published the first part of a three part story called Be Careful What You Wish For. You can find it here; fav.me/daz5xf9It was quite a dark tale initially and by the end of part two Jenny admitted she was not sure where to go with it. I stuck my oar in and made a few suggestions. I even offered a possible ending that seemed to grab Jenny’s imagination as she ran with it. So by part three it was all wrapped up with a happy ending.
So me being me, I could not leave alone. I started wondering how things would go for the new couple…
I started writing things down…. Half way through what follows I showed Jenny what I had. Based on that, Jenny gave the idea a green light.
So I’ve called this Stephanie Part One but it could also be called Be Careful What You Wish For Part Four…
Stephanie was woken by the vibrating pad under her pillow. She woke quickly these days, no slow climb to consciousness. The pad was vibrating and she was almost instantly alert. This meant she was forced to wait for ten minutes for the cage door to open.
This morning she used that time to reflect on how much her life had changed over the last few years. She had been a librarian at the university. Her career going nowhere and her life in the doldrums too. Then on her thirty-second birthday she had had an epiphany. She had had a vision of herself at forty-two and nothing changed, or fifty-two for that matter. Eventually retiring a spinster to live her life out sad and alone.
So she had acted. Acted rashly as it turned out. She nearly got into some serious trouble. But serendipitously the man she threw herself at opened her eyes to another way of living.
At first she thought he was going to kill her, he certainly raped her. But while his prisoner she had her second epiphany. So when Mitch had made his offer she new what she had to do.
She had no regrets. Stephanie would be unrecognisable to her old self now, or her family and friends. She missed neither. The first Christmas Mitch had visited her parents with her. It was clear they disapproved. Disapproved of Mitch, his motorcycle and the changes already wrought upon their daughter. By that point the septum ring was in, along with some others her parents could not see. Her hair had been cut short, to fit under the bike helmet as well as a number of latex hoods Mitch liked to use on her.
He had allowed her reasonably conservative clothes, given it was her parents they were visiting. Leather jeans, a tight sweater and ankle boots with a conservative three inch stiletto heel. He’d locked the dress collar on, not the heavy steel one. The way they reacted he may as well have taken her in her usual latex and collar and leash.
It didn’t matter she was happy. It was of no consequence that Mitch was a successful businessman with his own auto shop. She was a disgrace and he was a bad influence. She’d not seen them or spoken to them since. Mitch had left a card, they knew where their daughter was. They’d made no attempt to contact her since.
Shortly after that Mitch had had her breasts enlarged. In hind sight she was not sure why. He’d loved her figure from the start. Plus he’d only enlarged them up to a d-cup. It was probably more because he could than because he wanted to. Once healed from the surgery other changes were made. He dyed her hair blonde. Nipple rings and a tongue stud were added to the septum piercing and the rings in her labia.
When he said he was going to get her tattooed she had expected ‘Property of Mitch’ on her backside. What she got was the word ‘slave’ across her mons.
She’d asked him if he had considered the former. “I’m not jinxing this, slave,” was the only reply he had given.
Life was now a reasonably predictable routine. It was not a rut, Mitch, or as she called him, Master, kept things fresh. But most mornings started the same; with her in her cage. The timer would activate the solenoid that would open the cage door ten minutes after the silent alarm woke her. Once free of the cage she was expected to exercise for half an hour. Master had installed a rowing machine and a treadmill in one corner of the workshop for her to do this. Then she consumed a meal supplement drink. Eating real food was a thing Master saved for special occasions or treats. A quick cleansing shower and then on to wake Master. There was no set way to do this but her favourite was to rouse him with a blow job.
From there things varied. She may be required to help him shower, or sent to cook breakfast for him while he washed. Or, sometimes, lay where she had been bound while he served himself.
After eating Master would work. If he required her to help she had some leather items she was required to wear in the workshop. In the summer that was a leather bra and skimpy shorts, in the winter a figure hugging leather catsuit. Always there was a steel collar about her throat. Customers were always discombobulated by Mitch’s glamorous apprentice. Dressed in leather, often smeared with oil and frequently kneeling at his feet.
After work she was required to cook. While he ate, if she had helped in the workshop, she did the domestic chores around the living quarters. Then a shower and dress as instructed. More often than not that was in latex. In really hot weather she was kept nude. If being taken somewhere vanilla, it was usually dressed in leather. Sex happened most evenings. It depended entirely on Masters mood and energy level what form that took. Stephanie, as his slave, did exactly as she was told.
Sometimes he’d let out his sadistic streak. If he was very brutal it could take days to recover. She had stopped dreading these beatings quite quickly. Coming to terms with the fact that she too almost welcomed them as a visceral masochistic and almost cathartic release. The pain was intense and the screams and tears very real. But at the hight of it she never felt more alive.
Other times the sex was selfish. He simply used her as a masturbation aide. Usually fucking her mouth while watching the television or porn on the net. Other times he took delight in tormenting her with pleasure. Intricate bondage, or latex enclosure, often combined with mechanical unending stimulation. Stephanie had lost count of the times she had both begged for an orgasm and then begged for them to stop.
She was a welcome feature at his favourite bar too. On those occasions he took her along the customers faces broke into huge grins. The owner was always happy too and Master drank for free on those nights.
The cage door opened and Stephanie started her morning routine. After exercising and her shower she crawled into Masters bedroom. He was on his back fast asleep, the duvet covering him from the waist down. However Stephanie stopped with a start when she realised Master was not alone in the bed, and the brunette was staring at her with a frown on her face.
“Who the fuck are you?” asked the woman loudly. Master stirred. Reflexively Stephanie assumed the kneeling position Master had taught her on her first day as his slave. Back on her heels, knees spread wide, back straight, hands clasped behind her head and her gaze fixed at a point in the floor equidistant between her knees.
Receiving no answer from Stephanie the woman shook Mitch awake.
“Mitch, who the fuck is the blonde in with a ring in her nose and the collar?”
A bleary eyed Mitch regarded his slave kneeling with perfect posture on his bedroom floor. He then turned to the woman in his bed. He looked at her a bit then hazarded a guess.
“Emily?” As he was not corrected he continued, “Emily, that is Stephanie, my slave.”
“Your fucking what!”
“My slave. Now that, I remember, I told you about last night. Colin told you I had a sex slave. You asked me if it was true. We had a few drinks. You clearly did not believe me. I offered to show her to you. You said okay.” Mitch thought some more. It was clear to Stephanie he was struggling to remember the whole night. “We got a taxi back and I went to fetch her, you stopped me saying you didn’t care. So we came up here to bed. We fucked. You were pretty good.” The last was delivered with a smile, but whether that was at the triumph of remembering or delight at the memory was unclear.
“I thought you were joking. Or going to pull out some inflatable doll. Not that you were really holding some poor woman prisoner.”
“Stephanie is not my prisoner. Well, actually she is. Or more accurately she’s in bondage, but she wants to be.”
“The fuck?” Emily was clearly not happy.
“Stephanie, introduce yourself to Emily will you. I need to piss.” Stephanie’s owner threw back the covers and padded off to the bathroom.
“Yes, Master,” acknowledged Stephanie to her Masters retreating form. “Hello Mistress Emily, I am Stephanie. I am indeed the slave of Mitch. I consider him to be my owner. I voluntarily became his slave about three years ago. He has kept me in bondage twenty-four seven since that day.”
“You’re serious?”
“Master does not allow me to tell lies, Mistress.”
“He’s kept you locked up here for three years?”
“Oh no, Mistress. Master frequently takes me out. I’m often offered to the customers of the bar as entertainment.”
“Jesus H Christ! He pimps you out?”
“No Mistress, he shares me with his friends.”
“You allow this?”
“I have no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice!”
“I feel I don’t. I must obey and please my Master.”
“Why?”
“Because he owns me, I am his slave.”
“It’s illegal, you’re not his slave. You can leave any time you want.”
“I don’t want to, Mistress.”
“Why not, this is criminal and insane?”
“Because I love my Master, Mistress, and I am happy to serve him as his slave.” Mitch chose this moment to return from the bathroom.
“I quite like you too, slave,” he ruffled her hair affectionately as he walked past her and climbed back into bed. “Go fetch me some paracetamol and a drink, I’m hung over.” Stephanie stood to obey. “Actually get some for Emily as well.” Turning to Emily he said, “I’m guessing you have a head too?”
Stephanie ran and retrieved the pills, along with two glasses of water. As she entered the bedroom again the two were in animated discussion.
“It’s consensual,” said Mitch taking a glass from his slave and passing it on to Emily. Stephanie assumed her position once Master took the pills and the second glass.
“It’s immoral.”
“How so?”
“Hello! Slavery!”
“You’re getting what we do confused with human trafficking.”
“You just said yourself there is no safe word.”
“So?”
“How can she withdraw consent?”
“She can’t she’s a fucking slave. Slaves don’t have consent, slaves are property. Look we’re not playing at this; we live it. All day, every day. She does exactly as she is told or I punish her. She eats, sleeps, pisses and shits when I say, how I say. I fuck her when and how I like. She fucks who I say when I say. All this and more was made clear to her before she committed to this.”
“If she can’t withdraw consent you’re raping her.”
“Christ! You’re just not listening. Slave, you’re a woman, can you make her understand?” Emily turned to Stephanie. Her expression clearly said, ‘Okay square this circle if you can’.
“Mistress have you ever had a rape fantasy?”
“Yes, but I never acted on it.”
“But if you wanted to how would you go about it?”
“I’d find a guy I trusted. I’d explain what I wanted. We’d act it out I suppose.” As an afterthought she hastily added, “There’d be a fucking safe word too.”
“Mistress with respect I have some problems with that. You’re acting it out, not experiencing it. As the instigator you’re actually in charge, not him. With the safe word he is operating with a Sword of Damocles over him, any control he has is an illusion. It’s not rape and it’ll never feel like it done that way.”
“Well that’s fine because I don’t ever really want to be raped.”
“But what if you did Mistress? What if you found out that when you’re really on the edge, that’s when you are most alive?
“I may as well have been dead before I met Master. The first evening I met him he chained me up and whipped me, beat me, fucked me and then locked me in a cage.
“The emotions I went through. On my third night with him he placed me in bondage and made me climax repeatedly until I didn’t want ever have another orgasm again. Then later he took me to the poshest restaurant on a leash and fed me on the floor from his plate while everyone watched.
“You’re looking at me aghast, but can you imagine the bravado, the courage, the bravery it would take to do that? The thrill of it. The Humiliation, and the shame. The excitement. I’m a slave but I’ve never been so free to be me. My Master understands me. I love my life now. I’m living now.
“Yes, there are lows, but there have to be for the peaks to be as high as they are. There have been times when I’ve been sore and alone in my cage, or frightened Master is really going too far this time. But I cannot stop him on those occasions. He does not listen to my begging or whining, which makes it real. I don’t have a shred of control and I don’t have to pretend.
I wouldn’t have it any other way. My life is now an amazing rollercoaster ride and I’m loving every second of it.”
Stephanie realised she may have said too much. Both Master and Emily were just staring at her. Eventually her Master broke the silence.
“That was quite a speech, Stephanie.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Stephanie, what were you doing before you met Mitch?” Asked Emily.
“I was working at the University campus Library.”
“You are educated?”
“I actually hold a doctorate in English literature, Mistress. I was better qualified than my boss.”
“So you had a life, even if it was a dull one. A home, a car, friends and family?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You walked away from it just like that?”
“Not just like that, Mistress. My friends clearly weren’t real as they made no effort to contact me. Quitting work was fun. I’m sad my parents could not accept my lifestyle choice. Master tried, but my parents are snobs. Master sold my possessions. I believe he has held a box of personal items back, he could toss it now for all I care. I was born the day he collared me.”
“Fuck, you’re in deep.” Emily turned to Mitch. “You recognise the responsibility you have here?”
“I do.”
“Tell me you love her.”
Mitch regarded his slave. Stephanie looked back at her owner and caught the slyest of winks.
“Of all my possessions I think I love my bike the most. But the slave comes pretty high on the list.”
“Oh no you didn’t just say that! You utter bastard.” Emily hit him with a pillow. Mitch quickly wrestled the indignant woman with playful shrieks and screams. Until he held her over himself, face up.
“Slave,” he commanded, “get over here a put that tongue to use. Show this woman why I keep you collared.”
“Yes, Master,” answered Stephanie climbing onto the bed. She had never pleasured a woman, but she was not going to let a little detail like that stop her. Not when she knew what Master would do if she even hesitated to follow an order.
Master had been delighted with her oral skills from day one and she was determined that Emily should be equally impressed. Quickly climbing onto the bed between the woman’s legs she surveyed the task at hand. Emily had a pretty pussy, shaved bar a small tidy patch of pubic hair that ended just above the start of the lips. There was a small ring set in her clitoral hood and at the moment the inner lips were just separating, as Master spread her legs wider by hooking his feet under her ankles. Master’s erection was standing up from underneath and if he were to allow Emily to sit up she could easily impale herself.
Leaning in Stephanie gave her Masters cock a quick lick running the bead of the stud in her tongue up between the centre of his glands. Continuing the motion she ran the tip of her tongue along the outer edge of Emily’s inner lips. She then placed her hands gently on Emily’s inner thighs and proceeded to deliver a number of long slow licks around her outer lips taking care to steer clear of both the hood and the clitoris below. Stephanie then pressed in close and delved deep pushing her tongue in. The taste was not unpleasant and after a quick circular swirl the slave girl brought her tongue up to attack Emily’s clit. It was now swollen and pertly pushing from under the hood. Stephanie swirled it around with her tongue before taking the ring in the hood between her teeth and gently tugging.
Stealing a glance up she saw that Emily was now distracted by Master as they both kissed each other deeply. Master still holding her arms by the wrists kept the writhing woman in place.
Stephanie delivered a rapid number of short stabbing licks to Emily’s clit before pursing it between her lips to reward it with a long slow suck.
As she did this she gently inserted two fingers into the moist warm embrace of Emily’s vagina. Fingers coated with Emily’s juices the slave girl then slowly inserted, first one, and then the second finger into Emily’s anus. Stephanie then slipped her thumb into Emily’s dripping cunt and squeezed firmly onto the fingers buried in the rectum below. Pushing down with her hand she pinned the woman against her Master’s belly and renewed her assault on the pussy with her tongue.
Furious attention with rapid darting licks to the clit had Emily bucking and writhing as Mitch and his slave held her down. Eventually it was all too much for the captive and the struggling was replaced with a full body tremor as Emily fell into a long rolling climax.
“Me now,” curtly ordered Mitch to his slave girl. Stephanie leaving her hand gripping Emily instantly engulfed her Masters cock in her mouth. Driving her head down onto his shaft and deep throating him as her nose brushed his scrotum. Holding her breath she held him in her throat and ran her tongue, and the stud Master had had set there, up and down the shaft that filled her mouth, before lifting slightly to run the head of the stud around the rim of the hemet. She then set up a steady rhythm, pumping her owners shaft deep into her throat, while caressing his member with her tongue. It was all that was necessary to trigger her highly aroused owner and Stephanie felt him fire his seed directly down her throat.
Her Master sated, the slave sat up. Still holding Emily she returned her tongue to tormenting the woman that was only now coming down from the earlier powerful orgasm.
Emily’s hands, free from Mitch’s grasp, grip Stephanie's short locks and pull her up so she directs her tongue at Emily’s clit once more. Submissive to the core, and trained by her owner to obey without question, the slave did not resist but raised her game with swirling, flicking licks at a faster and faster pace. In short order Emily is writhing once more in the grip of pure ecstasy.
Mitch allows the woman to slide off of him back onto the mattress. He regards the woman lost in the temporary delirium of joy and smirks.
“Slave, fetch me a collar for this slut,” he orders. Stephanie ran to the draw Master kept the bondage gear in.
Not naming the collar to fetch presented Stephanie with a tiny dilemma. Master did not actually own many collars. With the heavy steel one occupying her throat nearly ninety-nine per cent of the time, and the dress collar the remaining one per cent, he did not need any. Unless ordered to she was not giving Master the dress collar to lock around Emily’s throat. However there were three leather ones.
One was nearly nothing more than a choker. A single strap of half inch black leather. A small ring hung from the front and a lockable roller buckle for a closure.
The second was thicker and more secure. A three inch wide strap of red leather with a soft lamb skin inner. Two black half inch straps around the outside to tighten and secure it in place.
The third was a sculpted five inch tall posture collar in black patent leather. It took two padlocks at the back to secure it in place.
Resisting the urge to be malicious, that was Master’s role, Stephanie took the red collar and a couple of open padlocks from the draw. Scooting over to her Master she knelt and offered up her choice. He took it almost without looking, his attention fixed on Emily.
Emily, recovered, looked warily at the leather in his hand.
“Is that for me?” She asked.
“After my slave’s speech, and your performance there I thought I’d make you an offer,” responded Mitch.
“Go on,” encouraged Emily.
“First; do you have any immediate plans? Places you have to be? People who are expecting you to be somewhere? Answer honestly, you are quite safe.”
“You have quite a few gaps from last night don’t you? If you could remember you’d know. I was getting sloshed last night coz I got fired from my job Yesterday. So no, I have no commitments. Though if I don’t land a new job soon I’m going to be homeless. Rent will be due at the end of this month. If I don’t eat I can cover it, otherwise I’m up shit street.”
“Perfect! Then I offer you the chance to live a little. Walk a short way in Stephanie’s shoes. Find out first hand what it is really like to be a slave.”
“No safe word?”
“No safe word, no limits, no promises. I am a sadist. I will hurt you. I will fuck you. I will humiliate you. You will have no control. You will suffer. You will have to endure. You will be made to obey.”
“How does Stephanie feel about this?”
“Who cares, she is my slave. She obey’s and fucks who I say. I’ve fucked other women before, and will again. She is property. Her feelings are immaterial.” As her Master said these words Stephanie could see Emily struggle to believe them. She wondered how it would effect her if she knew the slave girl wanted her to take the offer, or that she agreed with her Master and was not stung by his words.
“How long for?”
“It’s two weeks until the end of the month. Stay here as my slave. That way you’ll have some money for your rent, and another whole month to find a job.”
“Do I have to decide right now?” Mitch thought on this.
“Yes, I think so. You could overthink this. Yes or no? Are you interested or not?” Emily stared at Mitch and then Stephanie. Stephanie stared back. There was something furtive almost panicky about Emily. Clearly at war with herself. Then a calm seemed to settle over her.
“Yes, I’ll do it.”
Mitch bent down and buckled the collar snug around the girls throat.
“Not so tight,” protested Emily. Reaching up with a hand to loosen the device. Mitch delivered a back handed swat to the face that sent Emily sprawling on the bed.
“Speak out of turn again like that and I’ll devote half a day to causing you nothing but pain.” He turned to Stephanie. “Locks.” Stephanie handed over the two she had ready.
Mitch bent down to the stunned woman. Cruelly he tightened the collar one more hole before locking the buckles.
“You will not talk unless spoken to. You will address me as Master. Stephanie out ranks you. You will call her Mistress. She will call you slave. I’ll call you whatever I like. Do you understand?”
Emily looked up in horror at Mitch. Writ large across her face it was clear she was already regretting her choice.
“Ye-Yes, M-Master,” she stuttered. Shocked that the euphoria of an orgasm could so swiftly be dispelled with violence.
"Stephanie, armbinder, now.”
"Yes, Master." Stephanie leapt to fetch the item and returned so fast it seemed neither Emily or Master had moved.
"Off the bed and stand with your arms behind you Emily." Dazed Emily wordlessly complied with her new Master's order. Stephanie at a nodded signal from her Master slid the armbinder up Emily's arms and started strapping the item in place. Once Emily felt her elbows being painfully forced together she seemed to snap out of the torpor the first blow had induced.
"Okay," she started, "big mistake, can we..." An open handed slap across her face silenced her.
"You do not speak without permission, slave." Mitch hooked a finger through the ring on her collar and pulled her face to his. "Are you stupid slave?”
"No, Master. Sorry, Master. Permission to speak, Master?" Tears were flowing now and her cheeks were glowing from the abuse received.
"Go on," Mitch allowed.
"Master, I'm sorry I made a mistake. I no longer wish to be a slave. Before this goes any further could you release me please?”
"No, why on earth would I want to do that? The time you are to serve was agreed. How could you be expected to learn anything if you falter before you have dipped a toe in the water?”
"Master," Stephanie interjected,” she is laced closed." Mitch frowned.
"Fully? Elbows touching?”
"Yes, Master.”
Addressing Emily he asked, "You've worn one of these before?”
"Yes, Master," replied Emily, "I've never 'life styled' but I've enjoyed quite a bit of bondage play in the past.”
"You've been whipped before?”
"Yes, Master.”
"Hence you knowing about safe words and such… Well, you are about to get a crash course in the differences between the role play games you've played in the past and the reality of my collar." Mitch turned to Stephanie. "Shave her cunt clean, and then cut her hair short. Once you've done that put her in your cage. Corset, leather catsuit and work boots for you. Join me in the workshop once you're done.”
"Yes, Master," acknowledged Stephanie.
"Permission to speak," squeaked Emily.
"What now cunt?”
"Please don't ruin my hair, Master. I need to look presentable for job interviews in the near future.”
"Don't panic slave, Stephanie is quite the accomplished hair dresser. She'll do a good job. However..." He turned once more to the senior slave. "If she is less than fully cooperative give her a crew cut. If you get any lip or she struggles or fights back then shave the cow bald.”
"I understand, Master," said Stephanie.
Stephanie hooked a finger in Emily’s collar and led her from the bedroom into the bathroom. Breaking out a razor it took no time to shave the small patch of pubic hair away. Stephanie then looked at Emily’s long flowing hair. It nearly reached the small of her back. This was going to be an emotional wrench.
“Follow me, slave,” she ordered.
“Yes, Mistress,” replied Emily, to Stephanie’s satisfaction. Stephanie led Emily downstairs to the chilly workshop floor. Sleeping and living down here naked Stephanie ignored the chill on her bare skin. Emily shyly followed her nipples standing pertly in the chilly air.
When they reached the workbench Stephanie had Emily sit on the high padded stool. Instructing her to stay she trotted off to fetch the clippers and scissors with which she cut her Masters hair.
She knew while she completed this task Master would be going through and stowing Emily’s possessions in the bedroom. She admired Emily’s courage, it had taken Stephanie the treat of a vicious beating to accept her Masters collar first time. Stephanie also wondered where this was leading. She had not one jealous bone in her body. Master had brought women home in the past, and would undoubtedly do so again. All to date had run screaming, once to the police, on encountering Stephanie. The police had visited. Stephanie had assured them, away from her Master in the back of a police car to two female police officers, that she was not a prisoner and was happy and deeply in love with Mitch her boyfriend.
So Emily was different. Emily was pretty too. Similar in build to Stephanie, her breasts were naturally the same size as Stephanie’s fake tits. Her skin was a dark coffee colour and with large dark brown eyes and a softer less bookish face than Stephanie.
“Returning with her equipment she plugged in the clippers and rotated the waiting Emily on the stool so she was stood behind the seated girl.”
“You’re not going to give me any trouble are you, slave?” Stephanie asked.
“No, Mistress. I’m just scared I’ve made a huge mistake.”
“I understand. I may be the only person that does. But I cannot tell you if you have or not.”
“Are you really going to cut my hair short, Mistress? It’ll take years to get this long again.”
As an answer Stephanie pulled Emily’s hair into a quick ponytail and then with the scissors cut it off.
“Sorry slave, ’fraid so,” she quipped. Dropping the ponytail in Emily’s lap.
“Oh! ‘kay, I understand. You’re angry at me.”
“No, slave, I am not. I am doing what our Master ordered me to. To do anything else would be stupid. I doubt you will believe me but I’m actually delighted you have accepted his collar too.”
“You are not jealous, Mistress?”
“Jealous of what?”
“Of me, fucking your boyfriend.”
“Christ it still has not sunk in. Emily I really, really, really am Masters slave. I do love him. I know he loves me. But we work as Master and slave. He owns me. I am his property. We don’t play at this, there are no time outs. This collar has not been removed from my neck in over a year. When it was last off there was another different collar in its place.
“I know what you said to Master earlier. I don’t care. He can do as he pleases with me. I have no say in what he does. For the next two weeks that applies to you too.
“You are not the first Master has brought home. I doubt you’ll be the last either. You are the first since me to be offered a collar. I’m kinda hoping you become a permanent fixture here, like me.”
“Oh God fuck no! Why?”
“Well ‘cause I’m a little bit lonely I guess.”
“Lonely, Mistress?”
“I love my Master dearly. I have no complaints about how he treats me. I would never want to leave him and I’m so fucking proud to wear his collar. But no one ‘gets’ us. No one relates. To have a sister slave… Oh fuck, I can’t tell you how wonderful that would be. To share the joy of being his, of being owned, of being a real slave. Someone who empathises the pure joy I get when he say’s ‘Good Girl’ or who would understand my grief if I let him down. I know he understands that. I think that is why you’re collared right now. He takes care of me.”
“I’m to be a plaything for you?” Asked Emily as Stephanie started the job of styling Emily’s hair.
“No, you Muppet. Listen to what I’m saying to you. A sister slave; the same as me.”
“But I like my life. Okay it’s going through a rocky patch. I’m out of work and short on cash. But that’s no reason to jump out of the rat race and into a life of slavery.”
“Then I only hope you learn something from these two weeks, and remain friends with my Master and me.” Emily had no answer to that and Stephanie worked in silence on the new slave’s hair. She knew her Master preferred short hair as it made buckling gags and hoods on so much easier. Emily had a feminine face and so Stephanie felt she could carry off a short back and sides, cutting well above the ear and shaving her with the clippers up the back. Emily sat there quietly, the odd tear falling down her face, clearly devastated to have been parted from her hair.
When Stephanie was happy she had the new girl stand. It was clear that Emily was very unhappy with the amount of hair on the floor.
“Permission to speak, Mistress.”
“If Master is not around you can speak to me freely, slave. Just remember to call me ‘Mistress’ as Master ordered, in case he over hears.”
“Thank you, Mistress. Can I use a mirror please.”
“Sorry slave, from here it’s straight to the cage. No mirrors on the way. Trust me you look beautiful and feminine. I’ve not butchered you.” Stephanie smiled at the clearly troubled woman.
“Come on, you get a quiet lie down now, while I get to run around after Master.”
"Are you taking this armbinder off, Mistress?”
"Sorry, no, Master did not give me instructions to do so.” Stephanie hooked a finger in the ring of Emily’s collar and led her to the cage. She continued, “as I said I have spent three years locked in this collar. Master is very strict. I have learned it is very good to be obedient. Certainly it is a lot less painful anyway.”
Reaching the cage Stephanie indicated to Emily that she should drop down and crawl in.
“Really, Mistress?” asked Emily. “You’re locking me in a cage like an animal?”
“No, slave. I’m locking you in a cage like a slave girl. It’s actually my cage. I sleep here most nights. Personally I love being in there, it’s the only space I consider being mine. I feel, safe, protected and wanted within.
“Hmm, do you know any Lovelace, Emily? There’s an often quoted line, ‘Stone walls do not a prison make, or iron bars a cage’. I find it apt that I am kept in bondage but in my love for my Master am utterly free. That steel cage is my sanctuary or in the poem my hermitage.
“Anyway, enough jabber, in you get, or we are both in trouble.”
Emily took one knee then dropped to the other. Ducking her head down she shuffled forward onto the padded mat within. Once in she rolled onto her side and looked up at Stephanie.
“Mistress are you leaving me alone in here? Is it safe?” Emily slammed the cage door shut.
“Yes, slave I am. The latch is electrical. There is a bolt that is pulled out by an electro magnet. Three things can open the cage; Masters phone, the timer that will next do so tomorrow morning or the fire alarm. So it will let you out if there is any danger.
“Now you rest here while I get dressed as per Masters orders.”
Stephanie turned away and opened her wardrobe. It was almost exclusively leather and latex within. There was the backless dress Master had taken her out in a few times, as well as a silk electric blue cheongsam Master had dressed her in to take her to a dinner with a bike dealer customer. That night she had been the entertainment and Masters reward was the overflow servicing trade from the Harley dealers.
Stephanie took out the leather catsuit master had instructed her to wear along with a pair of latex briefs and a latex corset. Master had not listed the briefs but they were a standing order now. The dry cleaning bill for the leatherwear had been getting ridiculous with Stephanie so easily aroused by her owner.
First Stephanie wrapped the rubber corset around her waist, and fastened the busk at the front. Then with practiced tugs pulled the laces until she had the device as tight as she could manage on her own. It could go tighter, and Stephanie would actually have liked it laced fully closed. She had become quite the fan of tight lacing over the past three years. However that would take an extra pair of hands and would actually spoil the fit of the catsuit.
The catsuit was custom made. Made from cow hide it was as robust as a bike racers one piece set. But is was tailored to show off her curves, cleavage and grant access to her privates without being removed. The added benefit of the latter was she could use the toilet without getting undressed too. The gusset of the rubber knickers pulled to one side quite easily.
Finally she put on the boots. Ideally Stephanie would like to put them on before the corset, but they had to go on after the catsuit. Her work boots were plain leather army boots. Not in the slightest bit kinky with the exception that Stephanie had put hours into polishing them. The regular army recruit would be expected to keep the toes mirror bright. With no prompting from her Master Stephanie had resolved that she would achieve the same finish over the whole boot.
Dressed as per Masters orders Stephanie quickly scooted over to the bench and swept up the mess of Emily’s hair. Once the bench was ready for work, she crossed over to her Master who was now striping down a customers bike.
He turned to her as she approached and asked, “Emily in the cage?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Okay, grab your helmet and get your bike out the front.”
“Yes, Master!” The day was getting better and better. Outings on the bike Master had built for her were rare.
Unlike the American V twins Master specialised in Stephanie’s bike was Japanese. Master had built the bike with Stephanie in mind. The seat was low and the air cooled four cylinder engine light compared to the hulking power plants in the customers bikes. Having pushed it outside she donned her helmet and gloves and stood patently next to the machine awaiting her owner.
Master duly appeared and after putting his own helmet on mounted the bike. Stephanie climbed on behind and wrapped her arms around her Master. She loved riding pillion almost as much as riding on her own. For it gave her an excuse to give the man she loved with all her heart one huge hug.
Master set off to the bar and they soon arrived next to Master's bike in the now nearly empty car park. As soon as he stopped the machine the slave hopped off, so her Master could dismount. Before her Master could set off on his own machine Stephanie decided to ask her Master a favour.
"Permission to speak, Master?”
"Of course girl, I've been waiting for you to ask.”
"Can we keep her please, Master?”
"So no jealousy then girl?”
"No, Master. You know how I feel about that.”
"Stephanie, we've talked about me fucking other women. I know you see this as I do. But knowing intellectually that you are property and that you have no say, does not mean you don't or won't get jealous.”
"Well, Master, so far I can report I only feel lust towards Emily. Plus a keen hope that you keep her in bondage along side me.”
"Are you looking to have fun topping her?”
"No, Master, I'm hoping to have some company in my collar. A girlfriend who gets me. I don't ever want to be anything to you but your slave. But the idea of someone to share my bondage with…"
"You realise we are talking about a person not a fantasy here Stephanie? You are a pretty special girl, one in a million really. The chances of her seeing our lifestyle as something desirable is pretty slim.”
"Master, I just had to ask, so you would know. I know you will do what's best, but you can only act with the info you have. So, no jealousy, lots of lust and a dream that I can share the joy I have discovered being a slave.”
“That’s okay, I’m secure enough that I don’t fret about you topping from the bottom, girl. So you want this particular girl or would any one do? Also how bad do you want this?”
“Master I had not put that much thought into it. I’ve been aware of being lonely quite often. Mostly when you have been punishing me though, so that was sort of apt. When you offered Emily the collar I knew then I really wanted her to say yes. It sort of crystallised things. I suppose any girl would do, but this is the first opportunity in the three years you have owned me. As to how bad… You control me Master. I want lots of things; steak dinners, orgasms, sexy clothes and your dick buried in me. Just add it to the list. You decide if I get it just as you decide everything else.”
“Don’t evade the question girl, I know I am in control, I asked you to quantify your desire. One to ten, how much do you want Emily to serve next to you?”
“One thousand, Master.”
“Glad to hear it, me too. I struck gold with you, I cannot believe I’m getting a chance to win the lottery twice. I was going to send you straight home.. but you can accompany me on a fact finding mission instead. Let’s see… its eight thirty now, that gives us an hour or so before we need to be back to open up the garage. Follow me slave.”
So saying Mitch mounted his bike and set off out of the car park, Stephanie followed her Master on her own bike. This was one of the best bits of belonging to Master. She had initially been shocked when he had shown her the bike, with it’s modified frame, and been told she was going to learn to ride it.
She loved riding pillion with her Master, hugging her man and feeling his muscular torso under his own leathers. But riding behind him made her feel proud, trusted and loved. It had never occurred to her that as a slave she would have such independence, or how proud she would feel that her owner trusted her so much.
She also quietly got a kick out the reactions of the public to the sight of her. Dressed like a comic book super hero in tight leather riding around town on a custom motorbike. Even better was the reactions she got to the collar around her throat and the ring in her nose, especially from men. Sometimes the guys didn’t know whether to drool or run. Not bad for a thirty-five year old slave.
Master soon led them to the poorer side of town and then pulled up outside a large house. Once an affluent area all the houses had been converted into bed sits and student accommodation. Most of the houses had their front gardens turned to hard standing, and numerous doorbell buttons clustered at each door.
Master dismounted and led Stephanie up to the door of the nearest house. Unlike so many others in the area there were only two doorbells on the door frame. Master produced a set of keys, obviously Emily’s, and picked out what looked like the front door key. This was not the case so he moved on to the next likely contender. Just as the door opened with the key it was pulled in by someone on the other side.
“Hello? Who are you?” Asked a mature woman, Stephanie guessed in her fifties, as the door opened full.
“Oh, Hi, we’re friends of Emily. She’s going to be away for a few weeks and she asked us to stop by and water her plants and stuff,” lied Mitch smoothly.
“Away? What about my rent? It’s due in two weeks.”
“She gave me some money and asked me to pay that too. I was going to contact you nearer the due date… but I could pay you now if you like?”
“You’ll pay early?”
“Yes.” Mitch turned to his slave and handed her Emily’s keys. “Here you go into Emily’s and start watering the plants, while I sort out the rent with…?”
“June dear, call me June,” supplied the woman.
“Okay, M…Mitch,” Stephanie stuttered, instinctively knowing this was not the time to call Master, Master, and covering her error with his actual name. Internally she panicked. That was the first time she had ever addressed her owner as anything other than Master. She was allowed to tell others his name, but forbidden from using it herself. If she’d had her wits about her she’d have called Master ‘Boss’ as she did in front of vanilla customers at the shop. Doubtless Master would punish her later.
Crossing the vestibule that was inside the outside door Stephanie hid her embarrassment at her foolish error by concentrating on the keys she now held. Selecting the key Master had first time Stephanie was rewarded with it opening the inner door to Emily’s flat. Before she stepped through though she spotted a pile of letters on a small table. Seeing they were addressed to Emily she picked them up and took them in with her. Standing inside she could hear her owner’s side of the conversation as he ascended the stairs, but not June’s.
“Yes that’s right; Mitch. Mitch Chambers. I own a bike garage on the South side of town…. The young lady is called Stephanie, she’s my partner… No, June, not business partner. Life partner…No, we’re not married. Neither of us feel that would improve our relationship…Oh we both know Emily, met at the same bar some time back…Yes, Texas…It is indeed but I like it here.” Master’s voice faded as he climbed.
Master out of earshot Stephanie put the door on the latch so he could enter when he had finished upstairs. She then looked at the mail she picked up. Figuring they were probably in trouble already she started opening it. The first was Emily’s P45 as well as a letter of dismissal. It seemed Emily was constantly late or plain failed to turn up for work. They sounded pretty pissed. There was going to be no severance pay or future references.
The other letters were junk mail and a bank statement. Emily was not rich. If she thought she had enough to cover rent she had intended to go overdrawn with the bank to do so.
Stephanie explored the rest of the flat. There was a living room, and office with quite a nice large Mac computer on the desk. There was a kitchen, and a bathroom, but no bedroom. Puzzled Stephanie returned to the living room, to see if either of the two sofas converted into a bed. But neither did.
Master then entered the flat and barked, “Position.” As he closed the door behind him. Stephanie dropped to her knees unthinking. Assuming the pose her Master had ordered. He strode into the room and up to his slave.
“Mitch?” He asked.
“Sorry Master, I forgot myself and with the ‘m’ out already I thought I would sound disingenuous if I changed it on the fly.”
“I see. Well an honest mistake, but you’ll still be punished later. You stick your hand in fire you get burned. You use my name you get flogged. We’ll make use of it to educate your sister slave when we get back.”
“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”
“So you’ve had a look around. What have you found?”
“Master I cannot find a bedroom. Also Emily is poor, but has a very expensive computer. Oh, and she lost her job, because she is rubbish at time keeping.”
“You opened her mail?”
“Master we’ve already gained entry without permission.”
“Hmm, well I know where the bedroom is.”
“Master?”
“Where’s the kitchen?”
“That way, Master,” Stephanie pointed towards the back of the flat.
“Follow.” Stephanie stood and followed her owner into the kitchen. She watched as he looked around and then backed out into the corridor to the front of the flat. There was a door in the cupboard under the stairs that led up to upstairs of the building and the flat above. “Here we are,” he declared and opened the door and stepped in.
Cautiously, in case she found her Master stooped in the under stairs cupboard Stephanie stuck her head in the doorway. There was a flight of stairs leading down. Her owner was nearly at the bottom. Stephanie followed and found herself in a room nearly the size of the flat above.
“I baulked a bit at the rent,” Master informed. “June pointed out it was for both floors; the ground and the basement.”
“Wow, Master.”
“Yes girl, that about sums it up. This is one swanky pad. So what do you think of all this, slave?”
Along with a huge floor span the room was decorated as a fetishist wet dream. The bed was a four poster though the timber used was at least four inches square and solid. Large chrome rings hung all over the ash black timber and were nearly out shone by the black satin bedsheets.
There was a large padded St. Anderws cross, a spanking horse and an old fashioned dentist chair. Behind large half opened mirrored wardrobe doors there was a huge collection of latex clothing and leather harnesses, cuffs and restraints.
“Master, do you think Emily is a pro?”
“No slave look closely. Look at this armbinder, for instance. Instead of the usual laces it has a steel rope on little rollers. Pull here at the top and it closes real easy. Look there too, there is an electric winch on the floor. Also over by the bedside, there is a time operated safe. I think Emily is a self bondage enthusiast. My guess is she plays self bondage games on her own. I think the flexibility you discovered lacing her into our armbinder comes from escaping self bondage games.”
“People do that? So where does that leave us with her, Master?”
“I forget you came from nearly vanilla straight into my collar. Hmm, where it leaves us is wise to her lies, and with more time to play with than she knows. I think we will proceed as if we intend to keep her regardless. We’ll wait until the third or fourth week when she has come to terms with her collar, perhaps even accepted it may be for life, before asking her to voluntarily commit for real.”
“Do you think she will, Master?”
“If I put her in the cage with you at every opportunity I want you to fuck her. I’ll be strict, and she will see my sadistic side. Ultimately we are not being honest if she does not see how she’ll be treated. But we’ll fuck her lots too. It will provide insight for her when we reveal she does really have a choice.”
“Master, you plan on tricking her into believing we’re planning on keeping her?”
“A little white lie so she experience what your collar really means to you. It’s cost me a months rent and even if she says no it’ll not damage her life in any major way. So the easiest thing to do is start modding her the same way I have you, straight away. She agreed to no limits. Let’s take her at her word.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Also I have an idea for a collar I think you may like.”
“Master you know I like collars.”
“Yes, but this'll be the ultimate collar for a self bondage freak like Emily, one that does not lock.”
Stephanie was then sent up to really water the few house plants and draw back the curtains. She had just finished when her Master returned from the basement with a duffle bag that seemed quite full. He ushered her out to their bikes and she duly followed her owner home after a quick detour to a supermarket.
On arriving back at the garage Stephanie was sent to the cage with simple instructions. Emily was waiting on her knees but still in the cage, even though the door had swung open after Master released it via his phone.
“Come on out slave, there are things need doing,” instructed Stephanie.
Emily shuffled out on her knees. Once stood up Stephanie led the new slave out to the workshop floor where their Master was waiting, a vicious looking cane in his hands. At the sight of the cane Emily’s eyes went round with fear, and a whimper escaped her lips.
Mitch took the new girl off his slave and quickly hooked the roof hoist into the ring in her armbinder. A quick press of the control box and Emily’s arms were pulled up behind her, forcing her to bend down at the waist. Mitch then pinched her cheeks, as her jaw opened he inserted the ball of a panel gag in her mouth. Deftly wrapping and buckling the gag’s straps in place he then produced an anal hook and after brusquely inserting it in Emily’s bum to the sound of a surprised squeal, he attached it to the back of the gag with a light chain. Thus holding the girls head up and facing forward.
“Emily, your sister in slavery has broken one of my standing rules, earning her a punishment,” stated Mitch. "In the past this has called on me to exert some self control. As the act of punishing Stephanie arouses me. But I cannot follow up a thrashing with a fuck as that would be counter productive in her discipline. You though afford me the luxury of reinforcing her punishment while relieving my arousal.”
Mitch turned to Stephanie, “Strip slave.” Stephanie unzipped and peeled off the catsuit. Once off she quickly removed the latex knickers too.
“Assume the position, in front of your sister, so she can get a good view of what disobedience is rewarded with.”
Stephanie stood in front of Emily. She then turned side on and bent over grasping her ankles firmly. Emily’s eyes bugged out again as she realised she was about to watch Stephanie be beaten while her face was mere inches from her backside.
“Emily,” said Mitch taking up position, “if you close your eyes or try to look away I will restart the whole proceeding. Stephanie, pick a number.”
“Fifteen, Master,” answered Stephanie.
“Well done, girl. I was thinking twelve. Fifteen it is.” With no more preamble Mitch delivered a vicious stroke across Stephanie’s backside.
The girl screamed in pain but hard on the heels of the involuntary exclamation Stephanie shouted out, “One. Thank you, Master. May I have the next?”
Emily looked on aghast as Mitch delivered the second blow just as forcefully as the first. The welts appearing on Stephanie’s bum were a vivid deep red. Stephanie screamed and counted. Each blow being requested straight after. After the fifth blow Stephanie started sobbing, huge tears dropping from her inverted face. But still she stoically kept up the count.
Her backside quickly became a red mess of crossing welts. At some intersections blood began to well up. Emily was horrified at the savagery of the beating. Around the tenth stroke Emily tore her gaze away from Stephanie’s backside and looked up at Mitch. His face was stoney, no emotion showed, as he whipped the woman that worshiped him.
Finally Stephanie cried out, “Fifteen! Thank you for my punishment, Master.”
Mitch wordlessly dropped the cane and walked around behind Emily. The sound of his fly opening was immediately followed by him forcefully taking Emily. Emily grunted in pain as he grasped her hips and continued to pump violently. Being taken this way, being objectified as nothing but relief for his erection. While the subject, and cause, of his arousal continued to sob in pain before them both. It horrified and aroused her.
“Your sister enjoyed that Stephanie.” Shouted Mitch as he pounded into Emily. “She’s sopping wet at the sight of you being beaten. Quite a nice fuck actually. Quite tight and obviously really aroused.”
Stephanie held her position as Mitch continued to fuck the bound Emily. Emily was mortified to be described in such a way by her new Master. What would Stephanie think of her now? There was a grunt from Mitch and she could tell that he had finished with her. He stepped back and she heard him close his fly.
“Stephanie, clean this mess up, gimp the new girl in latex then put her back in the cage. Put your catsuit back on and start on the engine on the bench.” Mitch walked off to the other side of the workshop.