Jennifer tried to move. A pointless act. Futile. He’d described this as a treat. He’d been quite smug.

“I know you like being forced Jenny. So you’re going to love this.”

Those had been his last words to her after hours of preparation.

She had awoken in bondage. Always a nice surprise, especially on her birthday. It was just a pair of handcuffs but they were always a great start.

Once she’d woken properly, and checked the bedside table for the keys, she had sat up and called out. He had popped his head in the room at that.

“Great you are awake love. Big day today, huge treat for you. You’re going to love this.”

In the bathroom the enema kit was hung up ready. He had been gentle but very domineering.

“I need you empty inside for the day ahead. Don’t need toilet breaks getting in the way. Real mood killer.”

The warm soapy mixture had been flushed through her system. Her bowls emptied. Three times over. Then plugged with a new butt plug. It was very large and a thin wire suspiciously trailed from it.

Into the play room and her next treat waited on the bench. A vacuum bed. He had enthused over it as he explained its features.

“The bottom membrane is extra thick to keep you still. The outer tubes are steel too so they don't flex. There’s a one way valve too so once the vacuum is drawn I can turn off the pump. There’s even airtight grommets near the edges so I can keep you connected to electrical toys or even plumbing.”

But she wasn’t getting straight in. There were more preparations first.

The catsuit was not a surprise. But this one was new too. A neck entry affair custom made in Germany. It was hard work getting it on but worth it in the end. There were electrical spade connectors near each nipple. The handcuffs had been removed, but Hell, there was stricter bondage looming and now she was dressed for pleasure.

Earbud headphones were popped in before a latex hood was placed over her head. Nothing new or remarkable. Black glossy rubber. Tight with holes for her mouth and eyes plus two stubby tubes in her nostrils.

Next a new heavy rubber straight jacket. Its embrace had been overpowering. Her arms held wrapped around her. Its stiff collar buckled tight about her throat the sound of padlocks clicking shut.

Passively she had watched as he laced her feet into ballet boots. Her feet now held en point in their inflexible restraint.

Then he had unzipped the crotch. First he had slid home a new huge black rubber dildo. It too had an electrical cable trailing from its base. He’d gathered the cable and the one from her rear and draped them over her glossy latex thigh.

A catheter tube was produced.

“Really don’t want toilet breaks messing this up, love.”

Once inserted her urine flowed to the waiting bag.

A butterfly vibrator was placed over her clit. It’s electrical lead joined the others and the zip was closed with just the tube and the wires emerging.

He lifted her then and placed her between the latex sheets of the bed. Her head had been pushed through an opening, barely big enough in the top sheet. A latex neck seal like those on divers dry suits squeezed her neck tightly.

A posture collar was produced.

“Just to keep your head still,” he’d explained. He had done it up very tight.

More wires were produced and connected to the nipples of the catsuit. After threading the wires and tube through the grommets he had turned on the pump. The top sheet of latex had been drawn down in a vice like embrace. An experimental wiggle had confirmed, she could not move at all.

His face had appeared over her’s. A loving lingering kiss. Then a clear plastic tube was inserted up one of the nostril tubes.

“It’s a feeding tube Jenny. Swallow when it gets to the back of your throat.”

Helpless to stop it she had obeyed as the thing, once painfully through her nose, started making her gag.

He held up some sort of gas mask for her to see.

“This is the best bit,” he enthused. “The eye lenses have been replaced with a virtual reality headset. The feeding tube runs through it here and these ports attach to the rebreather. It’ll monitor your carbon dioxide levels and keep you just on the edge so to speak.”

He had connected the wires that emerged from the bed.

“I’m not gagging you. But I am placing you in the hands of this cold impersonal computer. There is a microphone in the gas mask. The computer will be educating you. You’ll be expected to give responses. I’ll admit the voice recognition software is about as good as those dictating programs. So enunciate clearly. If you don’t or you make a noise it is not expecting you’ll be punished. Like so.”

Pain exploded in her nipples, rectum and pussy. She gasped as the sudden jolt was gone as fast as it had arrived.

“That was the minimum setting. Multiple offences will see it automatically increase.”

He placed the mask on her face. She felt the straps pulled tight at the thing sealed her away from the outside world. It’s a struggle to breath in. Air will have to be worked for.

The screen in front of her eyes flicker on and large blocky letters floated before her.

Slave Training Program MkI

His voice came over the earbuds.

“The program will start in three minutes Jenny. I’ll come and change your catheter bag when needed. The tube will feed you low waste food and fluids. So you are good for a month. You should be fully trained as to what I expect from my slave by then. So, happy birthday, slave. I know you like being forced Jenny. So you’re going to love this.”

A picture appeared in front of her. It was herself, naked, collared and gagged. Taken last week during play.

“You are a slave… What are you?”

“A slave,” she responded.

“Correct” a pleasurable tingle was delivered through the vibrator.

Next a picture of him.

“This is your Master. What are you?”

“A slave.”

“Who owns you?”

“My Master.”



He woke up the next day. Yesterday had been fun. A round of golf. The evening down the pub with mates. He’d also made progress with the barmaid. She’d soon be in his collar too.

After taking a piss he’d stumbled into the play room. The catheter bag needed changing. After it was swapped over he examined the readout on the screen.

She’d been edged thirty times over the night. Three orgasms had been permitted. Fifteen shocks, mostly late at night. Doubtless when she had gotten tired and slurred her speech.

He turned the audio on to listen in.

“What are you?”

“A slave, Master.”

“What is your purpose?”

“To serve my owner, Master.”

“What makes you happy?”

“Pleasing my owner, Master.”

“Are you a person?”

“No, Master. I am an object, a thing , a possession.”

“Do you have rights?”

“No, Master, for I am a slave.”

He flicked it off again. Four weeks of that and she’ll have forgotten who she was. Then once the barmaid was trained too… Things were shaping up nicely.