Cynthia sat on the sofa and watched the girl work. Her diligence and dedication were almost off-putting. The change wrought upon the girl with a little sensory deprivation and some hypnotherapy tapes was staggering.

Before her treatment, the girl had bordered on the clinically depressed. Coming to terms with the fact that she had been coerced into becoming an actual slave. Recognising that she was trapped. Genuinely being held in very real bondage the girl had become obedient but unenthusiastic. She obeyed because she had to. The joy had gone from her life.

The reason was obvious. Unlike Toyah, who was happy to be Sadie's slave, the girl had not dreamed of being collared. In fact, Dave had confessed over a beer down the pub, the girl had only signed up due to losing her home to a hurricane. The girl had felt trapped. Robbed of her life and future, she acknowledged she was a real slave. But she was desperately unhappy with the status quo.

Now she simpered to be dressed in latex. Counted the days to a session on the motor bunny as if it was Christmas. Writhed with sensual pleasure under the whip, and spent the minutes in between trying to think of ways to please her Mistress.

Cynthia had to admit to herself she had discovered a sadistic streak within herself in this job. Being mean to the girl had been fun. The squeals of pain, the tears, the begging and pleading had been a rush. The new eager slave who stoically accepted punishment, as a valuable lesson from her owner, was nowhere near as much fun.

The way she was worshipping her boots right now. She'd been at it for fifteen minutes now and showed no sign of boredom, fatigue or irritation. She genuinely seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to show her devotion to her Mistress by licking her boots to a glossy shine with her tongue. It was pathetic.

In a fit of pique, Cynthia struck her slave with the riding crop she held, "Faster, slut, or I'll not let you lick me out after."

That was another aspect of this that was fucked up. Now she had to threaten her with being denied tasks rather than having them forced upon her. It was like owning a member of the Adams family.

Still, the girl did give better tongue now. Before it had been like sitting on a dying fish. She'd thrashed around but shown no interest. Now the girl was enthusiastic it almost made up for the rest of this being fucked up. The fish was now an electric eel and it was very much alive.

The girl looked like a latex insect at the moment. One that had had most of its legs pulled off. Cynthia had dressed her in a latex hobble skirt. Combined with a savage corset, a latex hood and a pair of ballet heels. She was a head, thorax and abdomen, the boots could be the forceps on the base of an Earwig. Her legs and bum the large shiny abdomen with a wasp waist caused by the corset. Her chest was the thorax with her arms the only pair of legs to survive. The tall, tight collar separated her head, a shiny round glossy ball of rubber with small holes for her eyes and mouth.

What a pathetic insect she was. Laying there on her belly worshipping her boots. Worshipping her. It was a challenge then. How cruel did Cynthia have to be to this latex loving cunt before it feared the whip once more?

Cynthia sneered. After slave had finished licking her out she would have to set about finding out.