Samantha woke rather disoriented the next morning, but quickly understood her situation. Her arms were still tied behind her, but rope had now been added to tie each leg individually, ankle to thigh. She had been gagged with a cloth stuffed into her mouth, held in place by a length of rope tied around her head. Looming over her, she could see Rob kneeling on the bed, pushing her knees apart, his cock magnificently erect and about to thrust into her. What a way to start the day, she thought enthusiastically, mirroring Rob's reaction the previous day.

"Take it, slut!" Rob cried out as he entered her violently, shaking the whole bed frame as he fucked her, seemingly not caring about her feelings or pleasure, or the pain he might be causing her. But he had judged her correctly. Samantha did find it quite painful to be penetrated so vigorously, but that was overwhelmed by the intensity of her excitement at the sensations coursing through her body. It was no surprise to either of them when they reached a screaming climax together.

After this delicious start to the day, events proceeded much the same as the previous morning, with Rob showering while Samantha cooked breakfast. She fried up as much as she had done before, but this time put it all on one plate in the hope that Rob would share it with her as she knelt submissively beside him.

But it didn't work out that way. He fed her quite sparingly, maybe a rasher of bacon, a few baked beans and half a hash brown, while taking his fill. There was still quite a lot on the plate when he pushed back his chair.

"I couldn't eat another thing," he said as he put his knife and fork down, "you need to cook less, slave." Samantha had to once again watch him throwing away the food that she had hoped to be eating, and she felt the emptiness in her stomach. Is he deliberately starving me, she wondered, or is this the patented slave diet?!

"Put these on, slave," Rob ordered after Samantha had showered and dried herself as best she could, handing her the ballet boots which he had bought the day before. He watched as she struggled into them, then bent down to make an adjustment. When he had finished, Samantha looked down to see that he had attached small golden padlocks at the top of the laces, ensuring that she couldn't take them off even if she wanted to.

"Spend a couple of hours getting used to them," he said, "I want to see you walking confidently and sexily in them. As practice, you can vacuum the flat." He pointed out the vacuum cleaner and walked away to do something else, leaving her with another menial task - suitable for a slave, she thought ruefully.

It felt weird to be cleaning house wearing kinky boots and nothing else, but she gradually came to terms with the challenge of maintaining her balance. Slowly, she started to look less like Bambi on ice and more like the sexy maid Rob had been looking for.

"Come here, slave," Rob summoned her into the bedroom. He tied ropes to her wrists and, attaching one to the light fitting on one wall and the other to the wardrobe on the opposite wall, stretching her arms out on either side of her at shoulder height. He also tied her ankles so that her legs were held wide apart. He didn't need to gag her, but he did so anyway, joking with himself that she wouldn't feel like she was getting her money's worth otherwise. He tied a cloth over her eyes, blindfolding her, so that what he did next would be a 'pleasant' surprise.

Samantha had no idea what was going on, and feared that she was about to receive a whipping - that's what Master's do to their slaves, isn't it, she thought. They tie them up like this and whip them mercilessly to teach them servility, don't they?! Oh God, this is going to be so painful! There's nothing I can do, I can't get free or even beg for mercy, all I can do is take it, just like when he fucked me this morning! As she pictured in her mind her torture to come, she became uncontrollably excited!

"Keep still," Rob grumbled, "this is delicate work!"

Delicate work? What does that mean, she wondered. She flinched when she felt something touch her close by her pussy, thinking it must be the first blow of his attack, but quickly realised that it was more of a tickle than anything else. She got control of herself and managed to stop herself wriggling as whatever it was brushed all over her Venus mound and pussy lips.

The tickling sensation continued down between her thighs, right across her vagina, then moved back up and described an arc over her hip bones. Rob shuffled around behind her and continued. He wasn't much of an artist, but he was enjoying this. From Samantha's point of view, the tickling had now moved to her bottom as whatever was brushing against her worked up between her buttocks and then seemed to fan out across her hip bones to the place where she had been touched before.

There was a brief hiatus, then she felt a similar sensation across her breasts, eventually forming a line all the way around her body, thin across her back but touching most parts of her breasts, from just above her nipples to right underneath, where they met her chest. She was completely confused by all this, wondering what on earth was going on. Feeling rather frustrated, she knew she would have to wait until Rob removed the blindfold before she would find out.

"There," Rob said, straightening up, "all done." He removed Samantha's blindfold and she looked down at herself to see what exactly had been done. What she saw seemed to be black paint over her breasts and pussy. She looked up at Rob with a confused expression.

"It's such a lovely day out there," he explained, "that I thought it would be nice to go out and sunbathe but, unfortunately, you didn't have a costume. But - hey presto! With this latex paint I bought yesterday, you look perfectly respectable! You just stay where you are for half an hour or so while it dries, and then we can go down to Hyde Park and catch some rays, with all the other sun worshippers!"

Samantha looked at the smug smile on his face, then back down at her body. He had painted a rather skimpy black bikini on her - the top had no shoulder straps and the bottom was in the style of a high-cut thong. Yes, her 'bits' were covered, but anyone close to her would quickly see through this and know that, but for a bit of body paint, she was naked! She could see her nipples standing out, noticing that they seemed to be standing out a little further than usual due to her predictable arousal, and her labia, even though black, were perfectly obvious at this distance.

He can't really expect me to go out in public like this, she thought, nervous excitement churning her stomach. There's humiliation, and then there's public nudity, which was still an arrestable offence, wasn't it?! Unfortunately, this just made her imagine being led away in handcuffs by police, locked in a cell for the night, and…

She had to consciously stop herself thinking any more on that track, frightened that the fluids starting to lubricate her vagina might damage the paint job!

"I've decided to take pity on you, slave," Rob said as, sometime later, he ungagged her and released her from her bondage. He handed her a silky, semi-transparent sarong, which she wrapped around her chest, fastening it with the clasp he provided. It covered her from armpits to the tops of her thighs and, although someone could see through it if they really tried, the combination of the patterned cloth and the body paint maintained her modesty for all but the most determined spectator.

They made their way to the underground slowly as Samantha minced along in the ballet boots. She was embarrassed that, once again, she had to kneel on the dirty carriage floor throughout the journey into town, and she worried that the sarong would fall open and reveal her painted pussy, but she got away with it.

Hyde Park was busy with sunbathers, picnickers, and people strolling in the sunshine. Many of the girls lying out were wearing bikinis but, Samantha thought ruefully, none quite like hers!

She was relieved when Rob led her to a relatively secluded spot some distance from anyone else. But she was still nervous and embarrassed when he told her to remove the sarong and lie out on the grass on her back. He handed her an aerosol of sunscreen and told her to apply it.

"Be careful not to get it on your 'bikini'," he warned, "you probably don't want it to react with the paint and make it peel off!" Samantha was very careful and, after a few minutes' application, her body was glistening with oil. Rob took off his shirt, leaving him in just his shorts and sandals and, after using the sunscreen himself, laid down beside her.

They sunbathed for an hour or so, gently cooking in the beautiful weather. Samantha looked up nervously whenever anyone wandered by, checking their reactions to see if they noticed anything unusual. Most didn't look in her direction, but she noticed a few double-takes, as if they couldn't quite believe their eyes, and there were a couple of girls - one nudged her companion to attract her attention, after which they dissolved into giggles. She felt as though she had got away with it, and was gradually able to relax.

"Phew, I'm hot!" Rob exclaimed, "go and get us a couple of ice creams, slave." He handed her some money and she got up, looking around to see where she needed to go. She spotted an ice cream van a couple of hundred yards away but, to her alarm, saw that there was quite a queue waiting at the hatch in the side. She reached for the sarong, hoping that Rob wouldn't notice the movement.

"I don't think you need that, slave," he chided, wagging a finger at her. Reluctantly, she abandoned the garment and slowly tottered off towards the unsuspecting crowd. As she approached the van, she noticed, rather ironically, that it was a Mr Whippy!

She managed to join the back of the line without being noticed, and she stood as close as she dared to the large man in front of her, hoping that his considerable bulk would hide her from general view. It seemed to be working as the queue moved slowly forwards without anyone shouting out 'the Empress has no clothes!' She was nearly at the front, when…

"Holy fuck!" she heard a male voice hiss behind her, "Will you look at that!"

"Nice ass, huh?" a second voice responded, "pretty sexy bikini too."

"That's not a bikini, you moron!" the first voice said urgently, "it's paint - she's stark bollock naked!"

"Oh my God, you're right!" a third voice said. Samantha blushed deeply, but didn't dare look round - she certainly didn't want to give them a frontal view! Luckily, at that moment, she reached the front of the line.

"Could I have two cones with chocolate flakes, please, Sir," she asked the vendor, remembering her manners. She could see that his eyes were virtually out on stalks, and they hadn't moved from her breasts. She realised that, while she was close enough to the van to prevent anyone getting a clear view of her pussy, she was giving the ice cream seller a close-up of her painted breasts, with their nipples standing proudly to attention.

"Er… sure… yeah… absolutely," the man muttered before finally dragging his gaze away from her chest to get the ice creams.

"There you go, love," he smiled, his eyes once more firmly fixed on her fake bikini top, "two 69s - I mean 99s!" Samantha handed over the money and took her change, turning gratefully to make her way back.

She found herself facing four young men, probably in their late teens, and guessed that they were the ones who had been behind her in the queue. It was clear that all thoughts of ice cream had gone out of their minds as they stared at Samantha, grins plastered on their faces. She tried to walk past them, but they moved to block her way.

"Alright, darling?" the one she had heard first said, "that's a lovely pair you've got there!" The others sniggered at this, and one of them took out his mobile phone and took a picture. This seemed to inspire the others, and moments later, all four of them were taking pictures, standing next to her for a selfie, or lining up alongside her while their mates snapped away.

As they were distracted, Samantha saw her opportunity to escape, and began walking towards Rob as quickly as she could in the ballet boots.

"Aw, don't run away, darling," one of them called after her, "I've got something here for you!" They were following her, walking alongside and staring at her bouncing breasts. One of them walked in front, holding the front of his shorts, and it was obvious that the 'something' he had for her was his erection.

Samantha looked over at Rob, hoping for some rescue, but he was just watching the events with a smirk on his face. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her left buttock.

"Mmmm, she's hot, and I don't just mean sexy!" She felt another hand grab her right breast, but she kept walking, trying to ignore them and the way they were touching her up. But she had no option but to stop when one of them stood directly in front of her and cupped her sex.

"Please, Sirs, let me go!" Samantha pleaded desperately, "my Master…"

"'Sirs'? 'Master'? What the fuck? What's with you, bitch?" the one standing in front of her said, forcing his middle finger into her now-wet pussy.

"I-I'm my Master's slave, "she answered, her voice quivering a little in fear at what this honesty was going to lead to.

"Master's slave, huh?" the teenager in front, clearly the leader of this little gang, said with a wicked smile, "well, Master isn't here right now, is he? Maybe I'll be your Master!"

"I think that's enough, lads," Samantha heard Rob say as he walked casually towards them, "let my slave through - my ice cream's melting!" The young man gave her a defiant stare which seemed to combine anger, frustration, lust and hatred, before finally deciding he should back down, and moved to one side. Relieved, she continued on, towards Rob and away from the gang of youths.

"Oh, thank you, Master!" she gushed as she sat down on the grass once more.

"Don't worry, slave, I'll keep you safe from your many admirers," Rob smiled, "but I will be punishing you later - I'm sure you were leading those poor lads on."

"Yes, Master," Samantha responded, feeling surprisingly excited about the prospect of being punished - just as a real slave should be, she thought.

They spent another couple of hours sunbathing before making their way back to Rob's flat. Once inside, the sarong was discarded and they started to peel off the latex paint of her 'bikini'.

"How are you coping with those boots, slave?" Rob asked as he scraped away at the paint between her buttocks.

"Surprisingly well, Master," Samantha replied, picking the latex off her nipples, "I thought they would be killing me by now, but they're not too bad."

"Good, then you can finish cleaning the flat in them!" Rob decided to make the job a little more interesting by tying Samantha's elbows together behind her back - not tight together, as that would have made things impossible, but close enough to pull her shoulders back, forcing her breasts forward, and making cleaning the kitchen and bathroom tiled floors and dusting through very awkward. Having made sure that she was carrying out her slave duties diligently, he retired to the sitting room with a beer to watch the football on TV.

She had been working away for about an hour when Samantha heard the doorbell ring.

"Get that, slave!" Rob called from the sofa. Feeling familiar butterflies stirring in her stomach, she made her way to the front door and, with some difficulty, opened it a crack and peered around it.

"Delivery for… Rob Elliott?" the young man in the hall said questioningly. He was wearing a UPS-logo polo shirt and shorts, and Samantha could see a large box behind him.

"Yes, Sir, this is the right place," she said and, judging that the box was far too large and cumbersome for her to manhandle, especially with her arms restrained, added with a nervous tone, "could you bring it in, please?"

"Yeah, no problem," he replied, and started to push the box towards the door. Samantha managed to hold it wide open, while still hiding herself behind it. The delivery man dragged the parcel into the flat and leaned it against the wall. He reached for the electronic delivery recording device hanging from his belt and turned towards her.

"Could I have your signature, pl…" This was the precise moment that he looked up and saw the naked young woman in front of him. His eyes flicked from her face to her breasts and then down to her pussy. I said I wanted to be objectified, Samantha thought, and I am certainly getting my fair share of that today!

It took quite a while for the delivery man to regain any semblance of composure and, as he stepped towards Samantha holding out the screen and electronic pencil, she saw that his shorts were suddenly bulging fit to burst. It was the reaction she had expected and, she admitted to herself, hoped for.

He couldn't understand why the naked girl was holding her arms in such an odd position until she turned to the side and reached for the stylus, revealing the rope binding her elbows so awkwardly. She grasped the small plastic rod and, with difficulty, scrawled on the small screen. When he checked it, he found that she had written 'SLAVE'.

"Er… thanks, Miss," he said, clearly reluctant to leave, "do you need some help unpacking it? Or moving it to another room?" Or maybe you'd just like me to fuck you right here and now, he thought eagerly.

"You're very kind, but no, thank you, Sir," she smiled, rather enjoying the hungry look in his eyes, even though he still wasn't looking at her face Slowly, he shuffled out and, with a last, wistful backward glance, watched the beautiful nude close the door.

"Flirting with the delivery guy, now, slave?" Rob asked harshly, standing where he had watched the little scenario play out. He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the bathroom.

"No, Master! I-" Samantha whined, but was quickly silenced.

"Enough!" he cried out, "I said I was going to punish you, and now you deserve twice as much!" He forced her against the freestanding towel stand and, using the rope he had placed close by, bound her ankles to the base of it at either end. He untied her elbows and then quickly tied her wrists to the stand at the other side, leaving her doubled over the rail with her buttocks raised and available.

"I got myself a present yesterday as well," he said and, looking around with difficulty, Samantha saw that he was holding a riding crop and flexing it, bending it threateningly. Oh fuck, she thought, he's really serious about this punishment!

He flicked the crop, and the leather patch slapped noisily against her right buttock, bringing a squeal from the helpless slave. He delivered another stinging smack, then another and another, continuing until she was crying, and her cheeks were blotched where his blows had landed.

"What do you say to your Master, slave?" he taunted, "you should be grateful to be receiving such loving attention! Tell me how grateful you are, slut!"

"Thank you, Master!" Samantha cried out as the crop continued to crack against her flesh, "this slave - THIS SLUT! - is grateful! Very grateful, Master!" Tears fell from her eyes as the beating continued well beyond the point where it was 'just a bit of role-play fun'.

Eventually, unable to hold himself in check any longer, Rob tossed the riding crop away and, dropping his shorts, thrust his throbbing erection deep into the cunt before him, turning Samantha's sobs of pain into grunts of raw, animal pleasure. Their mutual orgasm was greeted by a chorus of shouts and squeals as he emptied himself into her.

As Samantha gradually recovered, she realised that Rob had exited the bathroom, and had left her tied to the stand. She heard noises from some other part of the flat and wondered what he was doing, but all she could do was wait for him to release her. She was feeling so hot right at that moment. Fucked, tied up and spanked hard with a crop - what's not to like!

It was nearly an hour before Rob had finished and returned to untie his slave - would she return to just being his girlfriend, he wondered. Did he want her to? He was definitely enjoying being her Master - it hardly felt like he was role-playing anymore! He shook his head to clear his thoughts - it couldn't be his decision, he remembered, it had to come from her.

"Here, slave, I made you some dinner," he said as he led her into the kitchen. Samantha looked around, but there was nothing on any of the counters. It was only when she looked down that she saw the metal bowl - a dog dish, she noted, to go with her dog collar - on the floor. In it was what looked remarkably like dog food.

"Don't worry," Rob explained when he saw the startled expression on her face, "I'm not feeding you on dog food - not yet, anyway - it's just stew." She felt him pull her arms behind her back and tie her wrists together. At his prompting, she went down on her knees and bent over the bowl, trying to pick up the cubes of meat and vegetables without getting the rather glutinous, congealed gravy all over her face. It was only at this point that she realised the food was cold.

"Here you go," he said as he placed a second bowl, filled with water, next to her, "when you're finished, come through to the sitting room." He walked out, leaving her to eat her meal as best she could. It was rather disgusting, she thought, cold and pretty much tasteless - food fit for a slave!

As she slurped at the water, she heard the doorbell go again and wondered if she was expected to answer it like this, but she heard Rob opening the door.

"Pizza delivery!" she heard, and felt that her degradation was complete. Here she was, naked and bound, eating shit food out of a dog dish on the kitchen floor, while her boyfriend - her Master, she corrected herself - was having Dominos and a beer while relaxing and watching a movie! How sick am I to have brought this on myself, she thought. But, at the same time, she could feel the intensity of her arousal, and knew that she was exactly where she wanted to be.

"Get a cloth!" Rob exclaimed in disgust when he saw her face smeared with gravy. When she did so, he roughly wiped it clean and told her to kneel at his feet, facing towards him with her back to the TV. He took a swig of beer and another slice of pizza, ignoring her as he watched the film.

After a while, he seemed to bore of the plot, and unfastened his shorts, releasing his rampant member, stroking it absentmindedly. He took hold of Samantha's hair at the nape of her neck and dragged her forward towards him until she was between his spread thighs, then pushed her head down until she took his erection into her mouth. Sitting back and reaching for his beer, he let her work on him until he came in her mouth. When he was done, he pushed her away, as if discarding an unwanted toy.

When the film finished, Rob untied Samantha's wrists and unlocked her from the ballet boots. As she stretched her ankles for the first time in several hours, she realised just how stiff she had become, and she rubbed her sore toes and tense calf muscles to get some life back into them.

"Come on, slave," Rob said, "time for you to go to bed." Time for Me to go to bed, she wondered, don't we go to bed together? Sleep together? Rob led her to the box room which, she knew, wasn't big enough for a bed, even if he had one and, anyway, it was full of boxes!

"Here's where you'll be sleeping tonight," he said as he opened the door, revealing what he had been working on earlier. The small space had been cleared of boxes and now contained just one thing. To Samantha's astonishment, on the floor was a large, metal animal cage and, inside, a thin mattress. This must have been what was delivered earlier, she realised. She looked at Rob in disbelief - this is unreal! He's making me sleep in a cage?! No, I don't believe it! He wouldn't do this to me! … Would he?!

"Go on, get in there, slave!" he ordered peremptorily and, grabbing her arm, pushed her into the room and down to the floor. Totally gobsmacked, Samantha allowed herself to be pushed onto her hands and knees and, completely dazed by the surreal turn of events, crawled through the wire door into the cage.

It was smaller than it looked from outside and, once inside, she couldn't stand, or even sit without her head bumping against the top, and turning around was also very difficult in the confined space.

"Goodnight, slave," Rob said as he closed the door to the cage. Samantha watched as he passed a padlock through the ring protruding from the side and closed it, locking her inside. He straightened up and left the small room, switching off the light and closing the door behind him. There were no windows, and Samantha was suddenly plunged into total darkness.

"Goodnight… Master," she said to the darkness.