The car with the blacked-out windows had been waiting for her when she left the station. A chauffeur in a dark uniform opened the rear door for her after confirming her name, Kirsty Rackham; he said nothing else. She got in, the door closed and lights came on enabling her to see the sumptuous leather seating. The windows were blacked-out and there was an opaque panel that prevented her seeing the driver or where they were going and the only thing in the rear seat was a current national newspaper which Kirsty glanced at during what she guessed was a journey of about forty minutes. She knew only her destination railway station but nothing more about the establishment to which she was headed. She was acutely aware that the whole journey to this point had been carried out with her wearing only a short coat and a pair of shoes and any breeze reminded her of her newly shaved privates. With her attractive face and blonde, bobbed hair, her fairly obvious lack of clothing and court shoes, she met with many sideways glances from newspaper-reading businessmen and disapproving women during her journey; it was a relief to be in the relative safety of the car. This was how she had been ordered to travel and, with trepidation, she had carried out the instructions to the letter.
Eventually, the car stopped and the door was opened, she squinted in the sunlight as she got out. The driver closed the door behind her and without another word, resumed his place behind the wheel before driving the car away down the gravel drive, leaving Kirsty facing the front door of a large late-Tudor mansion. She wasted no time and with excitement and trepidation building she climbed the five steps up onto the columned porch and approached the door, her letter of introduction removed from her coat pocket.
There was a large door knocker in the shape of a lion with a ring held in its mouth and she reached up and lifted the ring, letting it drop against the metal striker plate. The noise was huge and she could hear it echo through what she assumed must be a large hall inside. She knocked three more times as instructed and waited, and waited. Some five minutes elapsed and she lifted the knocker again, letting it drop, the noise again echoing inside.
“Oh dear”, said a voice behind her. She jumped in surprise and turned to see what looked like a stable girl, dressed as she was in wellies, jodhpurs and woolly jumper. “That isn’t going to go down too well.” The stable girl had black hair tied in a ponytail and was in her late thirties, she had a sternness about her demeanour.
“I didn’t see you,” said Kirsty, “You surprised me. What isn’t going to go down too well?”
“Well, didn’t your instructions tell you to knock four times then wait?” said the girl.
“How do you know that? And anyway I did it because I didn’t think anyone had heard me.”
“What, with that fucking great knocker?!” said the stable girl. “Oh well, no point in hanging about now is there.”
She reached past Kirsty and gave the knocker six or seven loud knocks. “I’ll bet they heard that!”
Kirsty had the feeling that indeed, all was not well. She heard a tapping noise from inside, seemingly some distance away. Turning round she saw the stable girl walking away. The tapping got louder, someone was walking to the door and taking their own sweet time about it. There was a rattling of locks, a moving of chains, a pause and then the door slowly opened revealing a figure that had Kirsty feeling a little weak at the knees and with butterflies in her stomach.
The woman before her was wearing little in the way of clothing and this was no traditional maid. On her feet she wore court shoes with what must have been five inch heels. Bands were attached to her ankles and an eight inch chain stretched between them. Below and above her knees straps were attached and joined her legs with five inch chains. Her flesh was tightly compressed with a series of straps, running around her waist, her hips and her upper thighs and a thick one connecting front to back between her legs where Kirsty could see two tubes with rubber bulbs hanging down. She wore a tight waspie corset made of leather and her breasts were exposed but each with a rubber strap around the base causing each breast to be globe-like. From bars pierced through her nipples hung inch-long heavy weights which would have pulled her breasts downwards were it not for the other chains also attached to the nipple bars which connected to a series of eight rings in her lips in a circle around her mouth so that she was effectively holding the weight of her breasts with her face, her lips pulled and obscenely distended. Her tongue protruded and was held out of her mouth by piercings up both sides and one in the centre, all of which were also attached to the lip rings; she drooled constantly onto her breasts. The girl had no hair. Her hands had been bound in rubber strips in such a way that her thumbs were taped across her palms and her other fingers bound into pairs giving the impression of only two broad fingers on each hand. Without the use of her thumbs there wasn’t any way in which she could undo any of her fastenings and she could hardly bend the fingers she had available, such was the tightness of the bondage. Her wrists had bracelets attached via chains to a tall, stiff leather collar which kept her head held erect. Over her eyes she wore a pair of darkened, circular goggles so Kirsty could not see the colour of the irises.
“Or leather?” Drool spilled from her mouth, some dropping onto her breasts, some running down the chains towards her nipple rings. She slurped, trying to minimise the flow.
Kirsty looked quizzical until the woman pointed with one set of bound fingers to the paper she had in her hand. Kirsty handed the letter over, the woman spent a minute opening it with difficulty. She dropped the envelope to the ground and looked at the writing and spent a minute reading before also dropping the letter.
“Your coe.” More drool fell as the girl pointed at her coat. Kirsty understood this time and wondering if she had done the right thing in coming here, she took off her coat and stood there wearing only her shoes.
“Ho coe ow.” She pointed at Kirsty’s coat and then towards the gravelled courtyard. Kirsty dropped the coat behind her.
“Hoose,” said the girl, pointing down. Kirsty bent down, removed her shoes and, turning, threw them out onto the gravel drive; she was naked. No makeup, no clothes, only her desire to serve.
“Ing.” said the girl, and stood to one side. Kirsty came in and the girl closed the door behind her.
“Hon aw eees, thorhead on the thoor!” she instructed, pointing at the tiles in the hall. “Hans ehind hoo and hay hill”.
Kirsty paused for a moment trying to work out what the girl meant by her almost unintelligible sounds and then understanding, she got down on her knees and leaned forward putting her forehead on the floor, her short, bobbed hair falling forward, she put her hands behind her. She sensed the girl getting down beside her and felt wetness on her back, presumably where the girl was dropping saliva on her. She felt the girl's hand stroking her back, smoothing the drool over her and leaving a cold trail wherever her hand went.
Kirsty was just feeling obedient. She was being given instructions instead of having to give them as in her job where people waited for her to decide their actions. Now she was relieved of the constant strain her working life was putting on her, her sole job for the next four months was to do what she was told. No excuses, no reasons, just do it and shut up. She already felt the cares of her world falling away.
The girl stood up and walked away, her shoes tapping on the floor, her buttocks swinging to compensate for the short chains holding her legs, the rubber bulbs slapping against her thighs. At the end of the wide hall, at the base of the left-side, curved staircase, she turned and placed her back to the wood-panelled wall; she said nothing more.
Kirsty turned her head and could see the girl standing there motionless, her hands resting on the chains running from her collar, drool occasionally dripping from her distended mouth. Occasionally she would slurp and pull her head back, tugging on her nipple piercings.
Kirsty wondered what she should do. The girl had said stay and after the cryptic words of the stable girl regarding the knocker she decided to remain in position. She did however lift her head and look around the hall with its oak panelling, its curved staircase and the stone-tiled floor, marvelling at the opulence.
She wondered if her friend, Josie, had been to this place as it was her who had put her in touch with this secretive organisation. She had said a friend of a friend knew of a place where people like Kirsty could go for a long-overdue work-break, after she had confided in her, during a drunken evening in, that her work was getting her down.
‘People like me’ thought Kirsty, ‘people in power but powerless to help themselves, submissive people in dominant positions’. Kirsty had confided in Josie about her desire to submit and Josie had comforted her in a way that only Josie could, by taking her to her bed. “I could dominate you,” Josie had said, “but you need more. You need to know what submission is like and I can’t do that here, you need to contact these people, they can help.” Josie had handed her an expensive-looking card with an embossed phone number on it, nothing else, and after weeks of deliberation had called it. The call was answered by a woman who took her name, her address and a few details about her situation and she was told she would receive a letter. She would have to do everything in the letter on the specified date. She was to take four months off and make arrangements to disappear on an outward bound course that would take her out of touch with all that she knew. Once she arrived at the mansion there would be no turning back, she would not be allowed to leave under any circumstances and her sole task was to obey any instruction she was given by anyone. She would have no freedom, no days off, everything would be prescribed for her, she had only one thing to do – obey.
She thought almost an hour must have passed, her back was aching and she constantly moved her head from side to side to ease the strain on her neck, how much longer? She thought about getting up and if the other girl hadn’t been there she probably would have, but she was still there, occasionally shuffling to ease her limbs but generally stationary, and very drooly.
Five more minutes passed and at last Kirsty heard the noise of a door closing upstairs somewhere. Footsteps on wooden floors echoed faintly in the distance, the footsteps stopped, as if they had occurred on carpet and Kirsty heard a door open, a pause, then close. The footsteps got louder and came nearer, she could hear them halt at the landing at the top of the stairs. Kirsty put her forehead to the floor again and waited.
“It’s a little late for that.” said a woman’s voice. Kirsty took a breath, it was the voice of the stable girl. The voice that now echoed through the hall, reflected by the wood panelling.
“You were told to put your forehead to the floor and stay but you have spent at least the last half an hour looking around; your only saving grace is that you haven’t actually moved from your position. So far you have failed to use the correct number of knocks and you have failed to remain in position. These failings have been noted and may be dealt with in due course. Sit back up, keep your hands behind you, do not get up, and stay still. You may look at me”.
Kirsty pushed herself up using her forehead and sat back on her calves, feeling the strain in her back dissipate. She looked up at the landing and stared at the woman.
A vision of beauty stood there, barely recognizable as the stable girl she had seen outside. Her black hair had been pulled back and tied up. Her dark eyes looked out from a beautiful, long face with a pointed jaw. Around her slender neck she wore pearls, her dress a blue, couture, evening affair with plunging neckline, split to the thigh and with high-heeled shoes barely visible beneath the hem, quality black leather gloves adorned her arms to her biceps, seemingly painted on such was their fitting. She walked down the staircase, moving with slow, deliberate steps, draping a wrist over the wooden bannister, never taking her eyes off Kirsty's naked form. As she reached the bottom her hand reached up to the drooling girl and stroked her mouth, letting a leathered finger trace a line down one of the chains to her breast. She pulled the chain to the side causing the girl's mouth and nipple to pull with it; drool spilled from the girl's mouth, some of it onto the woman’s glove. The woman wiped the glove on the girl’s thigh then reached down to the bulbs and squeezed each of them slowly. The girl moaned as whatever was inside her vagina and anus swelled once again. The woman placed a leather-clad finger deep into the girl's mouth and moved it in and out a few times. A last tweak of a chain and she moved languidly towards Kirsty.
She said nothing but pushed the wetted leather finger at Kirsty’s lips, Kirsty opened her mouth and the woman pushed her finger in letting the other girl’s saliva mix with her own. She left her finger there, not moving it. Kirsty didn’t know whether or not to move her tongue, or take more of the finger in. She did nothing.
The finger stayed still for a whole minute but seemed to Kirsty to be an eternity, then it was withdrawn and wiped on her cheek.
“At last, some understanding of what you are required to do, and that is?”
“Indeed, to obey.” The woman’s hand slapped Kirsty across the face with such force that Kirsty fell to the side. “Get up, resume your position! In future you will be more deferential, you will address me as Madam Omega. That slap was a reward for you knocking the wrong number of times when you arrived. There is no pleasure here except that which we bestow on you or allow you to take. That pleasure will not be free, everything here has to be paid for with discomfort, restriction, work, pain and blind obedience.”
Kirsty wanted to rub her burning cheek as sat back up, she could feel the finger marks Madam Omega had left there but placed her hands behind her back instead.
“You,” she turned to the drooling girl, “get yourself to matron and have the chains removed, you will retain all the new lip piercings. Have matron replace them through the hood, I think that will be most becoming. And if you ever spit at a mistress again I will sew up your mouth for a year. Clear?”
“Eth aham oega.” The girl curtsied as best she could and hobbled down the hall under the stairs and through a door at the end; a large puddle of drool remained where she had been standing.
She turned back to Kirsty.
“You will go up the stairs, and along the corridor at the top to the fifth door on the right where you will enter. Another set of stairs will take you to the second floor, the door at the end of that hallway next to the rear stairs will be your room. On the bed you will find some items of clothing, you will dress in them to the best of your ability and someone will be along in one hour to finish you. Do not open any of the drawers, cupboards or wardrobes. You are presently unrestricted, enjoy it, it will not last. Go.”
Kirsty started to move but she remembered the pierced girl. She curtsied, “Yes Madam Omega”. She ran off up the stairs, her naked breasts bouncing, feeling rather pleased with herself.
Madam Omega watched her go then moved to a lever on a stone support by the front door and pulled it down. There was a hissing noise and two wall panels, one at the foot of the staircase, one under the landing, rotated. The paintings on the panels had been replaced with two living, rubber-clad women, dressed head to foot in the tight material. They hung in metal frameworks that held them off the ground at forty-five degrees with their arms behind them, their high-heeled feet and calves bent up and bound against their thighs, their rubber-covered breasts strapped in harnesses pushed upward by the black corsets they both wore, their heads invisible under rubber hoods that had no eye or mouth holes. Black tubes came from their nostrils running over their shoulders and out of sight behind their backs. Madam Omega walked to one and touched one of the bound women’s breasts. The figure moaned through a hidden gag, squirming against her bonds and at the same time the figure on the other side of the room jerked up and down against hers. Immediately the closer figure began jerking too, the moans turning to muffled shrieks. Madam Omega withdrew her hand and after a few moments the jerking in both women stopped as the unseen electricity shocking the intimate parts of their bodies also stopped. The women were fitted with trembler devices and electrodes linked to each other via bluetooth, if one moved the movement caused the other to be shocked and vice versa. Timers prevented constant activation.
Madam Omega looked from one to the other and touched herself briefly between the legs, pressing the cloth into her crotch, the phallus hidden inside the rubber underwear pushed deeper into her vagina. For a moment she closed her eyes then with a start, as if remembering something, she removed her hand, opened her eyes and with a glance at one of the ever-winking cameras over the front door, viciously slapped the woman’s rubber breast.
“Another two hours. Enjoy.” She walked off leaving the two forms twitching and shrieking through their nose tubes.
Kirsty entered her room and closed the door behind her, she was confused. She had expected instant bondage, to be dressed in cheap rubber and to be shouted at by whores acting a part, most of her fantasies of submission being constructed in her mind. This was not like that. She was in an expensively appointed mansion, there was not yet any bondage – for her anyway – she was being allowed a certain amount of freedom and the ‘whore acting a part’ turned out to be a well-dressed, sophisticated woman. True, the freakish nature of the ‘pierced girl’ was something to consider and not with revulsion as she had considered getting her nipples pierced years ago as a revolt against her ‘normal’ job function. She would have enjoyed the thought of the piercings being there but hidden from her business colleagues: Kirsty smiled at that thought.
The room was opulent. There were wardrobes and drawers a-plenty, all made of expensive wood. The four-poster bed was huge – she noted the eye-bolts on the posts and at various other points, not only on the bed, but all over the walls and ceiling – and looked comfortable, but Kirsty was sure it was unlikely to be comfortable for her. For now, she ignored the pile of clothes on the bed, there was time for that. The barred window overlooked part of the grounds in which she could see figures working in the distant gardens, too far away to be distinctive. She padded across the carpet to the en-suite bathroom, it too had ‘fittings’ in it, also a normal shower, bath, toilet etc. She used the facilities to become 'comfortable' then went back into the bedroom, curiosity rising in her regarding the storage facilities. She put her hands on one of the wardrobe door handles and was about to pull the door open when she saw the camera. It was small but not so small that it was covert and the blinking red light above the lens was hardly subtle. She was being watched.
‘Naturally’, she thought, ‘I’m hardly going to be allowed to wander willy-nilly, I’m not a guest, I’m a…what am I? A slave, a maid, a subject?’ She didn’t know, not only what she was but how she felt herself to be.
“Get on with it”, she said out loud to no one in particular.
She picked up some of the clothes. They were cool, made of soft rubber (mostly), this was not cheap kit. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble with this stuff and yet Kirsty had paid nothing. She had been asked to pay nothing, sign nothing, promise nothing. She knew what she hoped to get out of it but what did the owners of this place hope to gain? Suddenly she felt fear. What had she done? Extended holiday had been booked, no one knew where she was – not even her – no one expected her back for at least four months and she was in a bedroom in a mansion that had bars on the windows! She dropped the clothes and went to the door, feeling a little panicky; it was locked. She pulled on the handle but it was not going to move and the door now looked very solid.
“Please, let me out. I’ve changed my mind”, she shouted, feeling a little panicked. She banged on the door but there was nothing. No one came to her, there was no sound outside; she could have been in the house on her own. She hugged the door handle and rested her head against the panels taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.
Behind her she heard a ‘ping’, a silence, then another ‘ping’. She turned and looked at the notebook computer on the bedside cabinet. She walked across the sumptuous carpet and lifted the notebook lid. The computer came to life. In blue letters were displayed the words ‘YOU HAVE 40 MINUTES LEFT TO DRESS – DO NOT DISAPPOINT’.
Whomsoever was running this show was watching, waiting, anticipating.
‘Kirsty’, she thought to herself, ‘you asked for this, get it done’. And with that she went back to the clothing.
Kirsty had never worn full rubber before, her sexual experiences had been pretty vanilla, only having worn rubber underwear for an old boyfriend a few times and she had only the vaguest idea of how it would feel to be covered in it, how it should be worn and indeed, what the point of it all was but her requested situation obviously required her to find out.
There was talc. She took it into the bathroom and covered her body in it, making a mess on the floor as she did so. ‘I should have done this in the bath’, she thought; hindsight is such a wonderful thing. She moved back into the bedroom leaving white footprints on the carpet, picked up the rubber suit and started to pull it over her feet and up her legs; she was on her way to rubber submission.
Time had passed and Kirsty had run out of it. She had the full rubber suit on with attached gloves and socks but had taken her ages to get the back zip done up because with her hands covered in rubber she couldn’t feel things so well. She had the shoes on and laced up but not locked (there were small padlocks on the bed, but no keys) and since she could hardly stand in the 5 inch heels she kept falling onto the bed. Her leather corset was around her waist but barely laced, the hood was still in her hand and there were still straps on the bed. The computer counted down the last few seconds and finally announced ‘YOUR HOUR IS UP, YOU ARE NOW FULLY DRESSED?’ She wasn’t, this was not going to be good.
She heard the lock operate and saw the door open.
A rubber-clad female form walked in dressed as Kirsty herself should have been dressed by now, Kirsty took in her form. Her black shoes were locked on to her ankles, her rubber suit was smoothed up her legs. The woman’s underbust leather corset was tight-laced. Her breasts were in individual form-fitting cups with a band at each base which slightly compressed the breast tissue and caused each to bounce independently whenever the woman moved; Kirsty could see the outline of nipple rings under the rubber. The woman’s head was covered by a full rubber hood, her eyes were not visible as she wore the the same round, darkened goggles as the door woman, there were nostril holes and the hood she wore was skilfully made such that the material curved into her mouth making her lips look like they were made of rubber.
“Well, you are in deep shit”, said the girl. Kirsty could see at least two tongue piercings when she spoke, “You are not fully dressed as you were ordered to be. I was to come and lace up your corset properly, everything else you should have done. You spent too much time thinking about your predicament didn’t you?”
Kirsty opened her mouth to speak but the girl interrupted, “You will not speak, you have not earned the right to talk casually. You will not be gagged for now nor will you wear goggles like me. For now in this dressing session, you will be unencumbered with bondage, dildo’s, probes, gags or anything else you might have thought were going to be applied the instant you arrived. This is to test your obedience and since this is what you asked for you are to be given the opportunity to show how good you are at it. You would not need to show obedience if you were bound hand and foot and suspended in a cellar, anyone could show obedience in that situation. You are being allowed to make mistakes, to rack up failures so that you can be punished. My sole task is to attend to the slaves, to make sure they are dressed correctly, provide them with food and ablutions where, for whatever reason, they are unable to attend to these matters themselves and to give advice, help and in many cases, comfort – I have no doubt I will be looking at you and giving you encouragement to bear up whilst you endure punishment. Occasionally I am whipped but it is rare as I am very good at what I do and I am only here to serve. Your name was Kirsty was it not? It is unlikely that you will be referred to by that title again. Now let’s finish dressing you and remember, even though you will have many questions, do not talk. When you are allowed to speak, you will call me My Lady”.
The girl proceeded to lace up Kirsty’s corset such that she had to take little breaths, so tight was the constriction. Tightening the corset had the effect of forcing her large breasts into the cups and Kirsty now found that there were soft rubber spikes pressing into her nipples inside the suit. The maid tied off the laces then roughly pulled the rubber cups firmly against Kirsty’s chest thus making sure the tight banding was at the breast base, slightly ballooning the breasts and pushing the nipples hard against the rubber spikes. Kirsty was aroused and manoeuvred her breasts around to enhance the constriction and feeling of the spikes. The size of her breasts had always caused them to flop a little and a bra had always been necessary but this rubber suit held them tight and supported them in a most erotic way; the designer was a genius. The maid put small padlocks on Kirsty’s shoes and clicked them closed.
“What you are wearing now will stay on until we decide otherwise. If you are anything like me you will enjoy the feeling of sleeping in high-heeled shoes and in the morning just getting out of bed fully clothed and shod and continuing with your daily tasks as if the night had never interrupted you, it’s a weird feeling. Not as weird however as what you are about to experience.”
“Come with me into the bathroom, you have not got your hood on, which is probably just as well as I would only have had to take it off again, and we have a little modification to do and don't forget that for the moment you will address me as My Lady.”
As Kirsty walked for the first time on her sky-high shoes, the woman held her arm to give her support. Kirsty was already sweating a little in the suit as the room was warm and the rubber moved sexily over her skin. Her breasts felt like remote appendages moving independently of her body, her nipples growing and pushing against the rubber spikes; this was arousal she had never before experienced.
Once in the bathroom, 'My Lady' had her kneel down on the tiled floor. She brought a short padded stool and placed it in front of Kirsty and had her lean on to it pushing her breasts against the spikes even more. ML took her hands, brought them around her back and secured them together with cuffs before running a leather strap under the stool and over the top of Kirsty’s waist thereby securing her in position with her head hanging free over the tiles, her hair falling forward over her cheeks.
“Your hair is not too long so this shouldn’t be as bad for you as it has been for some of the others, nevertheless, it will take a bit of getting used to. The manacles are temporary in case you get feisty”
Kirsty remembered the pierced woman in the hall. “Oh no”, she uttered, “surely you're not going to take my hair?”
“You really are not very good at this are you? If little ‘ol me is wondering why you chose to be a rubber slave considering you are so disobedient, imagine what the powers-that-be are thinking. Don’t forget they can see everything! You were told to be quiet, if I were you I would really listen to me, I am all you have at the moment.”
Kirsty shut up, her hair would grow back, it’s not the end of the world and anyway her nipples were telling her to do things she would never have previously considered…and they were talking to her pussy and her pussy was responding by leaking into her suit. Despite the tightness of the rubber, Kirsty could feel the dampness forming in her crotch.
'My Lady' went to a drawer and came back with a trimmer. She turned it on, lifted a segment of Kirsty’s hair and proceeded to run the buzzing blades from the back of Kirsty’s neck up over her head. She didn't know why but Kirsty started to cry, her tears falling to the floor to mingle with her fallen mane. Once the trimmer had done its job, ML finished with gel and a wet razor and Kirsty was bald. The strap holding her down was removed and ML told her to sit up. ML put a small amount of gel on her eyebrows and promptly shaved them off.
With the job done without resistance Kirsty was released from the cuffs and allowed to wash her own head and face while the girl cleared the hair from the floor and put it in the bin. She stood up, towelled herself dry and looked at the androgynous figure staring back at her from the long mirror. No hair, no eyebrows, a black, shiny body compressed into a tight-fitting suit, with large breasts sticking out obscenely from a rubber-covered chest. A leather corset distorted her frame while her long, black, shiny legs descended into cruel shoes.
A rubber hood was given to Kirsty.
“We'll put this on now and we will go. For your stay here you will have no hair on any part of your body, we used to take the eyelashes too but it was time-consuming and since most of the maids wear goggles it didn't really matter. Parts of your body will be pierced, you will be impaled, whipped, tied, immobilised. You will spend days in humiliation, discomfort and some in total isolation but always only in rubber or leather or naked bondage, never in normal clothing unless it’s to cover your uniforms while you are out. As a slave you will carry out the wishes of the Madams and everyone else, your own desires are irrelevant.
“One last thing, beware The Empress, she is all-powerful and if you are unlucky, you may meet her.”
Kirsty desperately wanted to ask questions, especially about The Empress but ML, as Kirsty mentally called her, was back to her task of dressing and she put the hood over Kirsty's face and head, fastening the zip and tightening the laces; answers would have to wait.
The hood felt smooth against her newly-bald head. She could see clearly and her breathing through her nose and mouth was unimpeded. She felt as if she were wearing armour, protected from the outside world and no longer responsible for it.
“We will now go on a grand tour of the mansion, it will take about an hour and will give you time to experience the delight of tight-fitting high-heels. After the tour you will practise patience as I hear you were not very good at it earlier today. To do this practice you may attend one the Madam’s punishment sessions where Slaves will be freed from some of their debt, if you do so it is important to remember your position here during the session, very important. Your goggles will be applied after the tour as the lenses are darkened and as you are required to be familiar with the layout of the house and gardens, it is easier if for now you can see into the darker areas.”
Kirsty wondered what colour the girl's eyes were and if she would ever see any of the girls without hoods or distorting bondage such as the girl downstairs had worn. Was it permitted to make friends here?
She opened a drawer and took out what would be Kirsty’s goggles, attaching them to a strap at her waist for convenience.
“Time to go.”
ML opened the door and led the way out. Instead of turning left to the front of the house she turned right towards the rear stairs.
“Be careful and use the bannister, you are obviously not accustomed to such high heels and it would be unfortunate to be injured on your first day here. At some point you will have to descend these stairs when your arms are bound, only when you are hobbled will you be permitted to use the small lift. Under normal circumstances you will never use the front stairs, they are for the senior staff and guests.”
Kirsty negotiated the stairs slowly, sometimes using both hands on the bannister to keep herself upright. The high heels combined with the tightness of the rubber confining her legs and the restriction of her waist made descending stairs a real challenge.
The stairs turned back on themselves three times before reaching the ground floor. There had been no other exits so these were obviously for the slaves to access their quarters without disturbing any other occupants. Stairs continued on down but ML guided Kirsty to the left and into the kitchens where two chefs were preparing food. The smell of food reminded Kirsty that she hadn’t eaten since first thing this morning. The chefs were men dressed in normal chefs clothing, there was no hint of rubber or bondage of any kind and there were no slaves to be seen here; they looked at her briefly then returned to their cooking, obviously they had seen it all before. ML occasionally wiped her goggles as they steamed up.
“You can see why no one wears goggles in the kitchen and normal clothing is used. Kitchens are dangerous places and it is unsafe for anyone to be restricted in the presence of hot equipment. When meals are over and things have cooled, slaves will come here and clean up and the chefs will return to their ‘other’ duties.” Kirsty wondered what they were.
Both women were starting to sweat in the heat and ML led her on through the kitchens, past the storage and utility rooms until eventually at the end of a corridor coming to a door marked Slave Rec. ML opened the door and for the first time Kirsty saw three other slaves dressed like her.
One said, “No goggles yet then, you must be the new one.”
“Yes, I arrived this morning.” replied Kirsty.
ML put her hand to her forehead and rubbed it in a gesture of frustration.
“I can’t ignore it again, you were ordered not to speak and yet again you have done so. For now, the tour is postponed, please wait there. Do NOT speak to these girls, do not move, I must call a Domme.” In the relaxed atmosphere in the room Kirsty had forgotten she was forbidden to speak; what was to happen now?
ML went to the wall and pressed a button. She turned and stood still, the other girls had moved away and sat down, whispering to each other. Kirsty knew something was about to happen, something bad.
After just a few silent minutes a door at the far end of the room opened and a tall woman came in. Her black, heeled boots were laced to her knees, black stockings disappeared under her short leather skirt above which was a leather under-bust corset up to her breasts which were supported by a network of leather straps, bars pierced both nipples each with a small chain hanging in a loop below them. A leather choker collar was around her slender neck and on her head she wore a half-mask, her long black hair hanging out of the back through a two-inch tube of leather and into a ponytail. The mask covered the rest of her hair and had almond-shaped holes for her darkly made-up eyes and left her mouth and cheeks open to view. She wore leather gloves and her arms and her shoulders were bare, around her waist was a leather belt with a riding crop attached. All the slaves had fallen to their knees, sitting up with their hands behind their backs.
ML pointed at Kirsty, “she spoke out of turn,” was all she said to the Domme.
Without a word, the woman strode over to Kirsty who was starting to descend to her knees. She grabbed Kirsty’s wrist and pulled her towards one wall, then opened a drawer in the nearby chest. From it she took a coil of rope and deftly tied Kirsty’s hands in front of her, the other end of the rope she threw up in the air to fall over a bar sticking out of the wall some four feet above her head. She took the end of the rope and indicated to two of the slaves to take the rope and pull, practically lifting Kirsty off the ground. She then took a strap from the drawer and threw it to ML who buckled it around Kirsty’s ankles and attached the strap to an eyebolt in the skirting with another piece of rope taken from the drawer. Kirsty was now stretched up facing the wall, breathing hard against her corset. The woman took a large ball gag from another drawer and pushed it hard into Kirsty’s mouth, forcing her jaw wide open, then cruelly pulled the buckle tight behind her head.
“Pull hard, and don’t let go or it will be the worst for you.” she said to the slaves; the girls leaned back, pulling Kirsty taught. The woman took her riding crop from her belt and without further warning proceeded to thrash Kirsty on her buttocks and legs. Kirsty screamed into the gag, pain like she had never known before shrieked through her as the Domme moved from her ass, over her thighs down her calves and backup again. She avoided the corset and struck between the shoulders four times.
“Remove the ankle rope and turn her round”. Kirsty was crying and screaming into her gag as ML complied, refastening her ankles to the eyebolt.
She put her face close to Kirsty’s. “You know what I could do now don’t you?” She said, stroking one of Kirsty’s rubber-bound breasts. “At this moment your back, buttocks and legs are on fire, your gorgeous tits could be feeling the same if I choose. This was your last warning, you were brought here to obey, you will obey every order you are given no matter how strange or unpleasant, is that clear?”
Kirsty nodded her head, tears poured down her face leaving wet lines in the rubber.
“Another major failure during your probationary period and you may spend some time as a Presentation Slave, not something you want to look forward to. She, pointing at ML, will explain what that is when I have left.”
To ML she said, “She will sleep in an armbinder tonight, make sure she has harness goggles on and Special Gag 4. As usual your behaviour was correct and exemplary, once again I offer you the chance to become a Domme but I expect you will refuse so that you can look after your little charges; you are too soft. Release her in fifteen minutes so that the pain has time soak in, fit her with day goggles and waist cuffs…in fact no, put her in the armbinder now until tomorrow morning, the rest of today and a night in an armbinder should be enough to teach her the error of her ways, then continue the tour. Since she is so taut you should be able to pull that corset in a little more too. Keep the gag in for now, I don’t want a repeat of all this and make sure you explain very carefully the duties of a Presentation Slave, you may want to show her what one is, I leave it up to you. Come to my room after you have put her to bed and I will show you again the privileges a Domme has.”
ML curtsied deeply, “I look forward to it, My Dominatrix”.
The Domme turned to the slaves holding the rope. “Keep that taut until her time is up”. She walked out without a backward glance.
Kirsty’s back, buttocks and thighs were giving her some discomfort but her calves were indeed on fire. She had never felt such pain as when she was being struck but now the agony in her lower legs was constant and she was wondering if some damage had been done. Unless they changed their minds, she would be unable to look at her bare skin for two more days. She hoped they knew what they were doing when it came to punishment. The two slaves were adjusting their positions such that they could maintain the tension on her body and they were very good at their job as she could hardly move a muscle, so stretched was she that her feet had left the floor. She felt ML undo the laces on her corset then felt the constriction increase as she pulled hard to reduce her waist even more, she could hardly breathe. The laces were tied off then a belt was put around her waist and buckled at the rear, dark lenses were placed over her eyes reducing the light by half. Two straps attached to the goggles were buckled behind her head, one above her ears and one below her ears to be buckled in the nape of her neck. Nothing of Kirsty’s own body could be seen now.
The time seemed to drag but slowly the pain subsided to a dull ache and soon enough she felt the tension on her arms relax and her feet return to the floor, the corset did it’s job and with her waist held even more tightly, her breast cups were under more tension and Kirsty was reminded of the rubber spikes at her nipples and despite her predicament and pain she felt some arousal.
While the two general slaves undid her bonds ML fetched an armbinder, Kirsty wondered if all the rooms had all the equipment in them but she suspected that the Domme knew exactly what was in each room and adapted bondage accordingly.
“Slave, put your hands behind you and I will slide this rubber armbinder on, I need not remind you of the ubiquitous cameras so please do not resist or you will not see the light of day for many days and please, don't make a sound.”
ML pulled the armbinder up and Kirsty felt her hands move through a slight restriction. Straps were placed over her shoulders and under her arms and loosely buckled. A further tug upwards and she felt her fingers touch the end of the binder. “Put your hands palm to palm, you might think that back to back is more comfortable but when I lace it up you will see I am right as it puts your elbows in a better position”.
Kirsty did as she was told and a strap was tightened around her wrists. The rest of the straps were tightened and then ML laced the armbinder up pulling her arms into a narrow ‘V’, Kirsty had never felt so helpless. ML had not finished, she attached a strap to the ring at the end of the armbinder and pulled it through Kirsty’s legs to attach to a waist-strap at the front; her upper body was virtually immobile. She tried to move her arms or bend her waist but the pressure was unrelenting. How could she spend the rest of the day and all night like this? What about going to the toilet, eating and drinking? ML, as if hearing her thoughts, spoke to her.
“I’m afraid you have rather ruined the rest of my day and night as I shall have to feed and water you and attend to your ablutions, during which time by the way, the crotch strap will of course be temporarily removed. Now we will continue our tour and you will have to manage as best you can even though I think it will take a little longer now you are trussed like a chicken”.
The tour lasted well over an hour as ML explained the goings on in the mansion. Every time Kirsty had a question ML seemed to provide the answer (fortunately) unasked, she must have done this tour many times before.
There were usually about twenty slaves or maids, the terms were used interchangeably, most of them voluntary -- Kirsty wondered about the involuntary ones. The majority were general purpose and carried out waiting at tables, cleaning, attending to the needs of the Doms, and Madams etc. A very discreet and loyal group of men carried out the changing of beds and the doing of the laundry and most of them paid to be here. They were allowed to wear rubber but they were permitted no unsupervised interaction with the Slaves. The Madams dealt with them separately. There were two Madams: Madam Alpha and Madam Omega, and each of them had a Domme to carry out their wishes. Generally, the Slaves wore mostly rubber, the Doms mostly leather, the Madams wore what they pleased but were required to have something about them which only they and The Empress knew of. The Empress was secretive and usually talked only to her Madams but rumour had it she occasionally masqueraded as a Slave so as to keep herself informed hence the common use of goggles and hoods to keep anonymity. None of the lower staff were ever seen outside their quarters without maintaining that anonymity unless they had previously expressed wishes to the contrary -- some women wanted the notoriety of being seen as a BDSM porn star. The girl who opened the door this morning, despite showing her face, would be unrecognisable due to her facial distortion and the goggles over her eyes. Slaves may be told to ‘attend’ to a guest, be they male or female, they may have to whip a slave or even take whip-strokes on behalf of someone else. They may be told to be a toilet or to piss on another slave. They could be told to do just about anything and they MUST obey. Matron was also a slave but specialised in altering bondage to fit the Authorities requirements. She carried out piercings and modifications as required and looked after the general health and well-being of all the slaves. The establishment provided funds for its running by holding specialist parties where invited people brought their desires and their slaves along for gratification. Camera footage was shown by recorded-feed or live shows to subscribers who would pay to watch punishments or just the general day-to-day operation of the establishment. Camera feeds from slave quarters were not broadcast as anonymity could not be guaranteed.
There were many rooms for guests, slaves and functions and Kirsty saw a few of the slaves working, most dressed in their working uniforms with occasional added items like restricting chains, odd gags and additional restraints to make the work more difficult for slaves who had done some wrong.
Kirsty sensed the tour was coming to an end and one final question was about to be answered.
“And now the Presentation-Slave. Presentation-Slave girls are always slaves who have failed to fulfil the requirements of their position in the most heinous way. We will now go and see a Presentation Slave but first you must temporarily lose your sight”.
ML took two pieces of black duct tape from a roll taken from a cupboard and applied them to Kirsty’s lenses. Kirsty was blind. There followed a five minute walk on her now very pained feet, a drop down a flight of stairs, a few locked doors and finally a lift. The lift dropped for some five seconds and the door opened. ML pulled Kirsty out and the lift doors closed behind them and ML removed both Kirsty’s and her own goggles and finally Kirsty saw ML′s hazel eyes.
“Most of this area is too dark to walk around in darkened lenses and we are permitted to remove them, come with me.”.
A short way down the dimly-lit, tiled walkway was a window much like Kirsty had seen in the nocturnal houses in zoos except this was no bat-house. Behind the window under bright lights was an extraordinary sight.
A framework made of varnished wood had been built in the centre of the area. Attached to this framework a girl had been spread-eagled in a star-shape, her body covered in angry welts. Like Kirsty, she had no hair on her body or head. Her face had over forty piercings, her lips, nose, eyebrows, ears, cheeks, even the back of her head, and light chains ran between many of them. Some chains stretched away from her face and were attached to the framework, some went down her body to her breast piercings and those in her belly, vagina and various places on her legs and feet. She was a mass of metalwork. Her mouth had been held wide open with a steel ring fitted inside her lips and held in place with more piercings. Chains ran from the lip piercings to inside her mouth where her tongue could hardly move with the weight of metal through it. Rings had been fastened to the skin between her fingers and toes and it was chains attached to these rings which held her prisoner. Three metal spikes ran horizontally through each breast, rings on each end were attached to the framework by more chains. Dildos hung out of her ass and her cunt, prevented from falling out by chains attached to piercings in her flesh. Her nipples had been pierced five times each and devices stretched them out towards the viewer. She was a vision of pain and ultimate bondage. Bloody streaks ran down her body especially from her breasts and there were small pools of it on the floor mingling with the woman's piss
ML hit a switch and the lights came on outside the window lighting up her and Kirsty so the girl could see them. Her face and chest flushed with the humiliation of being seen like this and she struggled weakly against her chains. There was no sound until ML pressed another switch and through a speaker Kirsty could hear the girls’ moans and pleadings.
Kirsty was horrified.
After a few moments ML turned off the speakers and the outside lights leaving the girl effectively alone.
“You can’t see, as it is above the window, but the girl can see an image of herself on a monitor. She is here for the foreseeable future. She will remain like this for as long as The Empress determines, then her position, her bondage, piercings, clothing will be changed and she will be exhibited again. For all intents and purposes she is a work of art to be displayed. People pay a lot of money for the live feed of this girl, they will have large displays set up at their homes and the image of her will be visible to all they choose to show it. She has been down here for seven days now and is probably starting to believe she will never leave as unlike you she was never shown the previous occupant of this cell. She is taken down each day for ten hours and then replaced in a different position, mode of dress and different pain at the end of the rest period, this is to prevent permanent damage and to enhance the desolation that she suffers. The previous occupant of this cell is now free, you may meet her soon as she is an accomplished Mistress and will attend the next party, she spent two months down here so you can imagine how she treats her own slaves.”
Kirsty now realised that ‘soft’ as the Domme said ML was, she had a hard-nosed, sadistic side to her and it would be best not to upset her.
Kirsty now understood her obedience position. She did not want to be the next occupant of this cell and while she felt sorry for the present incumbent, she had no wish to take her place.
ML removed Kirsty’s gag and reached down and undid the zip hiding her own vagina.
“Get on your knees and lick me.”
Kirsty felt suddenly fully-trained, she dropped to her knees with difficulty and pushed her face into the woman’s cunt, fear and desire spurring her on, the image of the Presentation-Slave in her mind but with her own face on it.
ML changed the lighting to let the tortured girl behind the screen watch as Kirsty’s ministrations brought her to orgasm.
Kirsty woke up many times during the night. It had been a relief to get off her feet but the shoes she was wearing still distorted the natural position of each foot and her toes ached. Her shoulders too ached badly as she had had no relief from their fixed position for hours now. The crotch strap had been removed by ML and her ablutions had been attended to — something that would take some getting used to, having someone else toilet and clean her – the strap re-buckled and her arms again made immobile. The pain from the welts made by the whip through her rubber suit had all but dissipated and Kirsty was happy that no real damage had been done despite the pain inflicted during the whipping. She was warm under her quilt and she felt damp inside her suit. She had expected rubber sheets but ML had told her that while rubber was warm when the air was warm the wearer could soon get cold overnight and cold was not an acceptable punishment here as it could lead to illness. Kirsty tried to drift off again, listening for any sounds in the night but the tightness of the goggle harness — a network of straps that prevented her night goggles from coming off against the bedding — and the discomfort of the pear-shaped Special Gag 4 largely prevented a sound sleep. Hopefully she would be better behaved tomorrow and could sleep in her suit more comfortably. Her thoughts were of the Presentation Slave and the horror and fear of the severity and duration of the bondage but also of wondering what it must be like to have not only all decisions made for her — the reason Kirsty was here — but to be in a position where almost no decisions were there to be made: It was either be displayed or not displayed, only the manner differed.
Kirsty was there for four months, what if she failed to obey once too often and was put in place as Presentation-Slave? She tried not to think about it any more and drifted off to sleep again.
Outside the display room Madam Alpha and Madam Omega and another woman sat and relaxed in soft chairs watching the imprisoned woman.
“I think your decision to show the presentation slave was most effective, My Empress,”
“Indeed Madam Omega, I think our newest Slave will be most keen to obey in future and ML plays her part so well. She has a sadistic streak a mile wide that girl, how she maintains her caring nature for the slaves I will never know. I presume she is in that Domme's room again tonight giving the woman a sound thrashing; we are all such twisted people! Let us have a nightcap before bed and then let the slaves get this piece of shit down. I think we'll let her go this time and tomorrow she can get back to her duties, I doubt very much she will try to escape again.
Morning, the second day.
The sunlight reflected from outside and Kirsty was awake and in agony. Everything about her hurt; her shoulders, feet, mouth, her back, thighs and calves; she felt she had been in a boxing match. She just wanted to get everything off and go back to her old life, to wear normal clothes and not have the threat of perpetual bondage hanging over her.
ML stood by her bed.
“Bet you’ve had enough now.” she said. Kirsty wondered if ML could read minds. “Get up, stand still and I will free you and prepare you for today.”
ML helped Kirsty out of bed and back onto her feet which protested with pain for a few moments until they dropped back to a familiar ache. She made short work of the armbinder and Kirsty was free to try to get some feeling back into her arms and shoulders. The awful gag was removed and the harness goggles were replaced with the day goggles she wore yesterday.
It was nine in the morning, Kirsty was desperate for a cup of tea and something to eat but all ML was offered was a drink of cold water, she drank, her mouth dry from wearing a gag all night.
“Today is the start of your training proper,” said ML, “today there will be no warning whippings, no chances and no reminders. If you fail to obey today the consequences may not be to your liking.”
Kirsty opened her mouth to speak and closed it again immediately, realising that one false move could put her in a lot of trouble.
“Ah, progress. However today for the period when you are not gagged you may speak. There are rules. You may speak to me at any time, you will refer to me as ‘My Lady’. You will be addressed as Cunt, Slave, Bitch, Slut, or anything I or they want to call you.
“How do I address the others, the..Doms and the Madams…My Lady?” Kirsty was getting the hang of this and starting to enjoy her role again, this was how she wanted it to be.
“You will address the Doms as…?
“You got it girl…and the Madams?”
“My Madam?” Kirsty said.
“Nope, got you there. Madam Omega will be referred to as just that, and Madam Alpha likewise. Everyone addresses them as such, even The Empress. You will recognise Madam Omega as the woman you met when you arrived. She is tall and has dark hair and eyes, she usually wears long dresses made of Jersey, satin or silk and dainty high-heeled shoes – when not mucking out her horses, that is –, she never exposes her breasts and rarely wears a mask. Her preferred punishments use electro-shocks. Madam Alpha wears tailored skirts usually of leather, she wears blouses and jackets, and harnesses and leather boots. Sometimes she removes her top and you will see her naked breasts while she beats you, usually with a cane which leaves vicious marks. The Madams are equally as evil as each other, do not offend them.”
“How do I differentiate between the Doms, My Lady?” asked Kirsty, it was obviously very important to get all this protocol correct.
“You do not. To you, the Doms are the same, for all intents and purposes they are the same person. They are both ‘My Dominatrix’ to you and you need not worry about identification. They wear leather as I previously told you, they carry riding crops and other devices they feel they require and they may beat you at will for some reason…or for no reason. They keep order. The establishment relies on them for the effective control of the slaves, they are there to strike fear into you when they are called…as you experienced yesterday. They are efficient, ruthless and largely unfeeling, treat them with great respect; but then in your position you would do that anyway.”
"If all the maids/slaves wear the same uniform under normal circumstances how are they to be identified as apart from height and shape they all look the same?" Kirsty queried.
"There are ways and means and they can be identified when they are naked through small tattoos that all of us have on our bodies, even the Empress, but from what I gather, you will be an exception and soon enough everyone will know who you are and how you can be identified." She didn't give any further clarification and Kirsty thought it better not to ask.
“How does my position differ from any of the other general slaves as surely they have to obey as well, My Lady?”
“An excellent question. The answer lies in the contract all the slaves read and then accepted by turning up here of their own volition. Most of the General-Slaves requested to be wearers of rubber, to be punished and trained in slavery either because they wished it or they accepted it willingly on behalf of their partners – we go to great lengths to ensure there is no coercion – at least amongst the staff members. They have conditions in their contracts about what they are prepared to experience; the degree of bondage, the level of punishment, the extent of their duties, even whether or not they can go home at weekends – and some do. They have specified in advance so that their fantasies are fulfilled to their own requirements and that is what we do in return for them agreeing to appear on the bondage and fetish websites that provide us with our funds.”
“And I, My Lady?…”
“…specified nothing…except to obey. You are damned by your own wishes. Anything else?”
Kirsty was an experienced, intelligent woman, how had she accepted such a one-sided contract? She had subliminal desires, of that she had no doubt.
“What about the Empress, My Lady, how do I address her?”
“I cannot tell you that. When you meet her you will know how you should address her; how you behave with her and what you should do. The Empress both hates and loves us all. You will love The Empress and you will crave her love for you.”
ML put her arm around Kirsty’s back and guided her towards the bathroom. “Enough questions, today we start your training as you must be mentally and physically prepared for anything…have you ever had anal sex, golden showers…?”
Kirsty was toileted and cleaned within the limitations of her clothing before the goggles were replaced and the world again became half-lit. She was given a small amount of food and some more cold water to wash it down.
ML bade her bend over a stool before lubricating her anus and inserting a small four inch long and three and a half inch circumference penis-contoured probe with a wide base before re-zipping her suit. Kirsty had tried to resist the insertion both voluntarily and with her involuntary sphincter and once it was in she felt she had been impaled on a broom handle; she was not at all used to this. A harness was placed around her waist and between her legs, the crotch strap being tightened to push the probe into her anal canal; Kirsty felt the need to to go to the toilet again but the feeling this time was strangely erotic. She clenched her buttocks and felt her anus grasping the probe.
“This is a small introductory phallus, every day you will be probed. Your ass must be able to accept natural intruders; we are not out to permanently damage you, it is not what you requested. You will wear an anal rod for longer and longer each day and it will be increased in girth until you are able to accept any man for extended periods; this introductory period may be cut short with no notice, so try to be mentally prepared at all times for an anal fucking. All of this is for your own protection, the more you are able to accept during training the less painful it will be for you when you are there in the real world. You are here to make money for us, your cut of this is of course the fulfilment of your desires, it is a win-win situation although it may not seem like that to you at the moment. Today you are free to wander the mansion and enter any room that is not locked. You may not go outside into the gardens. You will curtsy deeply whenever you pass someone so if I were you I would avoid the busier places if you want to make any progress. See Matron at 2pm and she will feed, water and toilet you. Matron will fit you with a piss-bag when you visit her.”
“Make your hands into fists but put your thumbs inside your fingers.” Kirsty did so and ML fitted tight rubber mittens over each, forming them into a ball and locked them on to her wrists. Kirsty was now unable to unfold her hands and they made picking anything up virtually impossible.
“You are nearly ready to go but before you go exploring there is one last thing. She opened the pouch she carried around her corseted waist, took out a small object which looked like a key fob and pressed a button on it. Kirsty’s ass exploded with pain and she fell to the ground screaming and trying to clutch at her buttocks with her now useless hands.
For five seconds ML held the button as Kirsty rolled around on the floor shrieking in pain and as suddenly as it started, the pain was gone. Kirsty breathed deeply and got to her knees coughing and whimpering.
“Your anal phallus – and all subsequent anal rods – contains electrodes and a battery so that you can be shocked. It also contains a sensor that is wi-fi connected. Should you move out of range of the signal the probe will begin shocking you for longer and longer intervals until it comes on and stays on so any attempt to move too far from the mansion will cause you extreme pain. The battery can go for forty eight hours before it is discharged so should you decide to leave us during this day when you are not secured in place you must be prepared to spend a long time in agony before rescue. Here is a reminder.” She pushed the button again and held it for ten seconds. Again, Kirsty screamed and pleaded for it to be turned off, hugging ML′s legs before falling back to the floor in the worst pain she had ever experienced.
The pain stopped. Kirsty was lying on her back on the floor and ML unzipped the crotch on her suit and sat over Kirsty’s mouth, “lick,” she ordered. Kirsty licked like the obedient slave she was and ML ground her hips against her face, coming long and loud while Kirsty used her bound fists on her own vulva and orgasmed almost at once.
ML stood up and used a damp cloth to clean Kirsty’s mask then kissed her, pushing her tongue deep into her willing mouth. She stood back, her demeanour back to normal. A chain was padlocked between Kirsty’s wrists through a ‘D’ ring on the front of a wide leather belt that ML buckled around her waist. The chain slid through the ring allowing lateral movement of her hands and allowed her to reach her ballooned breasts and she pushed the rubber spikes against her nipples, she breathed deeply with pleasure. ML looked on, her rubber lips smiling.
“You won’t be so keen to do that if the rubber spikes are replaced by steel ones.”
Kirsty removed her bound hand. ML gently urged her to the door, pushing on the hidden ass invader which was giving her much pleasure now.
“Remove nothing, do as you are told, do not be late for your appointment with Matron. Go.”
ML opened the bedroom door and gently pushed her out into the corridor, following her and closing the door behind them.
Kirsty watched ML walk away and wondered where she should go now. Her thoughts went to the tortured girl in the Presentation Room but she didn’t know if she wanted to see her again yet, and anyway she had no idea where it was as she had been blinded on the way out too. She decided to take the back stairs and go to the recreation room to see if any of the other girls were there.
Walking was painful, very painful. Her feet had been crushed into the high shoes for over a day now and she had had little relief except when in bed and even then she was aware of the curve the shoes forced her instep to mould to. The rubber suit was sticking in some places and irritating her flesh but in other places it moved around sensually. Her face no longer felt like her own and her head felt strange underneath the rubber, her baldness emphasising the feel of the encompassing rubber. The goggles were oppressive, occasionally steaming up making the half-light inside even more difficult to peer through. The corset was still oh-so-tight although she was getting used to it and her body felt like it was made of wood, so difficult was it to bend or twist. She pulled her wrist-chain through the ‘D’ to one end and used the extended bound hand to again touch her spiked nipples, feeling the pleasure through them. She imagined ML′s words coming true and could almost feel the sensual pain of steel needles piercing the tender flesh; delighting in fantasy but wondering about the real thing. She walked on, every movement making the anal rod move up and down inside her, she wondered how big the biggest one was as her present one was beginning to feel enormous. What did ML mean when she said accommodate a man for extended periods, no man she had met could do anything like that ‘for extended periods’ but then suddenly thought that many men could do it for shorter periods; was she going to be made to become a whore, an submissive ass-fuck? The thought, like many of her thoughts here, became both a nightmare and a fantasy: She pressed a fisted hand against her rubber-covered vulva and shivered with pleasure.
No one was in the recreation room. She looked at the fastenings on the wall where she was whipped yesterday and shuddered, suddenly conscious once again of the welts that the whip must have left on her skin and the dull pain that she still sometimes felt. She left by the door the Domme had used yesterday and found herself in a long corridor leading west. There were two doors and a set of stairs going down. The doors were locked and she couldn’t face any more stairs in her heels right now so continued on, her shoes clip-clopping on the tiled floor. Ahead of her a door opened and a slave exited, locked the door and came down the corridor towards her. As the girl approached, Kirsty curtsied deeply, looking at the ground. The slave stopped.
“At ease.” she said. Kirsty stood up, feet together and hands as far down as the chain would let her, she hoped the pose was correct.
Kirsty looked at the woman’s masked face and realised that this must be the woman whose face had been cruelly pierced yesterday in the hall when she arrived, the one who had opened the door. She remembered the words of Madam Omega: ‘get yourself to matron and have the chains removed, you will retain all the new lip piercings. Have matron replace them through the hood, I think that will be most becoming’. The Slaves’ rubber hood was the same as Kirsty’s but the eight piercings Kirsty saw yesterday were still in her lips however they had been pushed through the rubber and then through the holes in the girls face making the hood permanent until the rings were removed.
“Ah, the new obedience slave. Turn around and face the wall.”
“Yes, My Lady.” said Kirsty and turned. The girl pushed her hand into Kirsty’s ass and pressed on the base of the phallus inside. Kirsty gasped. She pressed and released a few times, arousing Kirsty once again. The hand was removed. “Face me again.” Kirsty turned and faced the slave. “I look forward to watching your descent into submission, to have to be told everything. What do you think of that?”
Kirsty was fascinated by the lip piercings and wished she had them. She could imagine even more rings through her own mask and through her lips, weights hanging from them and chained together; oh god, what was happening to her?
“Answer!” shouted the slave girl.
“My Lady, I am here to obey. If that is what is seen fit for me, that I become without will, then it is as it should be.”
“A clever answer, I will talk to you again in a couple months and we’ll see how clever you are then.”
The slave walked away and Kirsty curtsied low to her retreating back, “Yes, My Lady.”
Kirsty continued along the corridor and tried a few doors, gripping the round handles between her useless hands — she was after all told she could enter any room that was not locked; it would appear that there was a surfeit of locks in this place as nothing opened. Kirsty tried a different tack and wandered the halls at random listening for sounds until she came upon the entrance to a quiet courtyard; she tried the glass door and it opened smoothly. She entered.
The courtyard turned out to be square, an atrium surrounded on all sides by the walls of the house. It was open to the sky and plants grew around the tended but cluttered garden. Windows on the ground, first and second floors over-looked the courtyard and it was open to the sky. It was quiet, peaceful. The occasional bird would venture down as far as the top of the one tree, a eucalyptus, and the flowers on the ground had a brave bee or butterfly descend on them. There was a garden bench by the door and Kirsty sat, the ever-present rod pushing into her again, giving her a strange pleasure. She sat for a while feeling free despite her bondage, with half-hearted wishes that she could sit here in normal clothes, that she could hear without the slight muffling of her rubber helmet on her ears and without the darkening goggles that she knew she could remove but dared not. She was thankful for their presence though as without them she would not be here, she would still be in her office in the city, making decisions, taking the pressure others should be taking; hiring, firing, making money for no reason other than to have more money. It was difficult to believe that that was the way it was just the day before yesterday, dressed in her smart business suit and sensible shoes, her mobile phone at hand and her secretary taking notes for meetings later in the day. Now here she was, again going over her self-imposed predicament; electric device in her ass, killer heels that were metaphorically killing her. Her rubbered body at the same time both invisible and carnally exposed to the world, no hair, a corset, disembodied balloon breasts, bound hands, chains and a newly discovered sexual desire…plus a serene calmness, her only decision was where to go next and she was sure that even that choice was soon to be taken from her.
She sat there and sweated deliciously as the summer warmth made its way down between the tall walls and heated her rubber-bound body. She found herself raising and lowering her hips, feeling the phallus in her ass doing its evil work. She placed a bound hand in her crotch and rubbed as best she could on her vulva but try as she might there was just not enough contact this time to bring her to orgasm. It was time to continue her walk and in a haze of sensuality she left the courtyard.
A Domme came towards her. Kirsty moved to one side and curtsied deeply once more, keeping her face pointed towards the floor. She was not acknowledged which she found to be rather thrilling, she was just an unimportant object to be ignored.
Kirsty wandered aimlessly here and there, barely seeing a soul. Finding locked doors wherever she went. A clock under a camera told her it was 13.00, she had an hour to get to matron to get her ‘piss-bag’ fitted; it didn’t sound pleasant. Despite her ever-painful feet, Kirsty took a flight of stairs down into a basement area and along a cold, stone-tiled corridor. Here she heard muffled screams, she turned to leave, not wanting to know the source…or the reason for the screams but too late, she bumped into someone, whom she discovered was Madam Alpha, who had come out of an alcove.
Madam Alpha was tall, oh so very tall, perhaps six foot four in her high heels. She wore boots, a very short leather skirt and a harness of leather that held huge breasts prominently displayed, her nipples were pierced and held outwards with a ring and rod system that constantly stretched her flesh. A soft leather bolero jacket covered her shoulders and outlined her magnificent breasts. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun and her makeup was dark. She wore a leather collar and corset and carried a vicious bamboo cane.
Kirsty quickly curtsied.
“So, new slave” said Madam Alpha, “I am Madam Alpha and you have wandered into a spider's web, how fortunate for us. Turn around and enter the room at the end.”
Kirsty did as she was told and entered a scene of torment.
Swinging by her wrists from the ceiling was a naked slave. Her legs had been spread apart by a long bar and her feet were clear of the floor. Under her was a pool of piss and specks of blood. Her breasts had been bound with rope and punctured with many needles, her mouth lips had been sewn roughly together allowing drool to spill out from the coarse holes, there was snot around her nose and her cheeks were drenched in tears, black where mascara had run. A tube extended from her vagina with a rubber bulb at the end. Spikes had been pushed through her nipples and were attached by chains to the walls so that every time she swung on her bonds her breasts pulled in the opposite direction. She had whip marks almost covering her body. Her long dark hair (yes, she had hair) was wet with sweat. A maid stood to one side, holding a tray of implements in one hand and a needle in the other.
“You have come upon one of our most lucrative video feeds, slave; naked torture. Strangely the woman in front of you has requested this, even to show her face to the world. She is an extreme masochist and bad as it looks this is but a precursor for the real thing for her. Tell her how much you love this.” she said to the tortured woman.
The woman made noises from behind her mouth stitches but nothing intelligible.
“Hmm, she is not making much sense. How can she let you know? Ah I know. Kneel down in front of her, sit back and put your hands to your sides, as far as your chain will permit.”
Kirsty knelt, horrified by the image of the hanging woman in front of her.
“Closer, get right under her and look up at her.”
Kirsty moved in.
“Now pain slut, you are to inform this obedience slave that this is what you wish, and how will you do this?”
To Kirsty’s surprise and shock the woman pissed on her.
“Open your mouth slave,” Madam Alpha shouted.
Kirsty partly opened her mouth and the Madam leaned over her, grabbed her jaws and stretched them wide. “Open!”
The piss went over Kirsty’s hood and goggles and a goodly amount entered her mouth, she could feel its warmth on her back and heard it splash onto the floor.
“Keep it open!” she shouted, “She has been holding this for you while we watched your walk on the cameras. If you’d not stopped in the garden there would be less piss.” Kirsty accidentally swallowed some of the woman’s piss and realised how far from her previous life she had gone; if her work colleagues could see her now. Just for a moment she wondered if any of them subscribed to the video feeds.
The woman’s flow of piss stopped, Kirsty was covered in another woman’s urine. It had managed to get inside her mask through her mouth opening and she felt it moving around her cheeks, she was to wear this woman’s piss perhaps for another night! Madam Alpha nodded at the waiting slave girl who promptly took her needle and plunged it into the hanging woman’s breast; a moan escaped through the stitches.
“Stand up, did you enjoy that slave?”
Kirsty didn’t know how to answer. She had not enjoyed it, she had been pissed on for the first time in her life, made to let it in her mouth and swallowed the urine of a complete stranger. Should she tell the truth?
“No, My Lady, er, Madam Alpha” Kirsty hoped she had recovered from her mistake in time. She said, “I did not.”
“I would not have believed you if you had said that you did so you have avoided the award of punishment for this, unfortunately you will receive punishment for calling me My Lady. Were you not informed that I and Madam Omega will be referred to by our titles and names? I think she did, the woman knows what she is doing. Do you like our swinging slave? Isn’t she wonderful?”
“I am sorry, I was so informed. She hangs magnificently, My Lady… Madam Alpha.” Kirsty corrected herself, shit, she was trying hard to play the game.
“Oh dear, tonight is not going to go well for you. Let us see if you are constantly remembering the lowliness of your position, can you obey every order, every instruction, obedience slave?”
“Yes, Madam Alpha.” Kirsty wondered what was coming.
A nod from Madam and a glance at the woman’s supporting chain and the general slave put down her tray of needles and tools, loosened the chains hold the woman’s breasts and using a winch, lowered the tormented woman to her feet – Madam Alpha kicked her feet out behind her and then she was lowered on downward until she was slightly bent at the knees, her spreader bar forcing them into a painful angle. At another nod the winch stopped.
“Kick her in the cunt, hard!” ordered the Domme.
Kirsty hesitated for such a short moment but it was enough, two backhand blows from Madam Alpha’s cane landed on Kirsty’s ballooned left breast. Kirsty screamed, her shriek echoing along the corridor, and put her bound hands to her breast. A second later the anal probe did it’s work again as Madam Alpha pressed a button on the wall control panel and Kirsty screamed anew as her ass was seared with pain and she nearly fell to the floor. The pain stopped.
Kirsty drew back her leg and booted the poor girl in the crotch.
“Mmmph!” was all the response from her fastened mouth and then shockingly, she thrust her pelvis forward.
“Again, twice, and harder.”
Kirsty kicked again so hard her own tortured foot hurt and then again.
“Mmmmmmmph!” The woman began to thrash about, blowing snot from her nose as she fought for breath, her hips thrusting wildly towards Kirsty.
“Again!” Kirsty kicked again, her heel grazing the woman’s thigh and slicing it open, blood rose in the wound. The woman screamed behind her stitches and rocked her head from side to side, her eyes half-closed, veins standing out on her neck. Kirsty was astounded, the woman was actually having an orgasm; she kicked again and again and again, her own arousal becoming uncontrollable, sweating profusely inside her suit, tension rising, welling up between her legs and as Madam Alpha’s cane landed across her breast again she fell to the floor clutching her cunt with her fists and rubbing like a rutting whore. Her own orgasm was both ecstatic and frightening in its intensity.
Madam Alpha took the winch control from the slave and lifted the woman off the ground again. Her moans of pleasure turned to grunts of pain as her arms were again strained and her breasts were once again put under tension by the slave.
“Your response was slow at first,” said the Madam, “you improved, but it must be instant. Do not hesitate when given an order, obedience slave, or you will find yourself in this woman’s place or even in you-know-where. Now go, you must have your piss-bag fitted. You will meet me again soon and we will see how instant your responses can be.
With a glance at the hanging woman, Kirsty curtsied and with a “Yes, Madam Alpha,” left the room. As she walked away she heard the swish of the cane as the woman’s torture began anew.
She got to Matron’s office precisely at 2pm. She had actually got there ten minutes earlier but she was told 2pm and didn’t want to get into any more trouble.
She knocked on the door and a voice told her to enter. She grabbed at the round handle with both fists and turned it, pushing the door open.
“So, are we having fun yet? Regrets? Lots, I expect and this is only your second day.” said the woman sitting at the desk in front of her. The room was laid out like a nurses room, the sound of the Matron’s voice was deadened by the white rubber walls and floor tiles and Kirsty’s shoes made no noise here. There was a bench, a gyno chair with stirrups and straps, glass cabinets and shelves with a mixture of medical equipment and rubber bondage items. The woman was dressed in a white all-over rubber suit with her eyes and mouth showing through contrasting red outlining. Over her suit she wore a knee-length rubber apron and knee-high white rubber boots. Kirsty could see no seams on the suit, it appeared that the gloves, the hood and presumably the feet were attached. Matron stood up and came around the desk and Kirsty could see a heavy padlock was attached to her suit at the top of her head, she was completely enclosed and locked into her clothing, even her boots had padlocks at the top to prevent access to what looked like white wire laces. The heels on her boots were a good inch longer than Kirsty’s and she stood almost on her toes. Her white rubber corset also had a padlock at the back and her waist was drawn in severely with a wide, white leather padlocked leather belt added for effect. She was not getting undressed in a hurry and not without help.
“I have..have no regrets, My Lady. My experience so far has been…interesting.” She curtsied, probably too late. “I have been sent here..”
“…to have a piss-bag fitted.” completed Matron, “Yes, I know. You may be spending the evening entertaining guests. I have been invited to attend but it’s a bit of a pain as I am not allowed to attend in my rubber whites and as you can see I cannot get them off until seven days have elapsed and that’s not until Saturday, four days away. I shall have to wear formal rubber over the top and the Doms have an open fire in their lounge, as if I haven’t sweated enough already. Fortunately, through discrete openings, I can get enough of my bare skin under my apron to keep from asphyxiating. You cannot so you must be stinking like a pig under there by now especially as I see you have been pissed on and I don’t suppose it was all kept out was it?”
“No, My Lady, plus some of it went in my mouth.” complained Kirsty.
“I would learn to accept these things, I don’t suppose it will be the last time you are pissed upon. You have a long way to go and so far you have been looked after, although you may not think it. You have been spoken to relatively nicely, you have spent the day largely unfettered and unencumbered; this will not continue. Tonight your learning curve starts to rise steeply and by tomorrow evening things will be very different. I will continue to be your friend in this room but if you see me out and about you will see my other side. That is not to say that I will not do bad things to you here but I will try to carry them out with as much kindness as I can manage.”
“I thank you, My Lady.”
Kirsty was told to sit down and as promised she was fed but only with a fruit-flavoured milk drink. Matron told her it was a proprietary compound that would give her energy and nutrients that would keep her going until tomorrow. “You could do to lose a bit of weight off that waist anyway and off that fat arse.” Kirsty had never had any complaints about her ass but then she was in a — previously in a – position where not a soul would criticise her. She was rather proud of her figure, especially her tits, ‘And especially in this sex clothing,’ she thought to herself.
“Right, to work.” continued Matron, after the drink had been finished, “Please sit on the gyno chair and squirm down so your ass is hanging off the seat, you cannot fall off.”
Kirsty took her position and Matron explained what she was doing as she did it. The double zip of her suit was opened and Kirsty felt air reach her privates, it felt cold against her moist skin. Matron wiped her down with an even colder antiseptic swab and taking a flesh coloured double pipe proceeded to insert it into Kirsty’s urethra. Kirsty yelped at the discomfort. Once Matron was happy the pipe was in the correct distance she took a small syringe and attached it to the second pipe, gently pressing the plunger. Kirsty panicked as she felt her pee-hole expanded by an inflating bladder and struggled a little.
“Don’t move, I don’t want to start again,” said Matron, “the bladder has to be expanded to keep the main pipe in, it is a little uncomfortable at first but you will get used to it, I bet you hardly feel that little anal intruder now do you? Well, except when someone presses that little remote control thingy anyway.” She chuckled.
Very funny, thought Kirsty, who was still well aware of her ‘little anal intruder’.
“The one you’ve got in isn’t a real one anyway.” Matron continued, “As you will find out in the morning the real ones don’t have that narrow bit on the end which at present is allowing your sphincter to close around it to prevent it coming out. No, the real ones don’t narrow at the base as the idea is to hold open your sphincter so that it stretches. The phalli you will be wearing after today will start at about an inch in diameter and be long enough to allow full penetration of your anus when fully inserted, however the chains that will hold it in are slack enough to allow the phallus to fall out so far and no farther, that way they can be moved in and out to remind you of their presence and every time you sit down you will fuck yourself in the ass. I’ve done it. it’s quite nice sometimes, but only if you can take it out when you get fed up; you will not have that option, it stays until someone takes it out. Oh, and they all have that little electro bit in them too, just in case.”
Kirsty listened with dread, the one she had in was big enough and she could feel it almost all the time, moving around, turning her on sometimes, sometimes pissing her off.
Matron had finished with the insertion and holding a bucket under the end of the pipe she released a clamp, urine began to flow. Kirsty looked down and instinctively tried to stop it but nothing happened; she was taking a piss and couldn’t do anything about it. When the flow had ended Matron had Kirsty stand up and then pulled the double zip up close against the pipes and applied a small padlock between the end rings of the zip. She left the syringe in place too. A harness went round Kirsty’s waist and a series of straps were tightened around her left thigh and downward to her knee where the last strap had an attachment which was to hold the transparent rubber bladder that she affixed to the end of the tube. Kirsty’s piss-bag was secured in place. She was told that over the course of the evening it would fill up and be replaced, her urine would be taken away and used to treat other occupants of the mansion, she did not say how.
“Well, nearly finished my girl, just one more thing to do, stand up and turn away from me. Matron fitted Kirsty with a very wide leather neck-collar. When it was buckled and fully laced the leather gripped her throat in a vice and the height of it held Kirsty’s head still, holding it rigidly forward and raised a little. She could not turn it to the side, nor look up or down. Matron attached leather cuffs to each wrist and padlocked a short chain to each cuff.
“Hands behind you, you won’t be needing them for the rest of the day.”
Kirsty put her hands behind her and each one was taken, her elbow bent, and each wrist pulled high up her back and fastened by its chain to the ring at the back of the collar, Kirsty heard padlocks attached. She was uncomfortable, immobile for the most part and very, very helpless.
“Would you like to see yourself, you’ll either love it or hate it? Oops, nearly forgot.” Cuffs were fitted above her knees, under the piss tube and a short chain padlocked on. Kirsty was dressed.
Matron opened a tall cupboard and Kirsty saw her reflection in the mirror attached inside the door. She gasped despite her discomfort.
Before her was a figure from her wildest dreams and it was herself. Tight, high heeled shoes on pain-wracked feet, black rubber on her legs holding a transparent bag which already had a little urine in it, a pipe running up her thigh and disappearing inside her body, the outline of the threatening little syringe easily visible against the black of her rubber-covered crotch. Her tight corset, the black leather holding her waist so rigidly. Her breasts, magnificent in their individual tight bags of black rubber, the banding at the base holding them firm and globe-like, forced out even more obscenely by the strained position of her arms behind her back, her left breast glowing with pain under the rubber where Madam Apha’s cane had struck her. She imagined three bright red welts there under the material and looked forward in a newly found masochistic way to having her breasts beaten again by Madam Alpha. At her neck she looked at the shaped collar, her head immobile in its embrace, her black rubber lips highlighting her, as yet un-pierced, pink tongue. Her face and bald head, covered by yet more rubber, her eyes almost invisible behind her fetish-round, black goggles. Her shoulders pulled back by the taut bondage of her hands. Matron moved a mirror behind her and she could see herself from behind in the front glass. The back of her tight shoes, the curve of her calves, the shininess of the knee chain restricting her movements and tautness of her thighs and buttocks, she imagined (and felt) her anal probe inside and looked forward to fucking herself in the ass with her promised [threatened] new intruder tomorrow. Her useless hands bound into fists, now even more pointless, chained up her back. Again she tried to move her head but its smooth rubber covering was immobile against her new collar.
Matron pushed herself against Kirsty, put her hand on a breast and while kneading the hidden rubber spikes beneath her fingers, tormenting Kirsty’s nipple. She reached around and with a regular rhythm pushed on Kirsty’s anal dildo. In, out, in, out. Kirsty started to breathe heavily, pushing her ass back against Matron’s hand. Almost unnoticed, Matron moved Kirsty towards the door of the surgery and, opening it, gave Kirsty a last stroke on the nipple, a last push on the dildo and a slight push out into the hall. Kirsty felt the hands leave her, a door slam and she was alone in the hallway on the verge of an orgasm.
‘Shit,’ she thought, ‘shit,shit,shit!’ She was in a cloud of frustration, and pleasure; she had never felt so aroused and so unfulfilled. She looked for somewhere she could push her pussy against to try to complete the threatening orgasm. She felt like a slut and didn’t give a shit. Had there been a park bench in front of her and even if she was outside being watched by her grandmother she would still have placed her legs either side of the backrest and fucked herself on that ‘little anal intruder’!
‘Calm down,” she told herself, her breaths becoming less frenetic, ‘there is nothing you can do.’
At that point ML appeared around the corner. Kirsty barely remembered in time but managed to curtsy although it was now far more difficult with her hands chained up behind her and her legs chained almost together.
“Matron has a way with sex, does she not?” said ML.
“Fuck me, My Lady, please just fuck me!” Kirsty blurted out, instantly regretting her words, this was not a good thing to have said.
ML grabbed her nipples through the rubber and squeezed the spikes into her erect tissue, she brought her lips against Kirsty’s, their goggles touching, and kissed her, her tongue probing deep into Kirsty’s rubberised mouth. Then withdrawing just a fraction she whispered through the rubber into Kirsty’s ear, “Oh dear, dear little obedience slave. I have decided to reveal myself as a Madam and you are mine now, my personal pet for as long as I like. Rest assured, you are already fucked!”
Kirsty came. Rubbing herself against My Lady like a common whore, she moaned and screamed in pain in pleasure as she fell to her knees and ML shocked her in the ass.