Two new pretty things for Mistresses. Expensive red shoes & a slavegirl.

Two new pretty things for Mistresses

.

Expensive red shoes & a slavegirl.

  I finished off my makeup in the mirror, by applying a final touch of lip gloss & just the tiniest extra hint of mascara to the tips my lashes. I had spent over 2 hours in the process, in  the bath & waxing my body all over & especially intimately. Painting my toenails & primping myself. I slipped out of my lace baby doll nightie.

& pulled on my most expensive sheer silk pantie & bra set. A matching garter belt for my silk stockings & my most delicate lace camisole completed my underwear.

Most of my mistresses loved the camisoles so I had a wardrobe full of them, and drawers full of expensive black underwear. I had been told that nothing looks better on a blonde girl than sexy black underwear. So I had taken the hint.

I like a few other girls had been installed as courtesans to the impossibly rich & powerful, in the most exclusive parts of London. My apartment & clothes paid for extravagantly as well as enough pocket money to live on my savings for the rest of my life. I’m told my portfolio is doing very well, whatever that means. My terms & conditions, remain beautiful & available. Oh & the elocution lessons. What choice did I have? In the tedious 2030’s. Work in an office towards a mortgage & boredom. Or a life of great sex, & indulgence with the rich & famous. I must confess to a little apprehension at first expecting sweaty middle aged men & overweight dykes. However in this day & age of healthy living & plastic surgery, anybody who is anybody is healthy &

trim these days.

That’s the point about girls, & though I’ve never met any boys, like me. There’s nothing plastic or artificial about us. I suppose we are just the lucky sexual elite of any generation. Who end up modelling or in high class prostitution, or just staying home,

undiscovered.

My other surprise was how much more popular I am with women rather than men. I suppose my petite, pert features & body appeal more to a certain type of women.

& a certain type of dominant women or mistress. Not that I am unpopular with men, but am in so much more demand with the more dominant lady.

Not that I never have male company but its been increasingly scarce recently. & also the more dominant female seems to know instinctively how to tease & seduce me into all sorts of slightly embarrassing activities.

& how to be so sweet & cruel at the same time. Often I’m more excited afterwards, just thinking about her than during a session.

I get picked up discreet chauffeur’s delivered & taken home at whatever time of day equally discreetly. Occasionally I have been tempted to tip the driver with fellatio or more, especially if I’m aching for a mans touch. But lately a certain mistress, has forbidden that sort of activity for me & I must confess to having lost a lot of interest in men recently.

& to have been very excited by her restrictions & instructions.

Instructions relayed by phone or the house computer. To masturbate at a certain time, for how long, what to fantasise about. & most recently whether I’m permitted to orgasm or not. Also what to wear, what to eat, when to go to bed, even sometimes having to phone her up for permission to go to the toilet. Absolutely delicious. These last few weeks I sometimes I haven’t known if I was coming or going, literally. & I loved it.

    

I rarely have any free time away from functions & parties & when I do I tend to spend it with other girls like me. Who find themselves popular with a certain type of woman & actually like it. Today was no different but completely different. I was meeting the girls, well 3 of them & the Mistress. It was a bit of a farewell & a celebration as I had been invited to the ‘Spa’, an incredible exclusive  lesbian  gated community in the south of France

  for an extended stay.

I slid into a little black dress & tied the bow under my breasts, lifting my modest but ample cleavage just that little bit more. The filmy dress was an expensive layering of thin sheer

sheaf’s. Obscuring my body prettily, but also revealing a glimpse of me where the thin slippery slips stuck to my curves. The dress only came down as far as the tops of my tights, so was quite short, on the verge of being scandalous but classy as mistress liked. & she had paid a lot for it.

The shoes were next. Not my usual shoes, these were hand made & were as expensive as my apartment. The cherry red leather, looked at first glance to be quite expensive but not too expensive until you looked at them closely. This was the first time I’d been allowed to wear them. & I had been instructed to bring the hand carved wooden box they came in with me. The shoes had been delivered yesterday by a private courier. Not a commercially available service but a privately hired motorcycle courier, who had flown in from Italy.

 

My tight little leather bomber jacket was last. I loved this jacket, my one act of defiance. The leather polished to

a patent leather sheen. With black chrome zips & furnishings. Mistress liked it too. She said it suited my saucy personality, so she permitted me to wear it in her company. I must admit to being a bit insulted & turned on being called saucy by her.

The chauffer arrived & buzzed. I picked up my tiny bag & went out to the car, allowing the house automation to turn everything off & lock everything, then went outside.

He

smiled, I didn’t recognise him, opening the door for me.

“Good morning Adele, that’s a nice dress” He said looking me over hungrily.

The drivers were often like that, we didn’t mind at all, that’s why we fucked them sometimes.

“Good morning driver” I smiled prettily, pretending to blush.

Why did they never notice the shoes I thought to

myself.

Then closed the door again after I was safely inside. He flicked his cigarette away then got in the front. It amused us girls to note that the chauffeurs also had had elocution lesions. These men were paid not just to drive but to guard our clients & us. Bribing or if necessary fighting us out of any trouble, & I mean any trouble. Nobody interfered with the pleasures of the wealthy these days.

We drove off into London. He kept the dividing screen up, discreetly not bothering me. I idly watched a few music videos on the in car screen, I was still only 21 after all. It was interesting to note how many of these celebrities & the pretty girls & boys, in these videos

  I had met.

We were soon there speeding through the pay for congestion lanes. Since moving to central London, I hadn’t thought about learning to drive or owning a car. It was just so incredibly busy, if you couldn’t afford to pay for these special lanes & the private roads.

Letting me out again, holding my hand as I straightened up, my blue eyes met his briefly. For a second I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t.

for a second I was disappointed until I remembered mistress.

“Thank you.” I smiled

“

Your welcome Miss.”

These impeccable manners & articulation was actually quite sexy.

I went inside 2 of the girls, Lia & Billie were already there. Another condition of our employment was the shortening of the often overly long flowery working class names, popular at the moment. For example I was originally called Adelia. The clientele found most of these names too common.

 

My white wine had just arrived when Candy did. She was looking quite flustered flushed.

“Sorry I’m late.” she said flouncing down

Billie had her lean forward, slightly.

“You’ve something on your lip.” She said showing

  Candy a mirror.

We all looked & giggled at the blob of fresh semen in the corner of her lip. Like mistletoe on her red lips.

“So I have.” she said licking it off & swallowing exaggeratedly,

As we giggled, in mock scandal.

Then she noticed another blob on her breasts. Quick as a flash she scooped it up on her finger & reaching forward smeared it in on my lips’

“A present for you Adele.”

I did blush slightly then. Everyone here being my friends knew Mistress Helen had been teasing me all week.

Arranging my nights out so that they involved escort duties but no sex. Then phoning me up when I got home, teasing me, while I masturbated & then telling me that I was not allowed to orgasm. Testing & preparing me for the Spa.

“Thank you Candy.” I said sweetly licking my lips clean

Everyone could see the evident flush on my breasts though & I knew it.

Everybody cooed over my shoes jealously. I must admit I was a bit overawed by them myself. I don’t think I would have worn them if I hadn’t been told to.

We ate tiny but pretty haute cuisine dishes, followed by even tinier deserts. Our eating, & table manners  nearly as delicate as the food itself. Even the white wine was low fat & sugar free. Sometimes I was just so hungry. At least we could smoke, now the carcinogens & smell had been eliminated. That & the little euphoria pills so popular these days. When I say we, Mistress had asked me not to smoke or take the little heart shaped pills all week too.

 

Mistress Helen arrived about 45 minutes late. As a domme & one of the clientele she didn’t apologise to us. We all shifted around to give the best seat. she indicated for me to sit next to her patting the leather seat, rather proprietarily. Of course I obliged. The other girls & I exchanged looks, under fluttering eyelashes.

& then exchanged further knowing glances. They all knew I was smitten’

Mistress Helen was a brunette, who looked about a perfect 30, In fact we didn’t know how much older she was, cosmetic surgery being flawless if you can afford it these days. Her quite casual silk dress, belied its exclusivity.

As did her understated jewellery.

She ordered a full size meal, pudding & red wine & consumed it while we looked on hungrily. She could have all the plastic surgery & chemical fat  dispersal treatments she wanted, she was in charge. When she had finished

she and the other girls popped a few euphoria pills & lit up cigarettes, I could have cried.

Over the smoke she asked each girl in turn who she had been fucking? if he or she was nice? did they like him or her? She pointedly didn’t ask me, Instead she kept her other hand pressed softly into my crotch, touching me gently through my dress & knickers under the table. I just sat these, squirming the bare backs of my legs, slippery & hot on the leather seating. Mistress kept each girls eyes in hers while she was talking to them but mostly she kept mine in hers.

So much so that I wasn’t really listening to the conversation around me. Neither was she, she was watching me amused.

Gradually the other girls became aware of her hand between my legs.

& our lack of attention.

Mistress leaned over to me.

“You smell nice today Adele.”

“Thank you Mistr….” Then I stopped, realizing her meaning suddenly flustered

  blushing.

Candy sniggered.

Mistress looked at her coldly & she stopped, quite abruptly. Not out of fear for her life of privilege, but from the sudden flush on her upper body. Sexual excitement, Mistress Helen was very sexually dominant & intimidating.

“Anyway girls, Adele & I must be on our way know, say goodbye, you might not be seeing her for quite a while.”

She said wiping her finger on my thighs, she had foiled me again I still hadn’t come.

They all stood & crowded round me. I had a little difficulty standing up at first. Then succumbed to all the hugs & kisses. I was more than a little tearful & not just from all the emotion.

Mistress watched aloofly for a while.

 

“Come along Adele, bye, bye girls, be good.” She announced coolly, striding off.

Obediently I trotted after her.

Leaving the girls behind giggling & chatting, gossiping over white wine & cigarette smoke.

In the underground car park. She stopped me by her car & asked me to remove the shoes. I did so without thinking.

Actually quite glad to be free of them. Her driver popped them into their box. She also had me remove my leather jacket.

The driver opened the large boot of the car. I got the biggest surprise of my life. In there kneeling were 6 girls in their underwear. Tied & bound, gagged & blindfolded. They looked comfortable enough but frightened.

Mistress Helen saw my obvious & quite natural shock.

“Don’t worry about them Adele, they are coming too, they just haven’t been as obedient & pleasing as you.”

I didn’t know what to say & I just stood there numbly for a few seconds.

Mistress lifted my chin with her finger, raising my eyes to hers.

“You do still want to do this Adele, don’t you?”

My eyes in hers I was lost

“Yes Mistress, of course, but…”

She pressed her finger to my lips, silencing me. Under my nose I could smell my arousal.

“Then

shhh girl.” She said almost impatiently

I shivered with excitement.

“& the dress then girl.” She told me.

I obeyed, I

  was too excited, smitten to not to.

The driver put the clothes & shoes in the boot, besides the captive girls & closed the boot.

“Oh one more thing.” She said absently.

As the driver snapped a set of metal cuffs, or slave bracelets on my wrists behind my back & my ankles.

Then helped me into the car, sitting besides Mistress.

He raised the discreet screen & I was vaguely aware of the car driving off, through my haze of lust & quite frankly sexual fear.

 

Mistress poured herself a glass of wine & lit a cigarette. I was offered neither. Though it might have been quite difficult, cuffed as I was. I waited while she

  absently playing with her phone cum handheld computer.

After a while she turned to me, as if suddenly noticing I was there

  and patted my thigh.

“No, no Adele this will never do.” She said tossing a silk cushion to the floor at her

feet .

“Kneel there girl.” Her voice was suddenly firm, firmer than I had heard before.

I wanted to object, to demur. Instead I shuddered in helpless sexual excitement.

“Yes Mistress.” I managed to whisper

She helped, guided me to a kneeling position, between her open legs.

“Thank you Mistress.” I said looking up at her.

She patted my head

“Get used to calling free women Mistress, Adele.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She opened her legs & lowered her expensive cream silk cami-knickers. Her pubic hair was trim, & neat, Brazilian style. She preferred me clean & smooth.

The smell of her arousal in my nostrils. I suddenly felt very warm & hot. She reached over & exaggerated sniffed the air around me.

“I told you that you smelt nice today Adele.”

“Thank you Mistress.”

She pulled my face into her.

“A little bit more slowly girl, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

I slowed the rhythm

  of my tongue.

“That’s better, think only of maximising my pleasure Adele.”

A short while later, she came loudly, ecstatically, her thighs gripping my head tightly. My face was glistening sticky & wet.

“Oh that was so

nice, I’ve been waiting for that Adele.”

I looked up flattered.

“Oh Mistress have you been waiting all week too?”

“Don’t be so silly, of course not, just this afternoon.”

“Oh.”

I looked up at her with tears in my eyes.

She reached down & unlocked my ankles briefly, removing my panties then closing the bracelets again.

“Oh Mistress, may I come now.”

She said nothing, wiping her thighs & pubic mound with my black panties. She looked down at me holding the panties, in 2 fingers as though disgusted with the cheapness & dampness of my underwear.

“Don’t be silly girl, you are here for my

  pleasure.”

Before I could reply she stuffed the panties into my mouth. Quite expertly too she had obviously done this before.

“This is all part of the pleasure Adele, having you kneel wetly at my feet.”

“Unless you would rather go in the back?”

I shook my head, suddenly wondering if any or all the girls in the boot had pleasured her like this today.

She opened a small plastic case. Inside were two bright cherry red shaped ben wah balls. The two balls were joined together in an hourglass shape. She rolled them in some thick gloopy gel. From the smell of it I knew the syrupy liquid was arousal gel. We called it love honey. It aroused the areas it was applied to & you in general immensely. She coated the two devices & reached down to me again. Once more quite expertly she slipped one of the ben wah’s into my vagina, the other into my anus. I was suddenly very embarrassed. Anal sex was something I found a little degrading, & tried to avoid if at all possible. She knew I was very squeamish about this. I was suddenly very glad of my restrained diet this week, & the long bath. I was thankfully spotless down there. With a finger front & rear she pushed them a little deeper.

“Now sit there quietly Adele & think about my pleasure, how you might please me further.”

I nodded in tears as the gel and balls started to make me throb with frustrated need.

“Oh & you may not come Adele, do you understand.”

I moaned & nodded, my pupils blackly dilated, my eyes wide over the panty gag.

She removed her knickers & tossed them to the floor, besides me. Putting on a fresh pair, she opened her legs again & let me rest my head on her thighs.

I knelt there my emotions in a confused state a mixture of contentment & stymied need, & sexual vulnerability, & quite honestly fear. She idly patted & stroked my head, as she conducted business in several languages on her phone.

We drove seamlessly onto the super-fast continental rail link, without stopping for ID card checks. The restrictions didn’t apply to the super rich, just the likes of me. & no-one would know I was in the car. For the first time I pondered, just how above the law Mistress Helen & her friends were & just how vulnerable I was. It scared & excited me.

I guess I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing I remember was being surprised at the panties stuffed into my mouth, staring at Mistresses own knickers, & becoming gradually more aware of her talking on the phone still. Then I realised just what had woken me, the car had been slowing & we had now stopped.

The driver opened the door for Mistress. She pushed my head to one side, onto the chair, without a word to me & then stepped out of the car. In alarm I heard her high heels clicking off into the distance, & her voice, still talking in the phone fade away. I looked up into the impassive face of the chauffeur, his eyes hidden by his mirrored sunglasses.

His expression betraying nothing. I looked down embarrassed by the pleading look on my face, reflected in his glasses.

I was looking at his polished shoes when someone else appeared behind him, wearing laced heeled riding boots. I looked up slowly, black jodhpurs & a black polo neck jumper. With her raven black hair, cropped short crewcut style  She was quite stunningly beautiful.

& frosty. Her blue eyes were utterly piercing. The look of utter contempt in her eyes was palpable. I quickly looked not just away but down.

She snapped her fingers quickly. More than a little unsettled & frightened I took her meaning instantly looked up again smartly. Then she snapped her fingers again indicated I was to get out of the car. This time nobody helped me as I struggled to climb out. The driver actually snickered as I stumbled on to the floor at their feet. She said something to him, not in English. I guessed from the tone that she had rebuked him slightly. But, good humouredly as

  they both laughed.

I was to stand & wait. She was wearing tight leather gloves, & carrying a riding crop. I didn’t want to find out what for. I was to find out later she was one of the slave handlers. Employed by the Spa, for public discipline & handling of the Spa’s pleasure slaves, or private girls if they were in public. They too were lesbian or bi & there was cutthroat

  competition in the more extreme bdsm clubs, to work in places like this, at least amongst the dommes that is. She looked me over, lifting my head & breasts casually, with her gloved fingers & worse with the tip of her whip. Then when she was satisfied with my posture & sated her inspection she walked behind the car leaving me quivering. As she supervised the other girls as they were released from the boot.

We stood in a line 7 of us. All blonde & all frightened. Not all the girls here were blonde but a lot of us were. They all had tape across their mouths except me. That was soon rectified, a wide strip of red plastic stuck across my lips holding the panties firmly in. All too had a strip of tape between their legs going from front to rear over their pubic mound and anal opening. That was soon rectified too. She looked me over & looked to be extremely satisfied at my discomfort. We were each leashed, the leash being a curious affair, having a collar arrangement at either end, so we could be leashed together in a line or not as required. We were leashed together separated by the 30cm lead. This being only one of the leashes available. My  metal cuffs were removed, only to be replaced by lockable leather devices. The metal ones tossed into the boot of the car. We all matched now, except the tape between my legs & over my mouth was red theirs was black. We made a good contrast I was fourth in line.

 

Behind me the car drove off. I never did find out what happened to my leather jacket or dress. Most likely, my bimbo attire tossed in the trash, as unimportant now as their owner. She continued to examine each of us in turn, until we were all quaking & trembling in the fading sunshine.

Shivering with fear despite the warmth.

Then with a sudden & loud whack of her crop on her boots, she turned as if to walk away & snapped her fingers.

“Come along.” She ordered in heavily accented English.

Her first words to us.

She strode along, we hobbled after her, the link in the ankle cuffs was extremely short. Bumping each other & being bumped by each others bouncing breasts as we trotted & jogged, restricted by the cuffs to keep up, with the Handler. We entered a long low hall, crudely decorated but spotlessly clean. Hurrying about were girls in skimpy maids uniforms. Or less some of them were dressed only in frilly aprons or were simply nude. They all kept their eyes down when passing our escort. & each greeted her cheerfully & submissively as they passed. She didn’t acknowledge their fearful respectful

  salutations in the least. We passed other women dressed much as she was. She exchanged a few words with them as they looked us over quite candidly. Not for the first time today I wondered what I had let myself in for, & how I could extradite myself, how soon I might extricate myself & more importantly if.

We seemed to be going the long way around this building.

down seemingly endless steps. More than three was endless in ankle bracelets. Where there was obviously lifts. Eventually after traversing what appeared to be similar corridors, back then forth on 3 different levels after which we were here in the sub basement.

We were in a low stone whitewashed room. Without windows, in the room there were 4 low doors, about a suitable size for a dog, or pig, or so I thought, at least for a little while. Despite the rudeness of the room it was utterly spotless. Like the corridors we had traversed I don’t think I had ever seen rooms so immaculate. One of the low doors was open. We were instructed to kneel. There was another Handler in the room. The two dommes swapped cigarettes, oh how I ached for a smoke now. The two of them chatted away in another language for a few minutes.

Then seemingly just as it occurred to my body how desperately I needed to pee, my body had suppressed, the ache in the car as it tends to do.

But now we were still I suddenly felt a sharp hot pang of need, swelling my urethra.

“Oh wait should we let these girls go pee pee?” Her accent seemed to laugh, disdainfully at the expression

  “before we lock them up?” The other said to our escort loudly & in English.

Oh please, please, please. I was suddenly so desperate.

“No let them wait till tomorrow, they wont mind.”

The cruel laughing reply.

She stood in front & over us.

“You don’t mind do you girls?”

We all pleaded through our gags, the words muffled completely.

“See?” she said to the other

“As long as they don’t pee

pee in the kennel.”

Kennel?

“No they wont pee pee in the kennel, will you girls?

Unless you all want to feel the whip?”

As if to demonstrate she loudly cracked the crop on her boots

  We all jumped & cringed in fear.

The other domme laughed, or should I say hooted derisorily.

“Right, in the kennel then little sluts.” She said harshly, snapping her whip on her boots behind us.

We all quickly crawled towards & through the open door.

Inside the kennel it was about 80cm3  we were crammed in. the tiny room itself was lined with what appeared to be a vibrant orangey cherry coloured plump plastic cushioning. It gave softly, quite sensuously. The cushioning being cheap light honeycomb.

Giving easy to the hard cement frame of the cell.

When we were all squeezed in, literally.

A voice behind us mockingly “Sleep well girls.”

The other voice cruel laughing “& no pee

pee.”

“Yes, no pee

pee.” The other laughed, lashing her boot.

There was some discourse in the other language. At a guess I would say German from its musical authoritarian quality, actually they were Danish.

Then some more laughter.

  

The door was closed behind us, plunging us into pitch blackness.

There was a moan of fright. Then after a few seconds the light came on. A dim red light source, but it was impossible to tell from where. With the door closed it was impossible to tell where it had been either squirming frightened still bound & leashed to each other in the tiny space. We tried to look at each other. To discern each others features. But in the dim light it was impossible. If anything this diffuse light seemed worse than the blackness. Although we would on later occasion learn that this wasn’t the case. We were all moaning & whimpering into our gags frightened. Filling the small space with the low ambient noise, it was impossible to make out anything intelligible from each others muffled sounds. We had been gagged well. Outside the kennel we could hear nothing. There was

  nothing to do but wait.

Eventually I managed to drift off to a fitful sleep. The other girls did too. However even when we woke we had no idea how long we had been locked up for. The constant need to wee was absolutely tormenting me. I could tell from the squirming of the other girls they were in a similar state of distress.

Our tiny movements, constantly agitating our ben wah balls, only making the sharp ache worse & worse. I resolved to tell Mistress Helen, as soon as possible that I didn’t like this & I wanted to go back to London. Somewhere at the back of my mind I knew it wouldn’t be as easy as that.

Eventually after what felt like days the door opened. I was surprised at where the door turned out to be completely disoriented  as I was. We crawled out & were instructed to stand, then promptly led away. By two handlers.

Different women this time. They seemed bored & disinterested in us.

In another room we were unbound & ordered to strip. Having the bondage tape removed so briskly was extremely painful. It was just as well we were all still gagged with our panties, judging from the muffled cries.

  I was left smarting & tearful. One by one we were ungagged too.

“Any complaints?” It wasn’t a question, rather a challenge. We fell silent

Heavily accented English again though this time a different accent.

The two handlers stood there tapping the riding crops on their boots.

None of us dared to say a word.

The room was equipped with a single washbowl. We were allowed to crowd round & clean ourselves hurriedly. We were allowed a handful of water from the tap each to drink. There was also a toilet, with no dividing walls at all. But unusually the plain metal seat, which was unusual in itself was locked with a padlock. The floor was tiled too & sloped to a large sinkhole. There was also an abundance of equipment in this

room, that looked like stocks, a few buckets and tubes & some rather unpleasant looking whips.

Along another wall was a bare rack of clothing. After we had finished washing we were instructed to dress. There was a sheer, quite shiny brassiere panty & garter belt. The tights unusually had a thin rubbery sole. I didn’t see any shoes, so I figured this was all we were going to get. Then the maids outfits, made out of a satiny plasticky fabric.

With white lacy frills & a lacy apron too. I was a petite size 8 but these outfits were more like 4’s they were so small & tight. The whole effect was slutty, cheap & demeaning.

Our ben wah balls had not been removed since yesterday, but this hadn’t been overlooked. One by one we were instructed to remove the devices & they were dipped in the arousal ‘love honey’ & pushed back inside us. The handler doing the inserting kept my eyes locked in hers as she pushed it deeply inside. I was glad not to be the only one to moan loudly. I could see the handler enjoyed my moan. When she had reached the last girl, she gave her, her gloved finger to lick clean. Frightened the poor girl flushed pink with embarrassment as she licked the glove clean. I was so glad that wasn’t me.

Finally one of the

girl, built up her courage & spluttered.

“Please …”

“Please Mistress.” She was interrupted coldly.

“..Please Mistress, may I go….”

“Please Mistress may I speak.” She was corrected again

“..Please Mistress may I speak?”

“You may.” The amusement was evident in the heavily accented English.

“Please Mistress, may I go to the toilet, I haven’t been since yesterday.”

The two handlers looked her over coolly, talking between themselves again in their own language.

“Possibly later.”

The flat reply, final.

We all looked at each other in distress.

We were leashed together again, but thankfully not cuffed

The two handlers lit cigarettes.

While we waited another girl in a

maids uniform came into the room. She was brunette & incredibly pretty, especially her deep brown eyes

“Good morning, Mistress, good morning Mistress.” She said to each, very prettily. Her accent was odd too, possibly American, but without the confident brashness.

 

They didn’t reply.

She quickly cleared away our old underwear & the discarded tape & left. As she had worked we had all heard the sounds of bells but couldn’t see quite where.

It was time for us to go now. We were led away up about 4 flights of stairs. The thin rubber soles of the tights didn’t protect our feet much mine were soon aching. As we reached the 4th story we were suddenly in a spacious clubhouse restaurant lit by the morning sunlight. In turn we were allocated a station with some other more experienced maids.

“She only speaks English & French.” One of the maids who seemed to be in charge was told.

“Yes Mistress.”

The handler lifted my eyes to hers.

“Be pleasing & obedient, or your Mistress will be informed, after we have finished punishing you. Do you

understand”

I was quite terrified, by the threat & the threatening manner it was relayed to me.

“Yes Mistress.”

“Write down any complaints.” The maid in charge was told ominously

“Yes Mistress.”

At that I was left, with the other maids.

There was no time to ask any questions or gossip. We were set to efficiently, laying out tables, smoothing & folding napkins hurriedly. I noticed all the girls had bells. A peek told me that they had fingernail

  sized bells on at least one nipple. She caught me looking & smiled blushing. Guiltily I blushed too.

The restaurant was already filling up. The Cliffside Rooms overlooking the sea were always popular in the morning. Not the least because new slaves were often put to work here on their first morning.

I was soon put to work hurrying back & forth, with coffee’s, teas, croissants, cooked meats. The full English was surprisingly popular with these ladies who looked like they’d never eaten more than a grape. My  rudimentary French, was soon put to the test, thankfully I remembered more than I thought I had. We weren’t allowed to stop for an instant before exquisitely dressed  fresh customers, replaced replenished   exquisitely dressed  departing customers. After about 2 hours I was quite literally panting. Thankfully the traffic began to slow down, as some customers only wanted

coffee’s & fresh ashtrays.

Two French ladies detained me. I stopped alarmed.

“Look how frightened she is.”

“How fetching.”

One of the women cupped my left breast & popped it out of

  my dress, fondling the nipple casually until it was erect.

“Look how sweet she isn’t belled yet.”

The other lowered my panties & split my labia feeling my clitoris.

“Nor here, how nice are you new?”

I was bright red with embarrassment in the middle of the restaurant.

“Yes Mistress.”

She continued fondling my clitoris. Her other finger probed my vagina playing with my ben wah balls.

“Do you know who your owner is yet girl?”

“My owner?” I asked innocently to their barely contained amusement

“Do you know who your Mistress is to be yet girl?”

“Mistress Helen.” I told them.

This was met with icy laughter.

“Of course she is my dear.” They both laughed.

She pulled up my panties & lifted her wet finger to my lips. For a second I hesitated unsure, what she wanted.

“You are new aren’t you girl, it wont clean itself.” She said haughtily.

“Yes Mistress, I’m sorry Mistress.” I whispered frightened, licking it clean.

They exchanged some quick words in French far too quick for me.

“On your way now girl.”

“Yes Mistress Thank you Mistress.” I said to each anxiously, spending the rest of the morning fretfully worrying if I would be punished for my delay in cleaning her finger.

The brisk trade had really died down now. I was tasked with taking down tray after tray off dirty cups & plates down to the kitchens.

They were extremely hot & steamy. The best professional chefs, all women were working away already preparing lunch. All the kitchen assistants were nude, working away. I delivered tray after tray of dirty plates to 2 naked girls working on a mountain of dishes. Then I was put to work cleaning & polishing the tables, before laying fresh tablecloths & freshly laying the cutlery again. I saw one of my other companions, from the night before  bringing fresh flowers to the tables. She smiled weakly, nervously at

me, I dared a tiny wave back. She seemed to pale with fright. I didn’t dare wave at anyone again.

The floor was to be scrubbed & polished next, on all fours, I was beginning to appreciate why everywhere was so obsessively immaculate.

When that was done we fussed about correcting tiny imperfections on the tables, watched by a couple Handlers lolling at another table smoking & already drinking small glasses of beer. We seemed to be neurotically fussing over & over what we had fussed over already. But none of the experienced maids slackened any, so we didn’t dare stop.

After an hour or so just as the first lunch guests started to arrive, in trickles. We seven were rounded up & led away to another part of The Cliffside Rooms. A bar area, where there was already a number of exquisitely dressed ladies drinking wine, beers, shorts or just coffees & teas. The view out of the window was absolutely stunning, if you had time to stop & look. Which we didn’t. there was also outside tables, & it was an absolute but short lived delight to step into the fresh air momentarily. It was non stop here too. I was gasping with thirst, The only taste in my mouth my own juices. Nobody seemed to care though. Occasionally one of the drinkers would stop me & fondle me briefly, in full view of everybody before patting my backside & sending me on my way. I don’t think I’d ever been more, aware of my sexuality & how it was for the beholder, rather than me

  & mortified by that before today.

After another couple of hours Myself & the other 6 were led into a more discreet part of the bar. I was handed the carved wooden box containing what I had once thought were my shoes. I was told to take them to a woman sitting facing the window. Holding the box in both hands like an offering I went to the Mistress. She was stunningly elegant.

For a moment quite taking my breath away.

“Put them there.” She told me in French.

I did so placing the box on the table

“Open the box.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She leaned over examining the shoes, quite distracted herself by their hand crafted loveliness. She looked up briefly

“Oh, a glass of Chateau Lafitte, quickly girl.”

“Yes Mistress.” I hurried to fetch her, her wine, not realizing one glass was about 300 euros.

When I returned she was less engrossed in the shoes. She took the wine & examined me.

“Come closer.” She instructed.

As I did she slipped her fingers inside my panties then lowered them. Sitting as she was I was looking down at her eyes but I had no doubt who was on top here. She fondled my clitoris & played with my intimacies, toying with the ben wah balls, in both my vagina & anus.

“You may kneel.” She told me leaving my panties just above my knees

I did so.

She slipped both of my breasts out of the maids dress & fondled their pert plumpness & my now erect nipples, in the process smearing my juices all over them. Then wiping her finger dry on my apron. She leaned back,

Leaving me kneeling there in a state of undress.

“I think I’m very pleased with both of my purchases.” She told me.

“Your purchases, Mistress?” I asked her naively.

She looked at me.

“I am your new owner girl.”

“My owner.” I repeated stunned

“But what about Mistress Helen?” I asked

“What about her?” She asked quizzically then burst into laughter

“Oh dear, hasn’t she told you?”

“Told me?”

“Helen is a slave trader, & a very good one at that.”

“But what if I don’t want to be a

slave, nobody told me anything about this.”

She laughed again a little more coolly this time.

Then she stopped another maid & ordered another glass of wine, keeping me at her feet.

“Do you think you have any choice in the matter now?” she asked me coldly

I had seen the drivers & the bodyguards deal with any & all trouble. Heard the stories about dropped lawsuits, Members of Parliaments fully on side. I remembered the consent form mistress Helen had, had me sign a few days before, suddenly feeling now rather foolish. Even if I could escape the Spa, & the South of France, where could I run to. They would have the police & CCTV monitors on their side.

The local & international networks. My fingerprints & DNA were in their files. I suddenly realised the last 2 years of my life had been leading up to this moment.

I looked up at her in tears, defeat already evident in my eyes. If she was pleased by my quickness she didn’t show it. Then again slave girls aren’t bought for their alertness. As long as they are bright in their service, that suffices.

“No Mistress.”

“A slave isn’t supposed to want her slavery.”

“Besides, which I think you will make a lovely slave, I think I will give you the English name,

emily for now.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you.” That was that I was now

emily

“Mistress how much did you pay for me

?.”

She laughed scornfully

“A

slaves vanity, less than for these lovely shoes, emily.”

“But how much Mistress?” I was desperate to know

“About the price of a bottle of this stuff.” She said knocking back her glass casually.

As if to emphasise the point snapping her fingers for another one.

I felt utterly tricked  & shamed. Deceived & trapped like a silly girl, like the silly girl I was. I didn’t know that a bottle was  over a 1000 euros. Nor that I had cost quite a bit more than the wine. But not much compared to the shoes.

& nothing to her wealth, absolutely nothing.

“Tell me

emily, have you been whipped yet?”

“No Mistress.”

“A good obedient slave is a well disciplined slave

,.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“& one who fears her owner”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Excellent I intend to beat your legs

  raw tonight”

“Yes Mistress.” I looked up in tears

“Before you serve me intimately”

“Yes Mistress.”

She reached out & lowered my head

“Keep your eyes lowered now

emily, unless given permission to raise them above belt level.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“& do not refer to free persons by their names, in public you may refer to me as My Mistress, in private Mistress will do.”

“Yes My Mistress.”

“Excellent you are learning already”

“Thank you My Mistress.”

“You may start to refer to yourself as

emily or ‘this girl’ now, rather than I or me, do you understand?”

“

emily understands My Mistress.”

“Excellent.”

One of the Handlers was summoned.

“You may deliver her later.”

I was taken away. Thankfully I was given a brief second, allowed to replace my panties

.. Back to the restaurant, there was still a long afternoon of service & chores, ahead for me.

The afternoon passed without incident. Except in my own fraught mind, that I was intensely aware of the handlers watching me. On reflection I don’t think they were watching me particularly intently. I was just extremely self conscious & it was their job to discipline & punish us. So it was natural to be afraid of them. They clearly relished that fear & obedience. In spite of my apprehension I found their easy dominance thrilling if not attractive. They seemed to have stationed me near the toilets. I don’t know why or

  whether this was intentional or not. But every time a customer passed me on the way to the conveniences I felt the sharp pain & horrible spasm & then the deep ache in my bowels.

Then the Handlers changed & the two women from last night took their seats. There wasn’t a designated place, they sat where they pleased or was free. As I would understand later, they work shifts & had only just had breakfast.

One of them snapped her fingers I was to fetch them two ice cold lager beers.

Good morning Mistress, good morning Mistress.”

“Oh look its one of the pee pee girls.”

  One said to the other.

 “Oh yes.” They laughed at my obvious discomfort.

“None of you went pee

pee in the kennel did you?”

“No Mistress.”

“Have you been allowed to go pee

pee this morning?” She asked me I didn’t hear the cruel tone of her voice.

“No Mistress.”

“Did you remember to tell the morning shift they didn’t go pee

pee last night?” She asked the other.

Their voices were so lovely & warm as they talked to each, contrasting deliciously with the cool cruelty in their tongues as it was directed to me.

As if to emphasise her question she ran her gloved finger along my crotch, pressing my urethra, through my satiny panties. This also had the effect of spreading the moistness generated by my ben wah balls around my panties.

“I must have forgotten.” She said exaggeratedly

“Oh never mind, it isn’t important.”

She looked down at some notes on the small PDA she held.

“You don’t mind do you…

emily?”

“No Mistress.” I said in agony.

“I think ‘pee pee girl’ is better for you today, isn’t it pee

pee girl?”

“Yes Mistress.”

 

“It isn’t important, is it pee pee girl

?, you aren’t important are you slave?”

“No Mistress.” I said humiliated.

My panties were sopping now, she removed her finger & gave me it to lick,

I didn’t hesitate this time. I paled with fright as I thought I tasted a spot of urine along with my more smelly wetness

“Oh look she is quite wet.”

Laughter

“You didn’t wet yourself did you slave.”

“No Mistress.”

“Who didn’t wet herself slave”

“pee

pee girl didn’t wet herself Mistress.”

Laughter.

“Oh I see you didn’t hesitate to clean your

betters fingers this time.”

My earlier misdemeanour hadn’t gone unnoticed or unreported, they rarely are.

I was trembling.

“Your owner has already been

informed, however we don’t want to spoil her first enjoyment of your discipline.”

They waited while the relief flooded into my face.

“Further punishment

  can wait until after she has sated that pleasure, at least initially.”

“& you are no longer whip virgin.” The other clarified seeing my confusion & fluster.

“Yes Mistress.”

“Don’t

worry, you will be adequately punished, for that earlier transgression.”

“Yes mistress.”

“& for the spot of urine you can taste & thought to hide from us.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“& for your disrespectful lie.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.” I was in tears now

“Good girl.”

“Now if you will excuse me, I must go pee

pee myself.”

She stood up & walked towards the toilet, I looked after her aghast.

“emi… pee

pee girl, go away now, back to your chores.” The other told me dismissively.

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”

I hurried away back to serving.

When the first Mistress came back out of the toilets she stared at me smiling, satisfied as she resumed her seat.

The early afternoon rush  was over. & we were put to work tidying & cleaning again. There was a steady stream of afternoon tea & cream cake customers to serve. Plus the 2 handlers seemed to have decided that I was to fetch them beers for the afternoon. For the rest of the afternoon calling out across the restaurant, ‘pee pee girl, come here’, ‘pee pee girl do this’ ‘pee pee girl fetch that’, To the evident cruel amusement of the other guests, & the horror of the other maids but especially my 6 companions.

The shout of ‘pee pee girl’ cutting through my urethra like a red hot wire.

Eventually as the afternoon waned, we 7 were rounded up & led away. Back down the seemingly ritual circumnavigation of the service corridor system.

Down to the basement rooms.

We were instructed to strip. Our ben wah balls were removed. Then horribly one by one we were belled & disked. One by one the handlers went to each of us & with a pliers type device. Our nipples were seized & then pinioned by the device, there was a burning smell as the stainless steel ring heated up to cause instant cauterizing. The first girl screamed & was violently slapped across her mouth. She didn’t scream again. Not as the metal went white hot. Nor when the pliers were closed, closing the burning ring in her sizzling flesh with a sickeningly  loud click. Nor when her other nipple was done. & nor when her clitoris was done, belled and disked with her owners details Nor did any of us.

Though I screamed silently inside. The handler seemed to take delight in keeping my eyes locked in hers as she belled me. But that was probably again just my imagination. I was nothing special, just another slave.

It was all I or any of the girls could do, to not wet ourselves with fright as we listened to the other girls being belled. All I could do not to wet myself as the hot metal rings sizzled through my nipples, through my clitoris. But in our terror we hadn’t dared. After we had all been belled we stood there shaking as the hot metal cooled slowly in our flesh, between our legs, trembling in shock & fright. Our quivering making the bells chime prettily in the silence. The Handlers, having a smoke after the belling watched us amused

  

Then finally now that it was painful, & unpleasant for us to do so, the toilet was unlocked & we were allowed to go pee

pee & toilet in general.

The handlers watching & laughing at us. Talking to each other in Danish, the words pee

pee the only ones we understood.

Then we were bent over holding our ankles. A leather loop holding our limbs tightly  together. One by one a tube was inserted in our vagina & anus. A stingily hot, but not scalding  enema & douche was administered. We were made to stand holding the liquid in place for 30 minutes. This was far worse than not being permitted to pee pee. We were all sobbing after about 10 minutes. The handlers watched over us disinterested. Except to instruct us to sob quietly. While they prepared a number of black leather & rubber devices. Just tantalisingly out of a

  clear line of sight.

Finally we were allowed one by one to go to the toilet again. The first girl emptying her bowels. Then being instructed to quickly wash herself, while we waited. After she was washed she was pecker gagged. Hooded in a tight & seemingly sealed, however it was breathable, just about, black leather bag hood & her wrists & ankles bound in tight leather cuffs. Then leashed.

& left kneeling against the wall. It was then the next girls turn. Her leash attached around the neck of the first.

I was sixth, & & still felt desperately sorry for the seventh. It was horrible & terrifying in the hood, completely blind & nearly airless. Breathing the hot air, mixed as it was by the scent of leather & my perspiration. Choking & panting for breath as best I could. It suddenly occurred to me as I was leashed to the fifth girl. That I might never see any of them again. They

all having been bought by different Mistresses. & that I didn’t even know their names, either their original names or their new slave names. This made me incredibly tearful for some completely disproportionate reason. The seventh girl was attached to me & we were led away after a short wait.

If traversing the service corridors & stairs was difficult bound, it was incredibly  arduous & confusing being hooded. The only reason I didn’t stumble & fall, was pure fear, of what might happen if I did.

& how much the Handlers might enjoy that.

After what seemed to be an eternity we emerged into what again felt like sunlight & pushed into the back of a car, sitting facing each other. Uncomfortable perched forwards by the shortness of the leashes. Then after a long delay.

Another authoritative female voice.

“No, no this will never do.”

A definite German accent this time.

“Where will we sit, I don’t want to sit with these bitches, smelling their fear.”

There was a brief discussion & we were ordered & dragged out. Then pushed & lifted, thankfully assisted stumbling into the boot of the car. The boot was closed & the car started. However we still waited while the Handlers chatted & smoked with the driver, enjoying the sunshine.

           

When we did drive off, I experienced overwhelming spasms of sheer panicky terror. The only think stopping me vomiting with fear was the thought of it swilling around in my hood.

If it got past my gag without choking me that is. As it was I was glad not to have wet myself.

The car stopped & the boot opened, a hand went between my legs. In humiliation I realised they were reading, my owners disk. It was dropped. The hand went elsewhere, then elsewhere again. Finally a girl was selected & lifted out. I could tell she was trembling terribly, like I was. The boot was closed & after what seemed like a lengthy delay, we drove off again This was repeated 4 more times until finally I was lifted out.

& led up some steps.

A door opened.

I heard the respectful voice of a slavegirl. She seemed inordinately frightened by the handlers. Not having been exposed to them for a while. I later learned that this was not the case & even private slavegirl feared the Handlers with good reason. She also seemed surprised. Obviously she had not been told or consulted about my arrival, about My/Our Mistress’s new slave until now. She offered the handlers refreshment. It was curtly declined & they left. Still leashed I was led further inside,

then left kneeling pressed up & facing a wall.

I heard some rustling as she examined my paperwork.

“Welcome…emily, this girl is called amelia.” She kissed my cheek through the hood

“& this one is called kirsty.” Another girl told me, also kissing me.

“Mistress will be home soon.” They told me. They were both speaking French, one I think  was French, actually she was Belgian

  the other I think sounded Canadian, once again without the confidence usually present in that accent. At least their voices were friendly, welcoming. Naturally we were all inferiors here.

They left me kneeling there quietly while I listened to them at their housework & chores, waiting for Mistress.

Mistress didn’t seem to be in any hurry to come home. In fact it was late in the evening when she arrived. As soon as the two girls heard the door open they rushed to the inner door, leading me blindly on my leash & knelt with me there. From the sounds I guessed they were kissing her boots or shoes. Following their cue I bent my hooded face over where I

  guessed, luckily for me correctly, her feet were & touched my gagged lips to them. She seemed satisfied by this, allowing me to kiss her feet as best I could. I wondered if she was wearing the red shoes. As it later turned out she wasn’t.

“kirsty take emily to the stocks. Amelia

bring me a glass of wine & come & help me undress”

“Yes Mistress”

“At once Mistress.”

          

Kirsty led me through the house, she was stroking my behind soothingly. I knew this wasn’t good sign, not in the least. I was locked bent over in a heavy wooden device. My ankles were released then  strapped & buckled apart.

  A thin leather strap was passed around my waist securing my wrists on their cuffs up there too.

Mistress came to inspect kirsty’s work. A riding crop was pressed between my now trembling buttocks.

“You wont have any trouble holding that will you

emily?” she asked, not expecting a reply, I nodded desperately in the hood.

“

kirsty, amelia come and bathe me, amelia bring the bottle of wine.

“Yes Mistress.”

I was left there frightened for quite some time. Then Mistress came back down. The 2 slaves were very quiet. I could sense they were almost as frightened as me.

She took the whip from my buttocks. I heard it slicing through the air in practise. Then once more striking fire into my buttocks. I screamed into the gag. Even through the gag & hood my distress was evident. & pleasing to Mistress. The stripe seemed to burn & swell, erupting into a spasm of pain. Then just as it seemed to be at its height, she struck again, & again with perfectly spaced timing. I was squealing into the gag. Aware of nothing but my pain. My desire to escape, to run to cringe & hide from the blows but I was held perfectly. Writhing in pain, my legs on fire. 20 viciously aimed blows. Then she struck me between my legs. Flatly & brutally across my clitoris & anus. I shrieked & squealed into the gag in agony, then another, five in total. Then another ten across my exposed inner back thighs & buttocks. Just as it had started to swell in inflamed puffy tenderness, seemingly cutting into my flesh like a knife into butter.

Another ten stinging blows like tormenting blisters, especially where the blows criss crossed each other.

Then she thankfully she stopped. Releasing me from the stock she pressed me to the floor & unhooded me.

Then ungagged me. I kissed her feet in fear & pain, in total obeisance to her. She pressed the whip to my lips. I covered it in tearful kisses.

“You may thank me emily.”

I realised I was expected to thank her for beating me.

“Mistress, thank you for disciplining me…”

“

thank you for disciplining emily.” She corrected me.

“Mistress, thank you for disciplining emily. For buying m..

emily & for welcoming emily to your house. Emily hopes you will find her pleasing.”

“Oh I’m sure I will

emily.” She said pressing the whip to my tear soaked face.

“Yes Mistress.” I sobbed

“Unless you want to be whipped again.”

“No Mistress.”

She went over to her couch and sat down.

“Come here.”

  She said indicating a spot at her feet.

She was wearing a pure cream silk negligee, & robe, that looked that if anything it cost more than the red shoes. The other two girls were completely naked. Apart from I suppose their bells & makeup. They were both naturally white blonde like me, council estate blonde Mistress Helen had once called it, some sort of historical reference I suppose.

My legs and buttocks were red, pink & puffy discoloured by bruising but the skin wasn’t broken in any way, despite feeling like it had been ripped into strips.

I went over & knelt at her feet. She opened her legs, obviously aroused by my punishment.

“Do you want to be pleasing

emily?”

To my own surprise I blurted “Yes Mistress ever so much.”

I still don’t know where that came from, or why I was so candid

All I know is that I was suddenly so emotionally overcome with submissiveness & desire to please her.

“Good girl.”

  She was pleased I could tell from her voice & the pat on my hair.

She pulled me into her groin, under the cream canopy of her negligee. It suddenly felt like a wedding canopy. She was quite hot & aroused, tasting creamy & musky, almost fermented. Her clitoris was incredibly engorged. I licked her slowly, steadily. Stopping to kiss at her inner lips her inner thighs, & lick at her anus, before resuming my slow steady pace.

She told kirsty to fetch

her another wine

My wrists were still bound tightly behind me, as she came clasping my head tightly between her surprisingly strong thighs.

Much stronger than I had ever felt before. I was spluttering for breath under her the negligee. She was moaning & shivering happily, holding me there for quite some time as her muscles spasms faded.

She lifted her skirt & told me to lick her thighs clean. I did so as she drank her wine.

In tears I pleaded

  “Mistress will emily be permitted to come?”

“

kirsty & amelia come & kneel here.”

They obeyed.

“My girls, are rarely permitted to orgasm, it keeps you so much more anxious to be pleasing, doesn’t it girl.”

“Yes Mistress.” They both replied in harmony.

“& it adds to my pleasure having you squirm so wetly at my feet, while I orgasm.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“However tonight, to welcome you, & to indulge my two girls, you will climax them, for my pleasure.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She opened a small casket by the side of her couch & produced what looked like a massive black double ended strap on. It wasn’t it was a massive double ended dildo gag.

With it pushed into my mouth I was almost stifling & choking on the ribbed veined monster. She closed the strap securing it in place.

Kirsty first from behind, & upwards I dildoed her with the strap on. Almost straight away she was moaning helplessly.

“Take your time

emily, & press more deeply, I want to enjoy her moaning.”

I was choking with each thrust, but I obeyed nonetheless. My face was covered with hers & Mistresses juices. It was starting to leak down over my breasts, when she came after 20 minutes. Gasping & crying loudly. She lifted herself off me,

then knelt at Mistresses feet kissing them gratefully.

“Thank you Mistress, thank you Mistress, she was sobbing & crying. With a shock I realized she was still in multiple

orgasm. I suddenly thought how lovely it must be to kiss her feet like that. & how much more lovely it must be for Mistress to have her feet kissed like that.

I went to amelia and did her even more slowly, more firmly.

Until she came & was similarly & completely undone kissing the Mistress’s feet.

“

kirsty lick the dildo clean.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She did so incredibly sensuously, wonderfully simulating fellatio on the rubber phallus. I think if I had been a boy or man I would have been unable to stop myself coming after a few seconds. She kept her deep blue eyes in mine as she did so. Lovingly & vulnerable. Naively

  I wondered, why Mistress wanted it licked clean.

I soon found out as I was summoned between her  knees again. I made love to her with the dildo, exquisitely slowly & deliberately. After 30 minutes she came to me again. Then to my surprise she wanted it in her anus too. I don’t know why I was so surprised

It was for her pleasure after all. She orgasmed again & again with me pressing the phallus deeply into her anal passage.

I was released from the dildo gag after that. So I too could kiss her feet & thank her for allowing me to please her. Then to lick clean her sticky soaked thighs. I noticed the dildo gag wasn’t cleaned again. & that its double ended ness was completely reversible, before it was put away, still damply sticky

She sat there quietly, listening to music, for a while after that, while kirsty & amelia fetched her wine and smokes.

  I was left kneeling between her knees, contentedly but hopelessly wet.

The evening had already turned to night, when Mistress, produced a small vial of ersatz amphetamine & cocaine powder for herself.

& snorted it. Then from the trunk she produced a strap on of her own. I was pushed face down into the couch & quite roughly raped frontally. As she came, from the movement of the strap on against her clitoris I was informed that I was not to come. Gasping with disbelief & humiliation I obeyed nonetheless. Then she raped me anally equally violently. Then my mouth, Mistress ramming the phallus home while I cried & wept at the forcefulness of her thrusts. When she was done she slapped me hard across the face.

“You will be a good little bitch wont you

emily?”

“Yes Mistress.” I sobbed

“Good slave.”

All three of us were led to her bedroom. Kirsty & amelia had a large candy pink cushion to sleep on

  a small cage in the corner, complete with red leather curtains, & love-heart shaped padlock. I was instructed to wait on the bed, while Mistress went for quick shower.

“Welcome slavegirl

emily” they whispered smiling up to me from the cushion, they were already curled up with each other. I wondered how it would feel with all three of us.

Mistress returned from the shower with a fresh negligee & slipped into bed, she patted the bed besides her at waist level. I was still cuffed but I knelt quickly there. She opened her legs again & pulled me in. then closed the silk sheets over my head. After she had come again I was simply pushed from the bed & onto the floor.

Amelia made a space for me, between her & kirsty in the cage. Sometimes this is locked & curtained sometimes not

The automatic lights dimmed even further, then into complete darkness as they picked up on Mistresses snoring.

On the cushion I was crying. Kirsty was kissing & wiping my tears away &

amelia was stroking my back soothingly. I was crying with misery & happiness.

In the morning I was awake first, my arms were aching from the constricted position terribly. Plus I still hadn’t got used to not being able to pee when I wanted. I guess that would take some time. What I didn’t know  was that  Mistresses, often punished her girls by not allowing them to toilet for days at a time. The other two were sleeping & mistress was snoring quite loudly for such a refined lady. I lay there for I don’t know how long, just blankly thinking about the last 48 hours. I didn’t even think about London, that was gone to me now. Kirsty stirred next, she looked at me & mouthed, good morning, then pushed

amelia in the back gently to wake her.

They took me downstairs to the basement behind a laundry room. There was a small tiled room with a locked toilet lid, a basin, enema equipment, & some other slave paraphernalia. They released me from the cuffs at last. & all three of us washed quickly. In the single mirror we fixed our hair & makeup.

I had so many questions. But they shushed me frightened. Seeing my puzzled look

amelia, made a camera zooming gesture.

As if to emphasise

this a cold no less menacing for its bodiless presence voice announced.

“Be quiet slaves, enough of your worthless gossiping.”

Suddenly I understood all too well.

The CCTV systems were installed all over the Spa. In each & every nook & cranny you could imagine & more besides. So that the activities of the slaves cold be monitored & strictly controlled. There were degrees of monitoring according to individual preference. For example in the Cliffside Restaurant & other public areas there was complete monitoring. However the Mistresses faces were blanked out permanently. This was not just for their privacy but protect them from any criminal proceedings. If & this had never yet happened a recording of a crime fell into the wrong hands. For example although this was rare slaves had been killed accidentally, & one at least one occasion on purpose.

& while these events were never even reported to the authorities. It always paid to be watertight.

The 2nd level was full recording until the Mistress returned home, then it was turned completely off automatically. The 3rd  & most popular level was recording of all rooms unless Mistress is present then it was turned off automatically. A

Mistress, could turn recording on again for her own private consumption on demand. For example my 1st beating was recorded & passed around to Mistresses friends. Also doing the rounds were pictures of girls being branded. This was gradually growing in popularity, either on the buttocks or feet.

It was impossible to tell where the camera were installed in the room, so impossible to hide, with any degree of confidence any activity from them. Mostly the

camera were monitored by software. But this was incredibly accurate & relayed any infractions, or possibly infractuous behaviour, or behaviour that might indicate infractuous thoughts, or emotions, immediately to the handlers. They could then instruct, rebuke or correct the errant slavegirls via the houses multimedia systems. Obviously then sending a report to the Mistress.

Otherwise the Handlers could visit the premises in person, to administer corporal punishment. & the Handlers were constantly patrolling the public & private spaces,

Obviously in accordance with the Mistresses wishes. Turning up where & when they liked, unannounced to the slaves. They might stay for just a few minutes or stay for a cup of tea, served by the terrified house slave.

In this respect they were very similar to the religious police in some older religious countries or the secret police in an authoritarian state. The fear of them inspired a quite justified terror & total obedience.

We were to get dressed. Mistresses livery was quite pretty. Black sheer & shiny like latex underwear, including garter belt & stockings. A tiny maids uniform made out of  an even more plasticky satiny material, than the public maids uniforms. It was split into a bodice top & skirt, these touched barely joining at the midriff. The lace frills at all the edges were all black. We had a tiny black lace headpiece, fingerless gloves & tiny lace socks, to provide just a little traction for our stockinged feet. The only white item was the apron.

Which in itself was so small as to be a hint of rather than item of clothing. We looked each other over. Whereas the public maids outfits were quite trashy & slutty, these were trashy & delicately pretty too, but no less demeaning & slutty.

We set about cleaning the house. It was still an hour before we were to wake Mistress.

Then while I continued to clean. Amelia & kirsty prepared coffee & breakfast. We all took it into the bedroom together. I slipped under the sheets to wake Mistress with my tongue. I had been told to be very, very careful & loving, as Mistress was often quite irritable in the morning. Many a beating had started first thing & my backside was still throbbing & smarting, as it would for a good couple of days.

As She woke under my tongue, amelia served coffee & kirsty offered her, her first cigarette of the day. They both wished her a good morning. She said nothing to them.

Holding me painfully by a fistful of hair until she came. Then when she subsided simply pushing me aside she went into the bathroom.

My own quite pathetic tearful good morning was unheard

Kirsty was to stay & help Mistress bathe, & dress. Amelia & I

  went downstairs to continue our chores.

Mistress ate breakfast quietly, sitting on her veranda, reading her morning paper. Ewe were careful not to disturb as we performed or chores Then after she had supervised the cleansing & refreshing the gel on our ben wah balls, impatiently, she left for the day. She had barely said a word to us. We worked diligently & quietly non stop. To the accompaniment of Mistresses choice of music for us, forlorn female love songs, of unrequited or rejected love, heartbroken songs of love, all simple & trampy R&B or folk songs. All on reflection quite pathetic & dependant needful ditties. Reducing us frequently to tears as we worked along to the internal rhythm of the ben wahs. All the floors, surfaces, furniture, cutlery, crockery, everything  had to be scrubbed & polished, regardless of whether they were in the least bit dirty or not. Every so often the music would be interrupted by the hidden cameras would emit an intrusive

  & completely unnecessary, fake whirring or zooming noise, or a time/date stamp signal. This would alarm us greatly, causing us to double or triple our efforts. All the clocks in the house were blank as were the electronic calendars. The message was crystal clear the time of the day, or the time of the week or year was of no concern to us.

Mid morning the music stopped an announcement was made. A cold stern female voice, it was actually impossible to tell whether the voice was human or software.

The questions not expecting a reply.

“

emily stop dawdling slave”

Then silence & the music resumed again. I was horrified & terribly afraid scrubbing the floor feverishly.

Midday

“

kirsty why are you working so slowly.”

Mid afternoon.

“

amelia hurry girl, there are plenty more chores.”

Sometime later.

“

emily do you think your Mistress, will be satisfied with that floor?”

Constantly & randomly cajoling us.

None of us knowing whether we were being watched by the software or a vigilant Handler. When the house was spotless top to bottom, usually sometime before midday we started again, constantly fussing after the tiniest details.

We were kept constantly monitored. Mistresses were often away for a few days at a time. Sometimes a week or longer. If it was a longer than a week, we would be allocated to the public work teams. Gardening or cleaning the streets, painting, any number of public tasks, dressed only in work boots & gloves  & otherwise nude. Or allocated to one of the many cafes, restaurants or bars.

Perhaps in one of the massage or health spas. Mistress was usually away for a month twice a year, holidaying elsewhere. Whether serving privately or publicly we were kept constantly busy, given no respite, from dawn till dusk 7 days a week.

Mistress was mostly out all day. She would arrived home sometime after dark. We knelt at her feet kissing her shoes lovingly. Lovingly & submissively glad of her presence. On the first day I was instructed to bathe her, while amelia brought her wine. Kirsty was left still busy at her chores. It varied of course according to her whim. Then after bathing, drying & pampering her,

She would supervise our evening routine in her house coat.

She would watch our cleaning & feeding sitting enjoying a snack or cigarette & wine. We were thankfully allowed  to toilet & administer our own enemas. She just instructed us as to when, we were allowed to release. Then we were given, from her hand, not permitted to use our hands, fed a sticky biscuit each. The small biscuit was sickeningly sweet, quite nauseatingly so. It had to be chewed, masticated thoroughly before being swallowed, or it caused unbearable stomach cramps. Consisting of a congealed nutrient jelly, that provided all our dietary needs but generated very little faecal waste. A couple of dry pea shaped stools per week, at the very most. We were each given a bowl of plain water to drink. Lapping it from the floor like animals or beasts.

   

After we had cleaned ourselves & once again refreshed the ben wah balls, we  dressed each other in tiny black lacy baby dolls. We then dressed her in elegant evening wear. Then she would depart leaving us to prepare the house for her return

Preparing wine & small treats, lighting scented candles, plumping cushions. When all this was done we were to wait in her bedroom cage, closing & locking the gate behind us with the curtain automatically closing. We were to wait on her return. From the behaviour of the other girls I knew not to relax or be slovenly in the cage. We knelt together waiting quietly, knowing we would be under close scrutiny at the very least by the monitoring software.

Mistress returned quite late, from an opera  or the theatre, she didn’t feel the need to say.

& was a little tired. She had me kneel between her legs while she drank wine in bed. Then we were all dismissed to the cage & cushion while she slept.

In the morning I woke her again, before breakfast was served & I started on my chores. I like the other girls began to crave every second in her presence, aching for her return in the evenings. The next evening I was whipped again, without being given a reason. I wasn’t selected to serve her that night or to wake her the next day. A couple of days later amelia was whipped, then amelia again. Then kirsty. I was increasingly lost in love with her, like her other two slaves, desperately smitten by Mistress. One evening after Mistress hadn’t chosen me, or even seemingly noticed me  for a couple of days. I brought the whip to her in my mouth & begged to be beaten, for any failing that had caused her to be displeased with me. She obliged me with the whip but spurned me coolly again. She was simply not interested in me at that moment in time. It wasn’t the first or last time I had been so forlorn & hopeless that I had begged to be whipped,

nor the last she had obliged.

On another occasion, after amelia had been spurned for 3 days while I had been mistresses temporary favourite, or in flavour.  She had informed Mistress of her jealous accusation, of chores neglected mixed with her emotional charges. Mistress listened to her annoyances coolly, then whipped her soundly, & then whipped me for good measure. On another occasion Only I was whipped after being unfairly accused by kirsty.

These petty jealousies were encouraged & exploited for Mistresses amusement Mistress was utterly capricious, arbitrarily punishing us. After a whipping we girls always forgave each other tearfully, realising how silly & jealous we had been with each other. This didn’t take the sting of the whip away though. Indeed such powerless exculpation made the smarting seem worse.

In my first week at Mistresses house the Handlers called.

I was put in the stocks & whipped, by one while the other was fetched refreshment, then the other. I completely lost count of the lashes. Mistress was to beat me later too. The punishment was filmed for Mistress & also for the ladies from the restaurant. This was streamed live to them. When I had been released from the stocks & was grovelling at the Handlers boots. I had to thank the Handlers for my punishment.

Then the two Mistresses from the restaurant. They could obviously see me in great detail. All I heard were their voices.

“I can see that you are prettily belled now.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”

“Is your bottom very sore?”

“Yes Mistress.” I was crying.

“Good I think that might suffice for now.”

The conversation was abruptly ended there.

Then I had to thank the two ‘pee pee girl Mistresses, for my punishment. & apologise for my disobedience, trying to hide my disobedience lying about my disobedience, & disrespecting them with my disobedience. This was received in stony silence, a stony silence only broken by the two handlers chatting casually amongst themselves as they partially listened to my sobbed apology. For a dreadful moment I feared I would be beaten again.

My relief was short lived, as my fears were well founded. I was sent back to the stocks & gagged this time with my panties. Then my punishment was continued. This time they instructed me as to the nature of my misbehaviour. & how unacceptable this was, how these lapses would not be tolerated. Between each lash. I had to repeat & accept & recant my misbehaviour my disobedience. Sobbing mumbling into the pantie gag. Once again the two handlers took turns.

One watching then the other repeating my punishment. In the background I could hear the two Danish Handlers remotely chatting, disinterested as they watched.

When they were finished I was left gagged with my panties & simply sent back to resume my chores. Kirsty &

amelia had been terrified. They had not dared try to keep count, but estimated about 200 lashes. That being said however my punishment was in no way unusual or severe. The Handlers are feared & obeyed for very good reasons.

That evening Mistress sent me straight to the stocks. I was left there Pecker gagged & hooded, clutching the whip between my buttocks.

While she went out for the evening. Then she herself beat me on her return. Sobbing terribly I was sent still gagged & hooded, bound, to the cage & left there while she went downstairs to enjoy amelia & kirsty.

 Then one afternoon much later, over the Multimedia system I to my horror heard a familiar voice chiding me.

“pee

pee girl why are you working so slowly”

The pain from that beating had taken over a week to subside. Their voices brought it all back to me & the terrible fear.

After that I had worked feverishly, the floor was scrubbed & polished, like never before. I was bright red with shame.

I might have been flattered or mollified by the attention, except I had remembered the ID tracking pill I had been asked to swallow at the start of my ‘employment’ for my protection.

On more than one occasion we received further visits from the handlers. I fact it was at least every couple of days. Often sitting there drinking tea watching us work, before leaving again without so much as a word, except to demand refreshment. On more than one occasion corporal punishment was doled out, quite sadistically by 2 Handlers enjoying the pain of the girl being punished & the others slaves distress.

On one occasion it was the two Danish handlers, who visited . They stayed nearly all afternoon lounging  around watching me work, calling me ‘pee pee girl’. Once again bringing back the memory of that beating & its fear. & indeed that evening I wasn’t permitted to toilet,

nor the next evening. Mistress was highly amused.

I had been there for over a month, probably nearly two, before I was summoned to Mistresses couch one night. I was on all fours in front of Mistress & amelia went behind me & performed the most incredible cunnilingus. Then she stopped before I came & kirsty took over. She stopped again, just before I thought I might orgasm. I was left begging kissing at Mistresses feet. As amelia started again & then kirsty. To stop my pleading Mistress had gagged me with my soiled panties. Preferring the sound of to my muffled pretty sobs. Then Mistress had lifted my eyes from her feet, raising my chin with her finger, Or was it the tab of her whip, I was rapture I don’t remember, into hers & simply touched me once gently between my legs. I had exploded in helpless multiple orgasm. She pushed my lips back down to her feet & permitted me to kiss them gratefully as I shuddered & cried in rapture & gratitude. After I had subsided I was permitted to fetch her wine & pleasure her again with my tongue. I knew then that I would never again be able to come without her touch or her permission, no matter how desperate & near I came to climax. & I loved her, & that control. I have not yet since been called to the couch at her feet, in that particular.

manner.

My life continued like this for weeks & months, I had completely lost track of the days, even the hours & minutes in her presence. I don’t think I have ever been happier, or more fulfilled, yet vulnerable & fearful at the same time. I loved her, I loved my bondage,

I loved her for keeping me in bondage.

Mistress frequently received visitors at home. We unlike other house slaves were kept strictly for Mistresses intimate use. Though I am told if we are put out to public service that this is relaxed, but we are still not permitted orgasm.

Then one afternoon when Mistress was at home she had a visitor I recognised. I was summoned to fetch them both wine in the lounge. It was Mistress Helen. I had cringed inside

..

I was told to kneel by the couch in case more wine was required

“This girl is one of yours Helen.”

She looked me without recognising me,

then she shrugged.

“Possibly she was. What was your name girl?”

“Adele Mistress.” I told her, almost coyly.

She seemed amused by my reticence.

“I don’t recall an

adele, but you do look like one of my merchandise types.”

“Yes Mistress.”

I realized then that she wasn’t deliberately humiliating me, though it can be difficult to tell. She genuinely didn’t recall me.

“& do you like slavery girl?”

“Yes Mistress.” I didn’t hesitate or fib, such things are easily detectable & punished.

“That’s just as well then isn’t it slavegirl?”

My eyes were stinging with welling tears, humiliated by my admission nonetheless

..

“Yes Mistress”

“You may thank me emily.” The way she hesitated over my name, indicated that

emily like adele was only a temporary name imposed on, not given or owned by me.

“Emily thanks you for enslaving her, Mistress, thank you Mistress.”

“You’re welcome

slave, the pleasure was in any case all ours.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”

I had become very aroused & my flush very evident on my breasts now.

“How pretty.”

Both women laughed.

“More wine emily.” I was told.

“Yes Mistress”

Mistress Helen was relaying a story for my Mistresses amusement. It was a small container full of boys, male models. They had been given a Viagra type injection, while they were displayed, for marketing purposes. Before being trussed up & locked in the shipping container. Bound & bound for foreign markets, so too speak. Unfortunately the Viagra dosage had been way too high & they had been left with permanent & rigid erections for the duration of the journey. This is actually not an uncommon problem, But not this severely. Normally an injection of antidote resolves the problem restoring functionality. But in this case  the dosage had been so high & the tissue held so rigidly erect that the boys had been unable to pass urine at all. Then the shipment had been delayed in transit for 2 weeks, nobody had checked on the containers contents in this time. Apparently on arrival the impatient slave auctioneers had taken advantage of their condition & auctioned them immediately. The boys had sold for unusually high prices. Rather than

  the merchandise having been spoiled by the boys completely inability to become flaccid, ejaculate or pass urine normally again, they had instead sold extremely well. This had the making of opening up a new speciality market, in the female ‘boy toy’ & the much smaller homosexual market especially in the Middle East & the Far East, ‘lady boy’ markets.

“Where was this?”

“Libya

, or Saudi, I think.”

“For the male or female clientele?”

“Both.”

“Tut

tut.”

 

“Poor boys.”

They both laughed.

Apparently Mistress Helen & my Mistress, both had investments in this area

“Poor boys.” The both laughed again

“More wine emily.”

They were guzzling the 1000 Euro’s a bottle back today, already on the 2nd

.

“Yes Mistress.”

My Mistress had made an awful lot of money slave dealing over the years. Also she owned a personnel  recruitment agency for Handlers, based in Holland & Germany, the Benelux countries. This was very profitable  as there was a number of these Spas in Europe & further a field. Catering to lesbian, straight & other tastes for the super rich. & trained staff were always in demand, especially a well/self motivated dominatrix, who genuinely enjoyed their work, their status & power & of course a high salary . These women were selected for their self motivation & their icy beauty. These

  women had also not be found to be too girlishly pretty as they might find their terms & conditions abruptly changed.

There was also the quite small sub market of rich ladies who wished to be dominated, discretely but this was a very discreet & sometimes risky market, for the clientele. Special insurance packages were advisory. & it was advisable to use your own rather than your partners money.

 

They discussed business matters for a short while longer. Discussing slaves like cattle, or more properly chattels.

Kneeling there as they discussed slave dealing I wondered about my fate. I knew I would be sold probably many times, possibly even to foreign buyers in isolated desert harems. & that my youthful beauty had earned me expensive lotions & treatments to keep me as youthful looking well into middle age. When this inevitably faded most slaves like me would end up, sold in bulk to sweated factories, as cheap, if not cheaper than the now outlawed child labour. Or a worse fate

  The consent form I had signed for the Spa, effectively meaning they owned me, for all legal intents & purposes. I had simply legally ceased to exist as an independent free person. In practicality legally I had ceased to exist

Mistress Helen was showing my Mistress some pictures of new prospective slavegirls.

Suddenly I gasped in surprise seeing Candy’s picture.

They both paused. My Mistress exhaling sharply

Mistress Helen looked amused

I felt an ice

  cold shiver of fear running down the small of my back.

“

emily?”

“Yes Mistress.” I asked fearfully.

“Tonight you will be whipped raw for your impertinence.”

“Yes Mistress.

”.

“Then whipped raw again for your disrespect to my friend”

“Yes Mistress.” I wept.

“Oh don’t trouble yourself on my account.” Mistress Helen said sweetly

“Its will be no trouble, at all, not for me.” My Mistress said icily

They tittered.

My Mistress stopped for a few seconds deep in thought

“& you will not be permitted to toilet” She said & paused.

 

“to pee pee,

  until I decide otherwise” She said deriding me cruelly.

“Yes Mistress” I was crying now.

“Stop snivelling slave & fetch us more wine.”

“Yes Mistress”

Flustered & hurriedly I hastened to obey.

 

“Oh not her though.” Mistress Helen said, indicating candy’s picture

“Oh why?”

“She has already been shipped to one of the minor Sultans of Sudan.”

“Oh, do I sense more details?”

”He wanted her circumcised, as are all his slavegirls” meaning clitoris removal

“& his slaveboys are all castrated.”

“Tut

tut.”

“Oh do tell?”

“When she found out she was to be circumcised she sobbed and cried, pleaded so desperately she was so lovely & pathetic, they filmed her.”

They both laughed

“I have the video, of her pleading & her circumcision, with white hot pincers apparently.”

“Oh how brutal.” My Mistress said in mock scandal

“Yes poor girl.”

“Poor girl, do send me the video.”

“Of course.” They both laughed.

I brought the two Mistresses fresh wine.

“Poor girl.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant

  candy, or myself.

They both laughed again.

They were discussing the growing fashion for having slaves branded.

Laughing over the niceties if that be said, of the process, &

  the minutiae of particular anecdotes.

I knelt submissively to one side ready to serve.

It was then my eyes welling with tears. That

  I noticed Mistress was wearing her new red shoes, for the first time.

The end.