sloppy back end and she held it away from her as if she really didn’t want it attached to her body anymore.

‘So. Consider that a warning and a welcome rolled into one.’ Mistress laughed and followed Curtis out, the false cock banging on her thighs.

14. White-out

It wasn’t long after that i found myself in a nicely appointed room, predominantly decorated in blue; expensive furniture, voluminous curtains and thick pile carpet. I was grateful of the latter as i was on all fours. I thought it unlikely i would ever sample the comfort of the furniture.

Mistress had taken me out of the white-room and brought me to the blue one. She had very purposefully and silently decked me out in chains. Thick and heavy chains with steel manacles and cuffs and a collar the likes of which I imagine the slaves would have worn on their passage from West Africa. It was heavy and tight enough to prevent it from pinching on my permanent one. The chains were loose, they didn’t prevent movement in any way other than the fact that I had to shorten my stride and bear the weight of them. They were dull and dark and looked like they were old. Certainly they hadn’t been a purchase at B&Q that afternoon; she’d had these a while. How many necks and limbs had adorned these chains I wondered.

I loved chain. I loved the unyielding nature of it, the weight of it but above all, the noise it made. I was rock hard.

She had removed the stretcher from my balls and now they were encircled with a thick, hinged collar that was padlocked closed and attached to the chain hobble with a slightly finer chain. When I had been made to walk downstairs the weight of the hobble had been supported by my crown-jewels. I was grateful of being on my knees as only the weight of the thinner chain was pulling them. It was more than enough.

My pierced cock was fastened and held upwards by chain in a Y-shape. That was fine. My arse was another matter.

I had seen enough kinky shit on the web and in fetish movies to know what was used to plug one’s rear end. I had never seen anything like what Mistress had used.  I had seen flesh tunnels in piercing suppliers catalogues when I had been hunting for adornments. They were like tubes but flared at the ends, I guessed they screwed together in the middle or how else would they go through a hole. Or was the hole made that bit bigger to accept the tunnel?

Ah, so there was the answer. Along with the mildly anaesthetic, relaxant lube and Gee’s hand and Her monster cock, She had opened my sphincter up. She had then managed to insert a version of a flesh tunnel in there and my ring-muscle had closed around it. When the relaxant wore off it was held tight but very open.

I‘d had a look as best as I could when She had left the blue room and felt about it with my fingers. It must have been at least an inch and a half in diameter. Inside diameter.  It felt enormous and it held my sphincter apart.

The door opened and I put my head down, the collar then pressing hard up against my jaw.

‘Hello, slave.’

I said nothing.

‘Were you not taught that it was polite to speak when spoken to when you were a child?’ She sounded convivial and relaxed.

I glimpsed her attire and was amazed to find she was dressed in a dressing gown and slippers. Nothing remotely ‘dommish’ about this outfit. She flopped down onto a nearby sofa.

‘Contrary to popular belief a Mistress does not spend the whole day dressed up in dominatrix gear. I intend to relax on an evening, watch a bit of TV, drink a wine or two and put my feet up. I am fortunate to have the means to be waited on  in my relaxation, so I can just sit on the couch and have my every need attended to.

She had a hand-bell and promptly rang it. In a second or two the bald, tattooed, ballerina-like form of Emm entered and prostrated herself at Mistress’ feet.

‘Fetch me a wine.’

The girl got up and dashed off to do her task. She was naked except for the metal impaling her erogenous zones; the massive, intricate tattoo of the serpent curling around her body though made her appear partially clothed.

‘Come here, slave. Twice now she had called me that name. ‘I need to put my feet up.’

I crawled over to be parallel to the sofa and she raised her rather heavy legs and dropped them down on my back.

‘Ah, that’s better. You are a little bony but not too bad, I should have a fat slave for this really but I can’t bear fat men. A complete lack of respect to their body and to me. I should  rather make do with less padding and maybe just use a cushion.’

Slave M returned with the blood-red wine in a goblet and dropped to her knees after presenting it to the Mistress.

‘Leave’

M hurried out.

‘Of course, Victoria will spend the whole day in her tight pants and boots, I swear she must sleep in the bloody things sometimes. She is the male vision of a domme. Would you like that, slave?

‘It is not about what iI like, Mistress, i am here to serve.’

‘Bloody hell, you are a one aren’t you.’ She took one leg down and lightly kicked my erect penis. ‘You are so into this. I may have stumbled upon a rare gift for one such as i.’’

‘Mistress, may i speak freely?’

‘No, you may not, but you may speak, just be very careful of what you say, just yet. You are in transition and can very quickly slip back to being the worm.’

‘This is how i imagined it to be.’

She bent forward and clocked me on the back of the head with something hard. I just about resisted an instinctive expletive.

‘You may speak, but do not refer to yourself in the first person. Should you have to write it you would be required to use a small letter.   As you are speaking you will refer to yourself in the third person. Would you like to re-phrase the question?’

‘This is how this…..may i use the word… slave, imagined it to be.’  That sounded a bit weird.

Clonk. Another blow to the back of the head coupled with almost a giggle.

‘Idiot, you used the first person again, but the answer to your question is yes, you may. You are in the transition to slave so use the word and get used to it.’

‘Then this slave is happy, Mistress.’

‘Oh dear, you are going so going to suffer, my little poof.’

‘Your new slave thanks you in advance Mistress.’

A thought went through my head. I was fucking lost!

15. Visitor

I had knelt at Her feet for some time, she had watched the TV, which was in a large cabinet in the corner and was out of sight when not needed. M attended to her wants and then slinked back behind me somewhere, I assume seated in the classic slave pose; sitting on her calves, arms outstretched, palms up, head down.

Eventually Mistress got up and stretched and allowed me to rest with my back to the sofa, that was as near as I would ever get to comfort this evening. She walked to the TV and turned it off and then left the room. Bathroom break I presumed otherwise M would have been instructed to tend to her. But no, after a minute or two, She came back with a drink and was talking on the phone though the conversation was almost finished.

‘Very, good, see you later dear, ‘ was all I caught. ‘Slave M, go get the open- faced leather hood and bring it back here.

She returned with a very heavy hood and promptly fastened around my neck. It covered my eyes, except for very small holes and upper check bones but left my mouth and nose exposed. It was very tight around the skull. Sexily tight. I could just about see by moving my head about awkwardly

‘Now go stand in the corner, M, help it so it doesn’t fall.’

At that moment I heard a door bell and a in walked a black woman in a perfectly normal dress but coupled with very high shoes. She had wild hair and was a little overweight but was very sure of herself. She spoke to Mistress.

‘Maddy, how are you, thanks for letting me come over. So this is the new one? May I?’

‘By all means, i have obscured it’s face for the moment just to make it feel protected. It won’t feel that way for long though I’m sure.’

The woman walked across to me and I fought the urge to move my head around to see her through the tiny holes.

‘You are a pet, aren’t you, all trussed up in a chains with your big balls pulled down. I love the nipple rings too. So he had these before then?’ She had a pronounced North London accent but was obviously of African descent.

‘Not those particular one, but yes it was pierced. The cock was done in a scene.’ Maddy was drinking and casually showing me off to her acquaintance.

‘I just wish I could beat it’s chest and balls. There are so many things I would love to do. Whip it and smash it’s balls and ram a dildo up it’s arse and then make it suck it clean.’ The woman was almost salivating. She was scaring me to death.

‘Katherine, Katherine, you must be patient I have to train it first and then you may have a crack at it, as it were.’ Mistress was laughing as she spoke.

‘It just turns me on and brings out the devil in me.’

She came round the back and felt my backside and then explored the flange stuck in my anus.

‘So this is what you were talking about?  Intriguing. So I will be able to abuse it sooner than expected then?’

‘You will be patient and when I think it is ready, you may borrow it for the day. And if you bring it back and it is not grateful to see me, there will  be trouble.’

They left the room, ‘Katherine’ gave me a slap on the butt and turned to look at me. She could barely wait.

When Mistress returned, she whispered in my leather covered ear.

‘That, my slave, was Madame Katherine. She likes to call herself Kat sometimes. She is not lifestyle, she holds down a good job and a husband and has to be very discrete. She is, however, one of the cruellest, merciless women, I have ever met and one of these days she will vent her frustration on you. If I get you back damaged but functioning, I will be lucky, but I promised her a day and she will get it.’

‘Be afraid of her. Very afraid.’

16: Bedtime

The evening continued in a mundane manner. I knelt or sat on the floor at Her feet and she did pretty much what any normal person would have done; watched TV, drank a little wine and occasionally stroked my head in an almost tender manner. M fetched and carried and waited on Her, I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. Normally I am not happy unless I am doing three things at once, yet here I was with virtually no stimuli except a fairly uncomfortable backside.

I was relaxed and content.

I had little idea what time it was but I reckon it must have been around eleven-thirty when she yawned, patted me on the head and pronounced it was bedtime.

Was I not going home then? What about Gee? Where was I supposed to sleep? In Her bed?

‘Come slaves upstairs.’

M followed immediately behind Mistress as she climbed the stairs her cute, pert butt inches from my nose as we went up the elegant staircase. I had gone up the back stairs previously, this was the main staircase, very grand. We followed Her into a wing of the house with its’ own bathroom and two modest bedrooms. One had what appeared to be full length, built- wardrobes but when She opened the doors, the illuminated space behind revealed a cage and some ingenious-looking apparatus that must have some bondage use, but I couldn’t for the world fathom quite what.

‘Now stand back to back.’

Eh? I hesitated and was roughly pushed in to place up against M’s back and legs.

‘No that’s no good, lay down on the floor, back to back.’

We did so and she had us shuffle so our heads were on a level. I then heard a click and our collars were fastened together, she then did the same with our wrists and ankles. There was no slack, must have been fastened by a padlock or a carabiner only. The chains on my body were then removed, except for the ones on my balls and nipples.

‘Oh , dearie me I almost forgot.’

She left for a minute or two and then came back, roughly spread my buttocks and stuffed something in the flange in my backside.

‘There, can’t have you voiding on the carpet now, can we?’ She turned to leave, shut the lights off and merrily wished us, ‘Goodnight, sleep tight. Don’t let the nipple clamps bite.’

It took very little time to realise that we served as a mutual bondage frame and that neither of us could move without disturbing the other. It was going to be a long night.

I think I must have dozed off and then absent-mindedly tried to turn over. An attempt which was met with a dig in the ribs and a curt complaint.

We slept fitfully until sometime in the early hours, it was impossible to tell when.

‘Are you awake?’ M finally broke the silence.

‘Yes.’

‘What are you thinking about?’ she asked.

‘The meaning of life, the universe and everything.’ It was a lie, I was thinking about her naked arse pressed against the small of my back.

‘The ultimate question.’ She replied.

’42.’ We said in unison and then laughed quietly. . She obviously knew her Douglas Adams.

‘This is strange enough to be in one of his books.’ I attempted to keep the conversation going, no matter how banal I sounded. ‘A bit of a step away in content perhaps, a little unlikely to have stress position torture in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.’

‘We’re doing well not to panic though.’ Another giggle from her. ‘We could be aboard a Vogon ship, They tortured anyone for fun.’

‘Maybe She’ll appear and read her poetry to us.’ We laughed together heartily.

‘Seriously, though, what were you thinking about?’

‘I was thinking about how good your arse felt in the small of my back.’ I continued, ‘don’t think I’ve ever had cause to use that line before.’

‘I should hope not’  She sounded serious this time. ‘You horny?

‘Kind of. I mean…’

She reached round behind her back with our joined hand s and groped about for my genitals.

‘You don’t seem to be.’ My cock was flaccid.

‘He has a mind of his own and will wake at inopportune moments, though usually not on command.’

‘Maybe it’s not been provided with the right stimulus’. With that she moved her other hand to her crotch, shuffling us so that there was room to get one set of arms underneath.

‘Play with my pussy. I remember you were good at it.’

‘I remember you were impossible to get off unless it hurt.’

‘Then you’ll know what to do then, won’t you?’

She began to stroke my cock as I explored her pierced lips, reminding myself how her inner and outer lips were held together by the rings and the weird grommet deal concealing her clitoris. I began stroking her, feeling her moisten fairly quickly. She squirmed a little and then began stroking my cock.

‘I want you to wank yourself and do me at the same time. Can you do that?’ How often does a man get asked that question in a lifetime?

‘I don’t know but I’ll give it my best shot.’

She took her hand off me and I took over, she kept her hands moving with both of mine so as not to strain our wrists.

I didn’t take long before I was ready to finish, I was hard and leaking pre-cum. She was leaking like a faulty faucet but wasn’t anywhere near to orgasm.

‘Stop fucking about and hurt me.’ She sounded cross.

With that I began to pinch her lips and tug on the rings, which were large enough to get my finger end into. She moaned and writhed. I dug my finger nail behind the clit cover, pulling on the piercing that fastened it in place and was presumably impaling her clit. That made her jump.

‘Oh yes, pull it again, Pull it!’

Never one to ignore a woman’s orders, I did as I was told and was met with a crack on the back of my head as she threw her head back in orgasm and grunted and bucked like a wild animal. I could resist no longer and pumped my cock until it shot its lot into space. The Vogons would not have been pleased.

‘Whooah, that was intense.’ I sounded like an idiot.

‘Just shut up and go to sleep. You men have a natural insomnia cure after you’ve shot your wad, now get to fucking sleep and stop waking me up.’

Some bedroom manner. Was she joking or what? Had she made me cum just so I would fall asleep? She wrenched her wrist out from my crotch and we managed to find a position where we were semi comfortable and sure enough very soon I did fall asleep, my head filled with filthy thoughts and dreams.

17: Hometime

I was released and driven back to town fairly early that morning. Mistress actually came in and unfastened us from each other, never said a word and then locked M in her cage in the ‘wardrobe’. She quickly and efficiently removed the chains from my various parts and discarded them on the floor before she left. I was left to my own devices in the room, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with my relative freedom.  Only after a moment or two did I notice my bag in the corner with my clothes I had brought with me. I noticed there was something on the top of the bag and, on inspection, found it to be a rubber jock with a plug sticking out of the crotch. It then dawned on me I had the grommet wedged in my hole and this plug looked like it would fit in it.

Firstly though I needed the loo. I was not happy with the idea of leaving the room without permission. Opening the adjacent door to the ‘wardrobe’ now holding M, I found a small closet, which actually contained a closet! I squat down and removed the item Mistress had used to prevent me ’voiding’ as she put it. It was like a plug, a sink plug, stopper, call it what you like and I decided it would probably be best if I squat to pee rather than stand up. There was no need to have done as my colon must still have been empty after the irrigation it had endured the night before. The stopper was the same basic shape as the accoutrement on the rubber pants so it was obvious this was my attire for the day at least and that it was not going to be removed. To be honest I was pleased because I had no idea how I was going to remove it anyway.

I had barely finished dressing, pulling my trousers up over the rubber pants when Curtis came in.

He didn’t speak, just opened the door and held it while I exited. There was no sign of Gee.

I was taken straight to the office, getting there a half hour or so before I normally would have to find the new receptionist behind the desk again.

‘Good morning Mr Booth, how are you feeling this morning?’ she opened with a sardonic smile.

I was tempted to try and see how much, if anything, she knew but decided against it and went upstairs barely acknowledging her greeting.

I sat at the desk and began reading my e-mails. Usual bollocks copied from every conversation going on in the team crowding out the odd important one. There was an invite from Franklin later in the month which I had to accept and add to my planner. It didn’t take me long to realise that sitting on an office chair with a flange up my arse was not conducive to concentrating on work. It dug into my bum cheeks and pushed awkwardly against my sphincter. No amount of shuffling and re-adjusting made it any more bearable. I ended up fidgeting every few minutes.

After an hour or so I had to get up and walk around which was blessed relief. I went in and spoke to the team about a few issues and they were all friendly and happy enough. I seemed to get the odd glance at my neck and then to my wrists; one of the girls actually commented she liked them. I had an open-necked shirt on so there was no way to cover the collar. In all honesty I had not thought to, I had already exposed it to my wife so there was not an issue having it on view to anyone else. I was actually more concerned as to whether I was walking properly or not. I was all too conscious of my stretched back end, more so than of my balls when they were in the stretcher all day. The rubber pants were becoming increasingly hot and sweaty also.

By mid-morning I was sat on two cushions I had found on the sofa in the canteen. I had them propped in my office chair in such a way that my weight was supported on my buttocks via the cushions, leaving the flange lifted off the chair. It was bliss.

One of the younger girls came round for a word and shot a quizzical glance at my unconventional seating arrangement.

‘The seat height adjustment’s buggered,’ I ventured, as an explanation to the unasked question. ‘These office chairs are rubbish.’

‘Sir, I could always get you another one, there is no need to struggle with the seat set so low and perching on cushions. I’ll go find you a spare’

‘Really, Becky, it’s fine, actually it’s more comfortable like this, I may end up setting a new trend.’ Well I wasn’t lying about it being more comfortable. ‘And Becky, please. Don’t call me Sir, I am utterly undeserving of that title.’

I usually had lunch at my desk, but under the circumstances thought I could do with a change of scene so I went into the canteen a little late so as to avoid the rush. Avoid looking odd actually. I was convinced I wasn’t walking properly anymore.

Sitting at an unoccupied table I felt a hand on my shoulder and the Gee kissed me on the cheek and sat down beside me. Actually pulling the chair closer to me rather than moving it further away as most did.

I noticed a glance or two from a few of the office staff and a few strangers too. We shared the canteen with a few other departments within the building, many of whom may  not have seen Gee on our reception but were certainly making up for it.  A few nudges and a few more heads-closer-together conversations appeared to be taking place than before.

‘Good morning, Mr Booth. How are we feeling today?’ She looked directly into my eyes and smiled.

‘As well as can be expected, I think is the correct phrase.’ I caught a whiff of her scent. It was perfect for her.

‘One of the girls on your floor came down looking for a spare office chair and happened to mention it was for you and that you were making do with a cushion to raise the seat height. She said you were so sweet and didn’t want to trouble anyone so she was going to sort it for you. I put two and two together and thought you might be better off as you were. You look fine now, are you getting used to it?’

‘Gee, it is indescribable how bloody awful it feels. I didn’t want to eat either as I have no idea how I am supposed to ….., well, you  know, when I am in this state.’

‘Madam did say that she expected you would not eat.’ She used the term of address she had stumbled upon with Madelaine. I would never have dared call her by that name even when she wasn’t around.

‘Well I am starving and have only had soup. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when I have to ‘go’.’

She smiled and threw her hair back to one side of her face. I took a long look at her and revelled in her profile. She was a stunner from every angle, in every way and her new approachability made only enhanced that.

‘Maybe I could come up and make you more comfortable later?’ she implied an ulterior motive.

‘I f you can find a camouflaged rubber ring I can sit on, you will be most welcome.’

She laughed, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

She then pecked me on the cheek again, rose elegantly from the chair and then strode off in her heels and tight skirt as if she was on a catwalk in Milan. Not one ounce of self consciousness radiated from her. I never asked her what had happened the night before or how she got home or even if she got home. Probably best not to as I would have been overcome with jealousy thinking about it.

18. Party

I got a call midway through the day telling me to be ready outside the office at 5-45. I wasn’t usually even ready to leave by then. I was through reception a minute or two early wondering where Curtis would be, only to find him in reception. Gabrielle wasn’t there; the temp was manning the desk again and, unusually for a woman, seemed to be oblivious to his charms.

He rose as I passed through the foyer and entered the revolving door before me, declining to speak or acknowledge me in any way.

The temp said goodnight and then followed it with, ‘good luck.’

I had no time to react and followed Curtis quickly to the car. The usual palaver with restraints followed and the customary leather hood was placed on my head.

On arrival I was ushered in to the holding room as I now thought of it and decided to strip off. It seemed the thing to do.

The door opened shortly afterwards and I was surprised to find it was Lady Victoria who entered, clad in her customary cat-suit in red with black, thigh-high stiletto boots. She had a cigarette in a holder in one hand. It was almost a uniform for her.

‘You are finally getting the message. Leave the jock on and then follow me. Mistress is waiting. We are having a few people round tonight.’

I followed her into a room in the main house, past the huge staircase and into what I believed to be the ground floor of the wing where I had spent last night. A corridor led to a vast conservatory overlooking a formal garden but I only glimpsed it as I was lead into a room to one side.

It was huge. Bare wooden floors, big chesterfields around the room, curtains drawn so it seemed very dark. It was very atmospheric and quite foreboding. Not lessened by the St Andrews cross on one wall, two upright pillories made of solid oak, one with some frame contraption attached to it and a heavy steel cage dangling from the ceiling.

It was a den of perversion. Hung on the walls all round were various whips, crops, floggers, masks, chains, manacles, just seemingly every conceivable instrument that could be used in a BDSM scene. It wasn’t a dungeon, it was way beyond that.

‘You are not invited as a guest, nor are you sufficiently trained to actively participate so you will be here to observe and to be introduced to the scene proper. Come.’

I followed her and she went over to the pillory with the frame behind it, lifting the upper beam on the stock and two lids on the frame’s wooden floor.

‘Stand with your legs inside the frame and put your head and arms in the holes on the beam. I’m sure you can figure out what goes where. As I lowered my neck into the large hole and put my wrists in the smaller ones, she dropped the beam shut. Christ she’d have done some damage if I hadn’t put myself in the right places.

She snapped a lock closed on a hasp at one end and then closed the two floor flaps around my legs. Essentially my feet were on the floor and a false wooden floor trapped my legs in place, shoulder width apart. I pushed my butt backwards and felt another piece of wood behind me positioned right underneath my backside. In one swift movement she removed the rubber pants and popped the plug out of the flange, exposing my rectum to fresh air. It was a weird feeling.

‘Have you eaten today?’

‘I had soup, my Lady’

‘Well soup or not you will need emptying. I’ll be back’

She returned shortly afterwards with M in tow. Clothed, amazingly. She was towing a stand with an enema bag and hose hanging from it and an attachment at the end that looked like it would fit the flange. Sure enough M fitted the attachment into the flange and then opened a valve and let the contents of the bag pour into my guts. There must have been a good couple of litres of fluid in it.

When the bag was empty, M left and returned with a bucket. She was wearing long, pink, rubber gauntlets up over her elbows. The plug was removed after a few minutes and the water drained out. There was a little spasming of my gut but the strange feeling in my ass was absent as I had no sphincter control, the muscle was just locked open.

M left carrying the bucket but no-one replaced the stopper. My inner self was exposed. Lady V then reached behind me, pulled my balls from under the beam and dragged them down hard against the wooden cross-member.  I felt something fasten round them and then she left, heels clip-clopping on the hard floor.

I pulled forward and my balls were indeed fastened tight behind the board running across the back of my legs. It was going to be another long night.

It was maybe a half hour later when people started to arrive and after what seemed like an hour or so the large room was actually fairly full.

At first I struggled to hold my head up so I could watch and take in the guests but after a while my neck began to kill and I had to rest it. Unfortunately that meant putting pressure on my Adams Apple so that soon became painful too.

The lights were dimmed right down now and I heard some wailing and laughing going on. I caught brief glimpses of males and females crawling around the floor on dog leads, dressed in various fetish costumes. I managed to crane my head round enough to see some poor soul getting thrashed with a whip while fastened to the St Andrews cross. He had a massive erection.

Finger food was served and I assume plenty of drink and maybe even some more illicit substances but I was party to none of it and was on the point of passing out from the strain of remaining bent at ninety degrees. I heard a clink of metal on a glass and the room came to order.

‘Masters and Mistresses, Slaves and Subs, Studs and Sluts. I trust we have no worms.’ A polite ripple of laughter. ‘Good, this is no place for worms. As some of my closest friends know I have taken a new slave into my house. It graduated from worm status just this week so it seemed like a good time to introduce you all to it and induct it into our circle. I toyed with the idea of naming it with a letter but it’s surname begins with B and that doesn’t work for me, so it shall be christened according to it’s lineage in my stable. As the seventeenth to be brought under my charge at some time it shall henceforth be known as 17. I rather prefer the figure rather than the spelled form if any of you need to write it. As this is a naming ceremony I shall ask for a simple declaration from the slave and then shall name it and offer a toast to it’s new life as my property.’ She then took a drink of wine and continued in a less formal manner.

‘I do hope it doesn’t turn me down at the altar, it would be so embarrassing.’ The congregation laughed heartily. ‘So without further ado, please bring in the naming party.’

I felt my head being raised and two hooks were placed in my nose with cords passing over my forehead and fastened onto the beam to support the weight of my head. My mouth hung open. I must have looked like a pig.

I watched as Lady V and another similarly clad lady walked forward, followed by M holding what looked like a roll of cling film and a small bag, and Curtis holding some sort of wand with a cable attached to it. I couldn’t see it properly.

Behind them were two masked males dressed in fishnet stockings, garter belts and high-heeled ankle boots. Both had similarly pierced nipples to my own but from them two chains were attached to the front of a large tray carried below their genitalia. My analytical mind kicked in and I tried to figure out how the back edge of the tray, nearest their bodies, was being supported. The trays were full of charged champagne glasses.

The two dommes, Curtis and M passed behind me in processional fashion. The male subs walked round and served the drinks. Well actually they just held them as when they turned I noticed their hands were fastened behind their backs.

When the trays were finished they came to stand beside the pillory, one each side of my head. Their empty drinks trays were now in full view. I managed to move my head to satisfy my curiosity. I wished I hadn’t.

Their scrotums were fastened to the trays with staples. From a staple gun. Must have been a dozen in each. I shudder to think how that must have hurt and it must still hurt. And how the hell would they get them out? Holy shit.

‘You, slave, do you agree to being named 17 and henceforth be declared my property.’

‘Of course Mistress.’ I almost just said ‘yes mistress’

‘So everyone, let the initiation begin. V, if you please.’

I heard a swish and a bolt of pain shot up from my balls.

‘One!’ The room shouted as, well, one.

‘Two!’ A repeat, same swish, same pain, something whipping against my balls pressed flat against the wood. I writhed and pulled them more and caused more pain.

‘Three!’  I screamed out as the pain got worse again.

‘Four.’ The room was getting louder and louder. My head was spinning. Someone removed the nose hooks and my head was free to thrash around, all thoughts of stapled scrotums being bad was banished, this was hell.

I think I heard ten, before the world went fuzzy and I felt the blood whirling in my ears just like if I threw up after way too much beer, I was on the way out.

‘Seventeen’ The crowd shouted at the top of their voices.

‘Do it!’ Shouted Madelaine.

I instantly shot forward into the pillory, all fifteen stone of me smashing into it like a scrummaging machine. No wonder it was solid. A pain the like of which I had never known shot through my right buttock and I screamed like a woman giving birth. I smelt a foul stench for a fraction of a second and that was the very last I remember.

I came to, laid face down on a bench, my arms hanging below. My waist was fastened to it with a belt of some sort and M was gently mopping my head with a cold towel. I instinctively tried to reach behind me but M stopped me.

‘Please don’t touch it. I have disinfected it, applied salve and it is covered in cling film to protect it from infection.’

‘What did they do to me, M?’

‘You have been named. I was tattooed in full view of the same people, mine took hours. I had never let a tattoo needle anywhere near me, not had one piercing before I was made Mistress’s. I was terrified of needles, that is why I am punctured and written all over with needles. I actually love them now.

‘So what happened to me?’

‘They had your balls in a strap, Lady V beat them with a riding crop. Hard. Then she branded you with an electric branding iron. The number 17, in the European way, with a bar across the seven. It’s quite ornate. Looks nasty now but will heel nicely if I tend it properly. You will not be able to walk or sit for a while. You have been excused from work until further notice. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The brand is not that deep when it’s an electric brand. Not like a fired iron, That can cause nerve damage. Not good. Now just try and sleep and I’ll keep you hydrated.’

I felt woozy again.

‘I have given you a sedative so just sleep and time will do the rest. By the way, you may think you screamed and made a fool of yourself but you were actually extremely brave. I am proud of you, 17, you will do well here.’

With that I slipped off into limbo. It was blissful.