Dalia didn’t feel mad.

Annoyed, certainly. Occasionally frustrated. Genuinely angry on very rare occasions.

But never mad. She wasn’t insane. Dalia shifted her hips, grinding her leather covered rear more firmly against a moaning mound of rubber beneath her.

Though, she mentally shrugged, how does one tell? Can a madwoman know that she is mad, or is her madness such that it seems logical from within? Because if so, then perhaps to the outside world, Dalia was mad. But everything mad sense to her.

She lifted herself slightly and smiled as the form beneath her gave a ragged gasp, sucking in air through its gagged mouth. She gave the creature a few moments and then pressed herself back down. A small moan escaped her as she felt it squirm beneath her. The pleasure of its struggles was one thing…what she had done to the person, well…that was something entirely different.

Dalia wasn’t crazy. She had a reason. A good one. She reached out in front of her, to the kneeling rubber suited slave girl and, grabbing her by the collar, forced her down, down, down to wrap her lips around the strapon that jutted up from the waist of the rubber clad slave boy beneath her.

None of this would have happened if Lucian hadn’t been such a colossal, irredeemable, arrogant prick to her. When she had taken the job posting put out by his uber, uber wealthy parents, the Dervings, Dalia had been under the impression that with so much wealth there would have been at least a minimal effort to instill some class into the children. Certainly since they were both in early adulthood, beginning their university placements, they must have been coached in human interaction.

You know, the sort of things that make people like you as a person. Or least, be willing to extend humane treatment to you, even if they didn’t especially like you. But no, those particular lessons seemed to have not been applied or, if they had been, they had been ignored. And so, for nearly three weeks after his parents had departed for their round-the-world tour, Lucian had done his level best to make her life a living hell. Even then, even then, she would have been willing to put up with his shit, Dalia thought to herself, if he hadn’t tried to make a pass at her.

That hadn’t gone well for him.

Dalia had been cleaning up the dinner table, scrubbing it down and looking forward to an early night, when Lucian had come swaggering into the room and grabbed her ass. She hadn’t even had time to consider a response. Her simmering rage had boiled over, and the next thing she knew her hand hurt like hell, and Lucian was on the ground with a dazed look on his face. But that hadn’t been enough. Hell no. Dalia had wanted more. That was logical after all. If she was going to be fired she might as well try to teach the brat a lesson.

So she had hauled the dazed boy out of the kitchen, and back to the room that the family had allotted her. Thankfully, she had been planning a bit of a night for herself, and had brought a small black knapsack with her at the start of the week. Dalia had flung Lucian onto the bed, flipped the bag open, and then tackled him with rope in hand. The idiot hadn’t even realized what was happening until his arms were wrenched behind him and bound tightly at the wrist and elbow. Lucian had tried to scream then, and he managed a single cry before she slapped him and rammed a dildo gag into his mouth.

“Suck on that you little bitch,” Dalia had hissed at the rich boy, feeling a thrill of pleasure at the way his eyes were wide with rage and fear, “I’m going to teach you how to treat women properly, you fucking worm.” She had slapped him again. Hard. Ok, maybe logic wasn’t quite the partner in her initial actions that she had thought. Whatever. Still not crazy. More rope had flowed out of the knapsack, and Lucian began a muffled tirade as she efficiently roped his legs into a snug frogtie. Making him her helpless little bitch. God, she was getting flustered again just thinking about how the helpless asshole’s struggles had set her heart racing with lust. Power. Hell of a drug.

Dalia had pulled a flogger from the bag and dangled it in front of the struggling boy, “I’m going to start with this. I’m going to beat you until you feel like apologizing to me for being a grab handed twat you barely has two brain cells to rub together.”

“Fgghhuuk Ooouuuu!” Lucian had raged against his bonds, his eyes filled with hate. That was fine. Saved her from feeling sorry for the bastard. She slapped him again. And again. God that felt good.

“I guess we’ll start with an apology for that. You don’t direct foul language at a lady, bitchboy.” Dalia had easily flipped him around so that his rump was in the air, “Let’s see if I can put a civil tongue in your head.”

Dalia had worked him over for about half an hour before the arrogant jerk finally caved and began trying to apologize. She kept up her flogging though until he was screaming apologies through his gag. Then she had removed his gag long enough to hear it clearly, before taking great pleasure in ramming the rubber intruder back into his mouth.

“I’m glad you can see that cursing at me, and grabbing my admittedly gorgeous ass is just not the done thing Lucian.” Dalia had said, rummaging around in her pack once more, “But I’m still not done. You need this lesson driven home I think.” And out had come a pair of scissors. Which had sent Lucian back to bucking around the bed and cursing at her. That ate up another twenty minutes or so of slicing all his clothes off, and then beating him back into panting, whimpering submission. And as Dalia had run her hands over his now naked body, Lucian’s sister walked into the room.

Harriet’s snobbish face had such a look of shock on it, seeing her brother naked and bound on Dalia’s bed, that Dalia was tempted to just enjoy it. But the girl’s eyes locked on to Dalia’s, and the governess could see the decision in them. Oh part of it might be genuine concern for her brother, but little Harriet had her own share of spite for the woman who had been put in charge of her educational development. Harriet had begun to turn to run for help, and Dalia and sprung at her, grabbing her in the doorway. The bitch fought better than Lucian, and Dalia took a few elbows to the stomach and punches elsewhere as she wrestled the wildcat down. But down Harriet had gone, eventually getting handcuffed into a hogtie. The girl had launched into a spitting, enraged tirade about what was going to happen to Dalia over this, and Dalia had had to shut her up. So very soon Harriet sported a red print on her cheek, and a bright red ballgag crammed into her mouth.

Dalia had never felt so peaceful and alive at the same time. Certainly never approaching the sort of catharsis in that monstrous house.

She had alternated between the two of them over the next few hours, disciplining them in turn until they both shrieked her name and her new title: Mistress. Dalia had fantasized about getting more into the BDSM scene. About owning a slave. And now she had two. It was hardly mad to take advantage of the situation. After all, the two of them deserved every blow and humiliation she heaped on them, and she deserved some payback for the hell they had put her through. And heck, she deserved to be happy too. And nothing made her happier that night than reveling in her mastery over two rich, stuck up, bitches.

Dalia hadn’t felt any different the next day, or indeed the day after that. She only briefly left them to collect up a far larger supply of bondage gear from her place before returning with a vengeance to begin playing with her two sluts in earnest. She had the both of them in her clutches, and took far too much pleasure from punishing them, forcing them to pleasure her, or forcing them to take up a larger share of the cleaning duties she had up to that point been stuck with. There was little way to top the feeling of empowerment as she forced one of them between her legs while the other had to stay nearby, helpless in their bondage to do more than watch. Or she would make them clean or serve her drinks while she watched television and got brought to orgasm after orgasm.

Dalia had just finished flogging Lucian, who she had bound up and then strapped naked to a small table, when her cell phone rang. She let it ring for a moment as she gagged the boy, delivering a sharp smack to his bottom and pressing her latex clad body against his, and then accepted the call. She nearly let out a very un-dominant sort of squeal as Mr Derving’s voice came through it.

“Hi there Dalia, I hope you’ve been well.”

“Oh just fine sir!” Dalia’s brain managed to kickstart her mouth. Her free hand began to rub and stroke Lucian’s semi hard cock, and the boy was soon making soft grunting and moaning sounds. She had, thankfully, made a few dummy phone calls to herself yesterday while playing with him. Hopefully he didn’t realize this was the real deal until it was done.

“I hope you and Mrs. Derving are enjoying yourself.”

The man on the other end chuckled, “Oh we’ve had a few moments, true enough. I actually was just calling to check in on how you’ve been getting by.”

“Not too badly sir,” Dalia assured him, continuing to tease Lucian. Harriet, thankfully, she had left hogtied in front of the television with her holes plugged with vibrators. The bitch needed wearing out, and she hadn’t yet learned to keep quiet when Dalia was on the phone.

“I trust nothing untoward has gone on? Lucian and Harriet are following your directions?”

“Had some rough patches at first sir, but I think we’ve reached an understanding.” Dalia left off stroking Lucian’s cock, running her hand across the black latex top that she had put on. Then she uncorcked the nearby bottle of lube, and began to smear a generous amount around Lucian’s rear opening. The boy began to squirm at the sensation, and Dalia had to pause for a few moments to give his balls a few warning grips before he settled.

“Well I’m glad to hear that,” the man continued, “I have a rather important follow on question. You see, I’ve had a significant professional opportunity come up over here. It requires my personal attention, and I believe I’ll be away for some time. I was wondering…” He paused for a moment, “I was wondering if I might be able to extend your contract by another six months?”

“Oh.” Dalia had begun to lube up the small strapon she had been wearing and paused in shock at the question, “I…um…its rather unexpected sir.” Lucian shifted in front of her, warbling into his gag and she gripped his rear with her free hand, undulating her hips to stroke the strapon over his buttocks. Give him a sense of what was coming.

“I know, I know.” Mr Dervish sounded almost apologetic, Dalia noted with surprise, and then was shocked as he continued, “I’m willing to add a rather substantial pay bump if you agree. And of course, I’ll provide you with access to a household maintenance account. It should cover all possible essentials and then some.”

Dalia’s eyes were goggling at the offer. Her mind raced as she began to slowly press herself in to Lucian’s rear, drawing more moans from the bound boy. Her free hand had now returned to gripping and massaging his cock to ease his experience with her strapon.

“I…um…that’s, that’s definitely a generous offer sir.” Dalia managed, “Of course, I would be happy to do so if that’s on offer. Thank you!”

“No thank you!” Mr Derving responded, “I didn’t want to have to root around for a new governess from afar, so this is a service you are doing me. You have my thanks. And if either of my children give you any trouble, please let me know. I don’t think they’ve ever had a governess for that long, so fair warning.”

“Oh I’m certain they won’t give me too much trouble,” Dalia assured her employer as she began to gently thrust in and out of his son’s rear, “But thank you sir. I will bear that in mind.”

The call had ended, and Dalia had begun to laugh. Her pace of thrusts increased as she did so, and Lucian was moaning with uncontrolled pleasure as she took him. He didn’t really start screaming though until she told him what his father had said. That rescue, far from being only a week or two away, was now going to be sometime in the new year. Harriet seemed to handle the news a bit better, but that may have been the hour long orgasm barrage she had been through when Dalia finally told her. Certainly she hadn’t been able to complain much with her face buried in between Dalia’s legs as the governess waxed poetic about her coming plans for the pair of them.

Because she had plans now. At least, the beginnings of them. First thing on the list was ordering a large stock of bondage equipment and furniture. She had to keep her slaves locked away in a separate wing of the house while the work was going on, but after a few days they could be moved into the new dungeon that Dalia had added. Sturdy metal cages became their new sleeping quarters, though Dalia was kind enough to ensure the bottoms were well padded. Now that she had months, she didn’t want abused and terrified slaves. No, she wanted obedient, well trained pets. And, thanks to their father, she had the resources to make it happen. She just needed some further expertise in slave training. Which is where the Internet came in. A week of searching, and furious reading, finally netted her what she was looking for.

Accomplices.

That was how she was introduced to Mistresses Victoria and Athena. Two gorgeous black dominants who offered a selective service to those who could afford it. Intensive slave training for the most hardcore of players. Their fees were steep, but they also offered discretion and guaranteed two-on-one training. Dalia emailed back and forth a few times, ensuring that the situation was properly understood. Dalia had a real bitch of a submissive who needed to be taught a lesson about respecting her betters. A lengthy lesson.

And that was how, two weeks after Mr Derving had called her, she had found herself standing in the mansion’s spacious garage, watching as Mistress Athena yanked a bitchsuited Harriet towards the back of a large van. Dalia had watched the formerly snobby rich girl try to pull against her leash, yelping as the black woman’s crop lashed down at her, and couldn’t help but smile smugly at the sight.

“So,” Mistress Victoria continued in an upper class English accent that made Dalia squeal internally, “An intensive training session. Concentration on how to be a real lady, maintenance of her academics, and thorough experience in her true role as a bondage slut.” She cocked an eyebrow, “Anything else in particular?”

Dalia had shaken her head, continuing to enjoy the sight of Harriet being so effectively handled by the statuesque Athena. She almost, almost regretted not giving them Lucian instead. That arrogant little prat’s face when he realized what these two ebony amazons were going to do to him would have been delicious. Ah well.

“Well don’t worry about a thing then.” Victoria had assured her with a confident smile, "You've given us six months with her. I haven’t encountered the slave yet who resists longer than a few weeks, but she has some fire to her.” The smile turned hungry for a moment, “Always the most fun to break to the collar, those ones. You'll receive weekly reports of course. If any aspects require additional concentration or other adjustment, just let us know." Harriet tried to do a final runner but was yanked to a gasping halt, who then delivered half a dozen strong blows to her rear that had her howling into her gag. A large cage was hardmounted into the back of the van, and Harriet was bundled inside with a minimum of fuss after that.

Dalia handed a small briefcase to Victoria, “The first month is in there. I can provide the remainder every two weeks if that’s acceptable?”

“Eminently.” The two women had shaken hands, and just like that Dalia had halved her workload essentially for free. It wasn’t her money after all that would be going to train Harriet into being the perfect submissive little bondage slut. Dear Daddy was paying for the transformation of both of his asshole children into more productive members of society.

Lucian, or Lucy as she called him now when she didn’t just opt for a more descriptive nickname, was doing the dishes when she had returned from the garage. Bound in a tight latex maid uniform, only a thin strip around his eyes in his hood demonstrated the human underneath the fetish attire. He had moaned as she pressed up against him, holding him hard against the counter as she brazenly groped his ass and fake breasts. He only had to wear them when he was Lucy, which wasn't all that often anyway. She preferred him looking like him, if only to drive home his subservient status. No escapism for his brain, that this somehow wasn't him who had been so thoroughly dominated and mastered. So she gave his fake boobs only a couple gropes before shifting her hand to wrap around his chastity device. He had been locked into that since the phone call. Dalia had delighted in telling him that all future orgasms had to be earned. He shuddered and moaned. She had propped her chin on his shoulder, leaning her head against his, "Your sister gets to start private tutoring lessons. Six whooooole months of them. Her new teachers are going to take very good care of her, and her training."

Lucian moaned again and she grinded against him, continuing to grip his caged cock. His chains jingled merrily as he squirmed in her grip. Her other hand rose from his ass to grab his collar, pulling his head back so she could place her mouth next to this ear, "Which means for the next six months you will have my undivided attention. Just you, me, and a room of bondage supplies and furniture."

Lucian tried to gurgle some sort of defiant response, but Dalia barely heard him. His defiance didn’t matter any more. Hadn’t mattered since Mr Derving’s phone call. She had been confident even then that Lucian would be her eagerly submissive plaything well before his parents returned.

And it turned out, happily enough, that she had been right. Which is where the next phase of her plan kicked in. And why she was presently questioning whether or not she had finally snapped and gone completely mental.

Because she had to be insane to keep this up. Had to be.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Dalia suddenly snapped. The rubberized slave girl in front of her moaned, and tried to straighten from her enforced kneeling posture. Her arms, locked in an armbinder behind her, flailed for a moment before Dalia gripped her collar once more and forced her lips back around the rubber phallus.

“The better job you do, the easier time your husband will have when I fuck him up the ass, Slut. Now suck it like you mean it!” Mrs. Derving, who as of approximately a day and a half ago would now be answering to the name Slut, redoubled her efforts to wet the rubber shaft that rose from her husband’s waist. Dalia continued to grind her ass into the hooded and gagged face below her, and revelled in the room. Rather, in the contents of the room.

She and her two newest slaves were on a large bed covered in rubber. Mr Derving was in a full isolation suit and strapped down quite heavily to the bed. Slut was dressed in latex catsuit, with a hood and armbinder strapped tightly to keep her secure. A large leather collar and leg irons completed her look.

Across the room from her, but still in easy sight from the bed was Lucian. Her little Slave Lucy. She had belted and strapped him to a sybian machine that kept a vibrating plug up his ass. She had also left his cock to a milking machine that mechanically pleasured him without slowing. His torso was well secured in a straghtjacket, and he was calmly fellating a dildo on his training stand as the tapes that she had commissioned from Victoria and Athena further subjugated him. It had been a couple of months since he had shown even a hint of resistance, but she didn’t see the point in half measures. Besides, she had very much grown to like him that way. Mindlessly obedient, carrying out every order she gave him immediately and without complaint.

The bitch of a sister was meant to be graduating from her specialized course soon. Maybe she would send Slut on it next. Hubby would have to be a personal project. There was no way he could be allowed to see anyone else until she had her hooks fully in him. Dalia smiled and spared a glance for the camera that was busy recording the debauchery on the bed.

A few videos and pictures of her debasing him in his own home ought to tide him over until the training tapes really kicked in. Dalia was enthralled with the idea of leading him, suitably bound and hooded, into a public fetish club. In her wildest fantasies she paraded him without a hood in full view of the other kinksters, forever binding him to her. A pleasing enough fantasy, and one that she had already done a handful of times with Lucy, though she had been careful to keep him bound, hooded, and gagged at all times.

She had to be mad to think this would work. That she could successfully enslave and keep all four of the Dervings as her submissive bondage playthings. But damn it all, she had already committed to this course of action when she slapped that asshole and tied him up. If these two jerks hadn’t raised such spiteful children, she wouldn’t have to be doing this. It was their fault. That was logical. Reasonable.

She would take the time to explain all of that, explain her reasoning, when her pets were all properly trained. She would line them all up in a row, bound, gagged, and collared. All of them locked in chastity, and otherwise naked before their Mistress. And she would explain why they were slaves. Why they would be slaves to her for the rest of their lives. And why that was the logical, reasonable, and sane solution to the general awfulness they had exhibited prior to wearing her collar.

Dalia was confident they would see things her way. She was their Mistress after all.