Jill followed meekly as she was lead on her leash. The bright red ballgag was crushing her tongue and making for lots of drool. The ballet boots, on since seven this morning, restricted her gait some. But not enough that she had any trouble keeping up.

They arrived at their destination, a large padded St Andrews cross. Obediently Jillian stepped up and allowed herself to be strapped in place. Ankles, thighs, waist and wrists. They were not gentle but at the same time, she had been treated worse.

They left her alone. Excited at what was to come Jill tried to calm her nerves. She knew she was looking good decked out in glossy fetish regalia. The harness ballgag was the least of it. A crushing heavy rubber corset held up glossy latex stockings. Opera length latex gloves graced her arms, and a tight sleeveless rubber top contained her breasts. The top, also polished to a mirror-bright shine, was thin enough that it did not disguise her arousal or the heavy rings in her nipples.

Locked tight around her throat was a patent leather posture collar. It was new, a bit gaudy, and very stiff. Contoured to keep her chin up and her head facing forward, while Jill could not see it, she was very aware of its presence. The collar she normally wore, a steel affair only an inch tall, had been removed at the start of the day. A clear indication things were afoot.

So now she waited alone. Not a situation unfamiliar to the slave. While her Mistress had never been a fan of locking her girl up for long periods of inactivity, it was an inevitable side effect of the lifestyle. Whether locked in a cage, or to a piece of bondage furniture such as this, it was unavoidable that Jillian was often left alone to her own thoughts.

Recently, secure and happy in her collar, Jillian had predominantly used these moments to reminisce. There was no point in thinking about the future for she had no control over the direction of her life. But thinking about her past kept her mind active enough that she seldom got bored.

It was a marvel to herself just how happy she was. She had always known that she craved to be kept in bondage. Successive partners had been exposed to her fetishes. It was not until Cathy had collared her, five years ago now, that her dream had started to come true.

There was always a measure of doubt. You cannot know what a sexual fantasy will be like until you act it out. More often than not it is nothing like you imagine. Jill knew she wanted to try being a slave. But it was Cathy that made her want to devote her life to her service.

When you fantasise you tend to focus on the bits that really turn you on. The bits in between, the unsexy bits, tend to be forgotten or ignored. The long periods waiting. Hurting feet crippled by improbable footwear. The healing time for piercings. Ill health, bad moods, Cathy's work and other real-world issues that get in the way. It all gets forgotten when your eyes are screwed shut and you are franticly trying to rub one off.

But being Cathy's slave worked. Never, not once, had Cathy allowed Jillian out of the headspace that she was a slave. Quickly after collaring her, Cathy moved to ensure Jillian could not easily back out. She was made to resign from her job, close her bank accounts as well as her social media sites. Her smartphone was replaced with a utilitarian affair to use when out on errands. She was required to transfer the title of her car over to Cathy and her entire vanilla wardrobe was taken down to a charity shop. In short, there were none of the old frameworks in which Jillian had lived her life left.

Cathy kept her slave busy at first. So busy she did not notice the items missing from her old life. She was trained and educated hard. Foreign languages, cookery skills, musical instruments. Tutors turned up at the loft daily. When not being taught she was expected to practice. Exam failures or poor performances were punished. Some tutors were paid in kind with the slave's services. Others actually turned up with riding crops and fetish outfits of their own. It was not until seven months had passed that it dawned on Jillian just how radically her life had changed.

Her mother had come to visit. But Cathy did not allow her slave any time alone with her mother. She treated her as her own guest, keeping Jill dressed in a latex french maid uniform making her wait on the couple as they caught up. Jill was discussed, but as if she was not actually there. Cathy reported that Jillian was shaping up to be an excellent slave and Mrs B could be proud of her daughter. Her own mother responding that she was delighted to hear that news as well as being very impressed with her shiny uniform. It was clear that the little slut was in capable hands locked in Cathy's collar.

At the end of the visit, the three had descended to the car park in the lift together. Jillian on a leash, held by her Mistress, carrying a box with a few items that used to be hers that were being returned to her mother. Her owner and mother kissed in parting and Jill was required to kiss the toes of her mother's shoes. Her mum left with a passing shot from the car window, "Please give the little slut a thrashing for me for lying about the wine spill on the sofa when she was sixteen. I knew damn well it wasn't the Jenkins girl, she still doesn't like wine to this day."

As Jill grasped her ankles and her Mistress caned her bare backside, at her mother's request, it hit Jill harder that she really was a slave. Her own mother was colluding with her owner. If she got cold feet and ran to her mum, would she hand her back over to Cathy?

The couple fell into a loose routine. Jill did all the chores and cooking. Cathy planned each day for herself and dispenced instructions to her slave on how to assist.

Parties were held, with Jill often being the entertainment. That was as often as not sexual though sometimes she was required to sing or play. Cathy continued with her sports and Jill was now expected to accompany her owner to the gym. For these excursions, Jill was dressed in a black latex leotard and a pair of shiny black plastic trainers. Her owner insisted she did some cardio work though not as vigorous a workout as Cathy's. When she had finished her routine she waited on her owner with drink and towel or spotted her on the weights.

Jill quickly realised she really enjoyed being a slave. Even the unsexy bits of being a slave were fun for her. Always collared and dressed in latex though meant most of her life was now sexy. Just being sent out alone to get some shopping had suddenly become a sexual adventure.

Mistress seemed to be happy too. Her wardrobe of fetishwear was expanding rapidly, and she had found a fetish-themed nightclub to which the couple became regulars. From the moment she walked into the loft she barked out orders, utilising her slave to the max. Jillian had never been in a relationship that had so much great sex. As well as embracing Jill's latex fetish Cathy discovered a sadistic streak that she gleefully explored. The accumulation of fetters, impact toys, sex toys and torture equipment Cathy collected would put most sex shops to shame.

The big change came when Mistress arranged a treat for her slave. Knowing her girl often fantasised about being sold Cathy moved to enable the fantasy to be acted out. She and a number of the other Doms and Domme's who were friendly at the fetish club conspired together to make it as real as possible for their respective subs or slaves. Actors were hired, venues booked and equipment procured. From Cathy's point of view, it was real. She genuinely thought she was being sold. It drove home to her how completely she identified as a slave. Not once did she think to object to being sold as property. Of course she could be sold, because she was a real slave.

However, while this was happening Cathy was sent by her employers to the USA. Forced out of their lifestyle by the necessities of the overseas trip without her slave in tow. Cathy was reminded of some aspects of vanilla life she had not known she was missing. It had been a bitter pill as she too had thought herself content. Added to this was an admirer, who if she had not been happy could have turned her head.

An open expression of feelings and frank discussion of views had cleared the air between owner and slave. It had also opened the way for Cathy to invite others into the family. Thus Linda had entered their lives.

Linda had been like a breath of fresh air. She swept into the lives of the couple and shook things up. She added levity where Mistress could be dour, spontaneity that shattered the routine that could have become a rut. Plus a new dimension to their sex lives that had not previously been considered. One aspect of the girl's lives she did not challenge though was Jill's station as a slave.

Linda was Cathy's girlfriend and Jill was Cathy's slave. All three fucked. Sometimes together sometimes just a pair. Both Cathy or Linda was as likely to make use of the slave if their partner were out. Then again Jill often heard the couple making love while locked in her cage. Jealousy did not figure within the family. The two free members viewed the slave as a glorified, and much loved sex toy. Jill secure in her collar was happy to be used by whoever her Mistress allowed. She got more than enough sex and knew her owner loved her. What was there to be jealous about?

Three months after Linda had moved in Cathy instructed Jill to address Linda as Mistress too. Jill now had two owners. Mistress Linda had as much fun exploring the fetish world as Mistress Cathy had. A Texan, Linda gravitated towards leather and was a natural domme, initially more laid back Linda was far harsher than Cathy if handing out discipline.

There was a grim hiatus when Linda had to return to the US and sort out a proper visa. For four weeks Cathy was without her new love Linda and the slave, also missing the American, had to soak up the brunt of her owner's ire. The party on Linda's return lasted a whole weekend.

Now nearly two years later Jill could not be happier. She felt truly blessed that her life had worked out as it had. She would never have dared fantasise her life could be so perfect or that she would feel so loved.

Just then she heard voices. People were coming.