0 comments/ 21041 views/ 0 favorites A Special Day By: SweetBaby12 Today was going to be a special day, I felt it when I woke up. I was anxious to get the day started. Slipping on my white silk robe I glanced at the clock and realized that you would be here any minute. How much I was looking forward to seeing you, the week had been much too long. Just thinking about you I can feel myself getting wet, and my nipples are getting hard. It is amazing what your touch can do to me, a thousand different feelings flood my mind and body whenever I get near you. I try so hard to be strong and not totally lose control ... it is a struggle. But I have to remember that today as always, I am the Mistress. The doorbell ringing brings me back to reality and as I head for the door I will my nipples to not stick out quite so much (it isn't working). I open the door and there you are - handsome and sexy as ever, dressed in your jeans, boots and western shirt. I pretend not to notice that you have something behind your back and I open the door wider and motion for you to come in. As is your custom, you kiss my cheek, "good morning Mistress" you whisper in that soft sexy voice. "good Morning my pet" I reply. I can't help but smile as I see you grinning like a school boy. "so what have you brought your mistress this morning?" I ask. You say nothing just hold out a small black box, tied with a pink bow, my favorite color as you well know. I untie the ribbon and take the lid off of the box, inside I find a beautiful pink porcelain rose, the one that we had seen at the gift shop when we were in the mountains, but when I had gone back to get it - it was gone. Now I know where it went. I take your head in my hands and kiss you passionately, pressing myself to you and feeling your heat begin to rise. God you smell so good and feel so good, but I must keep my head about me. You gladly return my kiss and wrap your arms around me pulling me tightly to you. Your hands remain around my waist because you know that until I give my permission that is the only place that they are allowed. letting them slip down over my ass or around to caress my breasts would mean punishment for sure. As our kiss ends, I tilt your head down and look in your beautiful blue eyes, "this is going to be a very special day - very special." I take you by the hand and lead you back to the bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed and you kneel beside me, still holding my hand. "What can I do to please my mistress this morning?" you ask. "First I would like you to go get my bath ready, I feel like a nice relaxing soak in the tub." Without hesitation, you kiss my hand and head for the master bath. You are very familiar with everything and begin the water running as you start lighting the candles. My master bath was designed with no outside walls, so even in the middle of the day I can enjoy the solitude and romance of candlelight. You take the bath oil from the shelf and add just enough to make the water a pale pale pink, and add the light scent to the room. You lay out the towels and brushes, everything that you know your mistress will require. Coming back into the room you announce "Your bath is ready mistress, shall I assist you?" With a smile I reply, "yes my pet, you shall." I walk into the bath and you follow. It is so beautiful, "You did very good, and that deserves a reward" ... untying my robe I let it slip to the floor as I turn to face you. "Would you like to see how pleased that you have made your mistress?" Before you answer I take your hand and guide it between my legs where your fingers can feel the wetness dripping from my pussy. You gently caress my lips and slowly slide a finger just inside the folds of my cunt. You look to me for further permission, and I smile which tells you that you may play with me, my clit and the outside of my asshole - but you know that you can never put a finger in my pussy or ass without me specifically giving you permission. I am sure that you still remember the sore red bottom you got the last time you forgot. As you continue to play with me my knees start to get weak so I step back and tell you "lick your fingers clean" ... and without hesitation you obey me. "Very good." I say softly, and you just smile. I walk to the edge of the tub and you are there with a hand to steady me as I step in and lower myself into the steamy warm water. "Mmmmm this is very nice, now give your Mistress the pleasure of seeing you undress for her, and stand before me when you are finished." You begin with the boots, taking them off one by one and placing them in your area of the closet, then you take off your belt, unzip your jeans, and let them fall to the floor. As you step out of them you glance at me - knowing that I can't miss that big bulge in your crotch. I see you are wearing the silk bikini briefs that I bought you - they barely cover that raging hard on that you have, your balls are straining to escape out either side. Next is the shirt, you unbutton each button carefully, there is no need to rush, you know that I enjoy the show. As you start to pull your underwear off I stop you by my uplifted hand, "wait my pet - come over here to your Mistress first." You walk over to the edge of the tub, I swear I can see your cock throbbing with every heart beat. I reach out and begin to massage you through your underwear and you let out a loud moan. I know that you are extremely aroused and so close to just exploding right there in my hand ... should I bring you to your first release right here? Or do I wait and let you anticipate it even more. As I continue to massage you and caress your balls you whisper "Ohhhh Mistress .... I don't know if I can hold back." "Yes my pet you can and you will ... you know the rules - no spilling of that precious seed without my permission, you know that I always take care of you - and quite well I might add." "That is true my Mistress, you always do, I will do as you wish and look forward to whatever you have planned for me. I am here to please you and I want nothing more than to know that I have done that." I remove my hand from your crotch and ask you to please put a CD in the stereo. "Your choice, my pet." You smile for you know that getting to choose the music is a reward, and that I am well pleased with you. When you return I ask you to brush my hair and pull it up so that it does not get wet. I enjoy so much feeling your hands on my hair as you gently brush it and tie it up just as I ask. By now you know what is next, you get the cloth and the soap and begin to gently but thoroughly clean me from head to toe. Giving special attention to my pussy all the way back to my tight little asshole. You know that I want to be totally clean and totally fresh when I step out of this bath. You take my hand and help me up, getting the hand shower to rinse all the soap form me. You spread my legs gently and rinse my cunt and clit ... did you keep that shower aimed at my clit just a little longer than necessary? I can't fault you for wanting to bring me pleasure, so I act as though I don't notice. You turn me, press on my lower back to get me to bend over slightly and you spread my cheeks as you rise away all of the soap from between them. I hear one word, spoken as a question "Mistress...?" and I know what you want. You love taking your tongue and licking that little bud right after my bath, and I have to admit I love it too. "Go ahead my pet." Almost before the words are out I feel your soft warm tongue flicking on my ass. "Mmmmmm yes - mommy likes that baby." After a few minutes of pleasure for both of us I turn and you help me out, dry me off and get my favorite perfume. I walk to the bedroom and you hurry to do some quick straightening up in the bath. When you get to the bedroom I am laying on the bed, still naked, just listening to the music. You kneel beside the bed, "What can I do to please you?" you ask. Looking deep in your blue eyes I say, "I want you to make me cum hard with just your mouth and finger tips. You are not to put a finger in my pussy or my ass, do you understand?" You look at me but do not answer me. "Over my lap - now!" I say as I sit up in the bed. You get up and lay over my lap, pulling your underwear down as you do. You know that I never allow anything between my hand and your ass. As soon as you lay down I give you one hard SMACK on the ass. "Now, I will ask you again, do you understand my instructions?" "Yes Ma'am" you answer. "Very good, now get started, your Mistress is needing to cum very badly." I lay back down and you position your self beside me. First you gently spread my legs, because you know that I like for you to open me up. "Mmmmm Mistress - you are so soft and wet ..." Your fingers glide over my pussy lips as your lips find one of my breasts and begin to suck on it - your mouth full of me. You suck fairly hard because you know that is how I like it, as you flick your tongue roughly over my nipple. "Oooooh yes baby - Mistress likes what you are doing - now don't forget the other one." You quickly turn your attention to my other breast as your hands find my clit and begin to circle around it. My hips begin to rise up to meet your fingers, as I start to moan softly. This is your signal to move down between my legs, spreading my cunt open and licking me with your tongue pressed hard against my pussy and clit. I can feel you licking all the way from my clit back to my sweet little asshole. You continue to lick and tease me - patiently moving me towards a mind blowing orgasm. That is one thing that is so special about you - the way that you enjoy my pleasure nearly as much as I do. I can hear you moaning softly as you continue to lick my cunt. I can see you grinding your hips into the bed, rubbing that big beautiful hard cock against the cool sheets. But you know how far you can go - you know that you can never spill that seed without my permission, and rarely have you ever broken that rule. As you see that I am getting closer and need the attention on my clit, you start licking and gently sucking on my clit. You alternate so to give me the best sensations. You allow me to use your tongue and face as I rub my cunt against you ..."Make mommy cum - make her cum hard baby", I tell you as you increase the rhythm and pressure on my clit. "That's it baby - keep that tongue on me - make me scream ... make the juices flow baby." My hips are keeping rhythm with your tongue as I start to shudder and feel an intense orgasm begin to wash over me ..."OOOOoooohhhhhhhhh yesssssssssssss yesssssssssssssss baby yesssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" You hold me by the hips knowing that I will try to back away from you but you know that I really do want to ride this out as long as possible, so you hold me, my clit surrounded by your lips as my whole body shivers with the last waves of orgasm. As I begin to come down you crawl up beside me, cradle me in your arms and hold me as you stroke my hair, kissing my forehead softly. "Yes, my Mistress, I am here, I have you, I will always be here for you - always." I look into your beautiful blue eyes, "I love you my pet", "I love you too Mistress, very much." We lay and hold one another for a little while longer. Then you slip out of the bed, get your cigarettes, and a drink for both of us. When you return, you make sure that I am comfortable, cover me with a sheet and ask permission to sit with me while you smoke your cigarette. I simply nod and smile, you sit down and as you smoke we enjoy a few minutes of peace and solitude. Finally I break the silence, "Baby, did you obey me this week? Have you done as I asked and not allowed yourself the pleasure of cumming since you were here last weekend?" I knew this was asking a lot of you, and normally I would not restrict you in this way but I had something very special planned. I had not revealed my plan to you, just instructed you that there would be severe punishment if you disobeyed. Looking at me you replied, "Yes ma'am, I did as you ask, and it was so very difficult. I would lay in my bed and think of you and how beautiful you are and how much I enjoyed pleasuring you last week. Then I would remember how naughty I felt when you had me slip my hand under your dress in the restaurant and finger you - my cock would get rock hard, just like it did then. But I knew that you would not be pleased if I disobeyed you, and I wanted to prove to you that I do desire to please you more than myself. So when my cock got hard, I just told myself how pleased you would be that I did as you instructed. So, mistress - what do you have planned for me today? Why couldn't I ...." I lean over and begin kissing you softly then passionately ... exploring your mouth with mine, pulling your body to mine, as you roll on top of me. "Make love to me my pet, you say that you love me - now show me by making love to me more passionately than you ever have before. But remember, do not release your seed without my permission." You know when I make a request like this that you are free to do what you feel will satisfy me. I have given you the only restriction and that being that you not cum without my permission. I knew that you still had questions about what I had asked of you this past week, but you were more interested in the request I had just made. You really enjoy when you are given the opportunity to do things your way. You start by brushing my hair from my forehead, and kissing it softly. "If it please you Mistress, I will take a few minutes to light some candles, turn off the lights, and put some music on the stereo." "Thank you baby." is my reply, as I softly kiss your lips. You reluctantly slide yourself from on top of me, and hurry to get things in place. I lay back and relax wondering how I could have been so lucky to have found someone like you. Although my eyes are closed I sense the room getting darker and then I hear the soft sensual music coming form the stereo. As I open my eyes I see you going from candle to candle, carefully lighting each one. The reflections begin to dance on the walls and ceiling, creating a warm erotic glow. With the last candle lit, you return to the bed, laying close beside me. You begin to kiss my face, my neck, my chest, slowly moving your lips to my breasts - giving each a thorough sucking and licking. Your hands roam over my body, exploring and caressing me - bringing my whole body alive with your touch. I feel your big hard cock pressing against me as you begin to slowly spread my legs and position yourself to enter me. I willingly open up to you - I have been longing to feel you deep inside me all week. I cannot wait for your big, hot, hard cock to spread my cunt and slide deep inside me. You lean down and begin kissing me passionately, massaging first my breasts, then pulling on my nipples, then your hands slide under my ass and start massaging it gently. Your cock is rubbing up and down the length of my hot wet pussy lips. I feel like I am going to die if I don't feel you inside me soon. I am moaning and moving with the slow rhythm of your body against mine. You stop for a moment and look in my eyes. "I want you so badly Mistress, I want to feel your hot wet pussy gripping my cock as I make love to you, I want to hear you moan as every thrust goes a little deeper, and a little harder into your dripping hole. I want to see the love and lust in your eyes as you press your body ever closer to mine, waiting for that moment when you know that I will explode deep inside you with stream after stream of hot wet creamy cum. And be sure my Mistress there will be load after load pumped deep in you - for I have done as you asked, and my balls are heavy with cum just for you." With those words, you pull back, open me up with your fingers, and plunge deep inside me. "Mmmmmmmmmm oh god baby - you feel bigger than ever!" I half speak - half moan as I feel you fill me up and stretch me wide open. We lay there - you buried deep in me, and I swear I can feel your cock pulsating inside me. You start kissing me softly on my lips, my neck, turning my head and kissing and licking my ears. I begin to press my hips into you, you know what I want, and you begin thrusting in and out of me - long full strokes, bringing your cock right to the entrance and then shove it back in deep, in and out, in and out.... "Mmmmmmm ohh yes baby .... that is what Mistress wants. To feel you big and hard sliding deep inside me. Ohhh yes, that feels sooo good!" You continue thrusting slowly in and out of me. You continue to kiss and caress me as you make sweet love to me... I feel like I am in a dream, every inch of my body is sensitive and craving your touch. I look deep into your eyes and see the love and devotion. I begin to move my hips a little faster, wanting you to pick up the pace, I want to feel you pounding in and out of me. You know what I want too and you start plunging deep inside me - faster and faster ... in and out - deep long strokes. "Mistress I am so very close, I am doing my best to hold back." you half whisper, hold moan in my ear. "Just a few more strokes my pet, I know that you are wanting to empty those bulging balls deep inside me, just hold on a little while longer." You look at me with loving acknowledgment, you always try so hard to please me - even when you are aching to find release. Just a few more strokes and I kiss you so softly, yet passionately, "Now my love, give me all that you have - every drop, pump that seed deep inside me - now!" With a series of moans and shivers I feel you exploding deep inside me ... I feel like I am going to overflow with all of that hot creamy cum and your big hard cock buried in me ... it feels so wonderful! "Mmmmm ohhh yes baby, yessss ... yessss give me every last drop." I contract the muscles of my pussy as I milk every last bit of cum from your cock. Slowly you come down from the high of your orgasm and slide out of me reluctantly. This time I cradle you in my arms with a whispered promise ..."Don't worry my pet - there is much more to come." We will call that Chapter One ... I think that I will enjoy adding to this one. A Special Day * * * * * Click Here to listen. (6.5 min/RealMedia) * * * * * A Special Day I wrote this on your birthday.... ************** ******************** I startled awake at dawn. I could feel my whole body tingling and I wondered why. I stretched out my hand towards the bed-side table and grab the alarm clock. I noticed that it's just a few minutes past six. Normally, you would have been out on your early morning run by now, but today, we both slept through the alarm probably because of last night exhaustion. We were both up till the wee hours of the morning. I return the clock and look down at you. Your blonde hair is splayed all over the pillow, while some lay on my chest, which is where your head has been resting all through the night. I could feel your hot breath on my left nipple as you sleep. I guess that was the reason for the tingling sensation I felt when I woke up. Gently, I lifted your head from my chest and slide my aching arm from under you. You moaned but did not awaken. I leaned down and start tickling your cheek with my eyelids. You love it when I do that. You stirred but didn't wake, so I continued. Lazily, you stretched up and hold my head steady. I know I am caught, so I sealed your lips with mine. I didn't want to complicate matters so early, so I give you a gentle kiss and rise from the bed, pulling you along. You give a small whine. Then your eyes widened immediately as you jumped out of the bed. I know you've just noticed the time and you're scared that you are late for your early morning 5mile run, but I know a one day miss will not upset your routine, so I grabbed your keys as I escape from the room. I entered the other bathroom and brush my teeth, and then I splashed cold water on my face in readiness for the big event. I entered the kitchen and wandered around. I want to make you breakfast but I can't cook. So, I manage to brew a pot of coffee before you walked in, all ready to start your jog. "Baby, do you see my keys?" You ask. I keep my back to you because I know that you'll read the truth from my face if I turn. You've always been able to do that. "No, baby." I replied. "I'm sure it's here somewhere. Can you open the door, please?" you asked. I silently continue pouring the coffee. My mind is whirling around looking for a good reason that I'll give as to where my own keys are. "I. J.?" you called. You hate when I don't respond to you. Gingerly, I turn and thrust a cup into your hand. You didn't really want to accept it but you were forced to, because of the way I released it immediately it touched your fingers. 'Baby, can't you stay? Just this morning?" I asked. You shake your head as you take a sip of the coffee and grimaced. You take another sip and place the cup back on the table. I know that the coffee must be horrible like always. I take a sip and confirmed that it is, really. I dump my own cup beside yours as you made to leave. "Kathy?" I called in a small voice. You turn immediately and look at me. I never really call you that except when I really need something; like now and you know it. You turn and come back to me. I know you will because you've never been able to deny me anything. "I. J. what do you want?" you ask in a displeased voice that I know you are just putting on for my sake. "Have breakfast with me." I said "You know I don't ..." you started "Just fruits, please?" I said cutting you off. You heaved a big sigh as you sit on the kitchen chair; I rush to get a bowl of fruits I kept in the fridge last night. As I sit opposite you, you reach across and touch my face tenderly. "You know I love you, right?" you said I nod as I shoved a strawberry into your mouth. You lean back on your chair as you bite into it. But the juice filled your mouth and spill over, running down the left side of your mouth. I lean over and with my tongue, followed the red line from your chin into your mouth. I could feel your mouth open under mine, but I leaned away before you could really kiss me. I pushed a second berry into your mouth. You chewed this one with caution as your gorgeous eyes study me intently trying to decide what I am playing at. Carefully, I cut the apple and feed you that too as you continue watching me. You are beginning to make me nervous. You always manage to do that just by staring at me. After awhile, I get up and made to clear the table, but you protested and insist that you have to do it. I know you will offer to do it. I had chosen that moment to do the dishes because I don't want you following me if I leave the room. But before I could escape, you notice me crossing my legs as I stand. You know I always do that if I really need to pee. "Where are you going?" you ask as I made to exit the room. "Be right back." I throw over my shoulder at you. You know where I am going to, but I hope the dishes will keep you occupied till I return. When I enter the bathroom, I pull down my shorts short to pee. As I pee, I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation but that didn't last because the next thing, I feel your presence and my eyes sprang open. "Oh baby, no. you know I hate it when you do that?" I groaned but you smiled at me sweetly. "I know, but I love watching you pee." You replied. I get up and turn my back on you as I wipe. I feel the blush spreading all over me because I know you are still watching me. I wash my hands and silently stand by as it brow dried. I turn around and smile at you. Then, without warning, I placed my hands on your shoulder and at the back of your knees and lift you up. You shouted before you realized that I've got you; then, you snuggled up into my neck. I take just two steps before we both crumpled to the floor in a fit of laughter. When the laugh subsides, I got up from the floor and climbed the bed. From there, I beckoned you to me, but you slowly shook your head, 'no'. I know you are playing hard to get. So, I get up and start stripping for you, I put in a little twist and whine as I strip. When I am naked, I turn around and face you fully. Your eyes immediately rushed to my boobs. You've never been able to resist my size 34cc boobs with their engorged nipples and as always, you didn't disappoint. You immediately sprang up from the floor and tackled me. We both fall back on the bed. Then you proceed to attack my swollen brown nipples. I moan because I like it when you bite me. "Yes, baby harder." I moan as I feel you bite me again. I push you off and rise with you. I pull off your jogging suit and pants immediately. Then, I push you down and attack your small breasts. Your pink nipples are rock hard—showing how aroused you are. Gently, I caressed and suck on them, running my tongue all over your chest. I love sucking your breasts. Finally, I slid up and claim your lips. You moan loudly and I respond with my own moan as our lips melted together. Our tongues clashed and I make a slurping noise as I try to swallow your tongue. You wrestle it back and draw mine into your mouth and proceed to devour me. I could feel you breathing into my mouth as I know you must feel me too. As I made to slide down your body, you use both hands to hold me steady as you continue assaulting my mouth. My hand slide down between our bodies to your oozing pussy. You are so wet that my fingers become drenched immediately. I use my fingers to flick on your clit before inserting two inside you. When I made to slide down your body this time, you released me and even gave me a gentle shove. I wasted no time in planting my tongue inside your pussy. As usual, I marveled at how sweet you taste. I flick my tongue on your clit, and then I shifted and licked all over your vagina. My tongue is doing the waltz on your pussy as my hand keep pumping you—in and out. Very soon, I feel you tightening and clenching on my fingers and I know you are about to cum. I increased my efforts. "Oh yes! Right there baby..." you moan and I respond with a moan also. "Oh God! You are... you are...yes, oh... baby... yes yes...baby... baby... I'm... I'm..." then you screamed and sprang up in the air. Your whole body is hanging in the air except your feet and your shoulders. You are shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave crash into you. Yet, I stayed with you, tonguing and fingering your pussy. Finally, your trembling reduced and you fall back on the bed, gasping for breath. I slip out my fingers from your pussy and shove it into my mouth. I suck on them and suck on your pussy simultaneously for a long time. You've been quite for a long while that I thought that maybe you've passed out, but when I slide up, I am shocked to see that tears are silently running down your beautiful face. I freeze in shock and start wiping your tears. "Baby, what is it? Did I hurt you?" I ask in alarm. But instead of answering, you shake your head. I could feel my own tears forming. I hate making you cry especially today that I want everything to be perfect for you. "Kathy? Was I too rough?" I ask as my tears brim over and run down my cheeks. "Kathy?" I said choking. You see my tears and swallow hard trying to calm yourself so you could speak. "Hush baby, I am fine physically. It's just my ... my..." you stop and sniff as fresh tears run over. "Your what? "It's just my heart that is aching." You replied "Why is that?" I ask wiping my tears. "Because I love you so much it hurts and it scares the shit out of me." You gushed out. "You don't have to be scared. I love you too. So much." I replied as I bend to kiss you. I could taste your tears in the kiss as I know you must taste mine and it adds to the intimacy between us. We have never been as passionate in bed as we were just now. As we kissed, I reach out under the pillow and pull out a package tied in blue and white ribbon. I know you'll love it because I noticed the way you looked at it the other day we were at the store. I break the kiss and sitting up from you, handed the package to you. Your face registered surprise as you accepts the package and flip it over trying to determine what is inside. I watch you intently as you give up trying to guess and rip the wrapper apart and tore open the package. As you see what is inside, you gasped loudly. "Oh baby! You shouldn't ..." "Happy birthday, sweetheart." I whispered cutting you off. Your beautiful eyes widened and you stare at me in shock. I return the gaze and watch as your eyes fill up again, then your mouth open and all that could come out is just 'oh'. This is your first birthday with me and you hadn't thought that I'll know when it is. I reach up and tenderly wiped your tears before reaching down to kiss you. We kissed slow and tenderly for a long time, before I straighten up. "I love you, baby." I whispered stroking your face. "I love you too, baby. So much." You replied as you draw me down to you again. THE END. A Special Day in the Life Ch. 00 What or who is "The Clitoris Alliance" Please allow me to summarize 100,000 years of human history for you in a few sentences. 100,000 to 10,000 BC: Men are stupid, only making stone knives, flint arrowheads, and walls to divide people. Women domesticate animals, begin farming, form language, and sew clothes so that all humanity survives the ice age. Here is proof. Mari always picks berries and fruit to bring to her lazy mate, Jon. When he eats them in the cave, of course he just throws the husks, stems and seeds on the floor. Of course, it was Mari who had to clean it up and take it outside. Eventually, Mari noticed that fruit and berries were growing from the rich soil in the garbage pile. You didn't think a man invented farming, did you? More proof? Mari's granddaughter, Beth, had to find grapes for her mate because he insisted and beat her if she failed. To carry enough, she made the first wicker basket and clay bowl. Being frugal. she did not want to waste the juices that were left when he finished his dinner, so she saved them in the first jug of her own design. Days later it had fermented. When her mate drank the world's first wine, she was rewarded with quite a roll in the pile of furs that was their bed. Then he fell sound asleep instead of beating her. Ah ha! Everyone everywhere wanted wine. Trade was born. You didn't think it was a man, did you? Domesticating animals? The men killed everything they saw. It was a woman petting and feeding a lost baby lamb that started everything. Warm clothes? Shoes? Think about it. Everything that made it possible to survive the ice age had a feminine touch. Yeah... OK... men found a brush fire started by lightening and brought it back to the caves. But who do you think thought of cooking food for the first time? 10,000 to 4000 BC: Men are stupid, only making more walls, weapons, and wars. A slave with incredible powers of persuasion begins international trade, scientific advancement, exploration of the world simply by flattering the men who own her. She seems to provide fantastic sex when given silks and spices from distant lands, prompting her "owner" to scurry to seek those items. The tiny village where she served grew to be the first city in the world because of her. Her name was Rhodopis. The Daughters of Rhodopis becomes a hidden guiding force in human development. In their own secret meetings, lesbian domination and sexual slavery becomes the perfect structure for a stable culture. Secretly Dommes guide with incredible efficiency. Slaves obediently accomplish any task commanded of them. Later, the pyramid builders of the Pharaohs begin to worship her in secret. 4000 BC to 1000 AD: Men are stupid. Male dominated empires wage constant warfare. The idiot rulers think they are gods! Men only develop bronze, then iron to make better swords while women struggle to raise families and cook dinner. Art, science, and civilization stumble along sporadically. The Daughters of Rhodopis now have several underground catacomb headquarters from which they manage to prevent the complete annihilation of all human life. 1000 to 1500 AD: Men are stupid, having destroyed art, trade, and science. The secret society known as the Daughters of Rhodopis just barely manage to quietly suggest and prod the men who think they rule the world into some semblance of civilization. The Daughters of Rhodopis choose to build more catacombs under tiny villages that later grow to become London, Paris, Berlin, Peking, and so on because of their guidance. Kingdoms, noblemen, and the feudal system are allowed to grow because these are concepts simple enough for men to grasp and not hurt themselves too badly. 1500 AD to the present: Men are stupid, building little more than bigger and better weapons. The secret society is now known as The Clitoris Alliance and controls most governments and international businesses. Never once have they started a war, but have prevented many. True, they make sex slaves out of unsuspecting girls, but many of the sluts they select would likely have died of STD being forced to work as whores in a man's world. Please bear in mind that even a sex slave may advance to high rank within the Alliance based on her sexual prowess, intelligence, and cunning. There are several secret strongholds of The Alliance around the world to conduct business, train slaves, and continue to promote the advance of civilization. The castle in the following story is mainly a resort for these Dommes, but also a slave training center. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 01 Good morning It's a normal day so far. As I lay curled up on my side in my cell, I watch the first hint of dawn through the barred window high up in the stone wall ten feet above me to my left. It's pretty. All rosy and pink. It's the only light since this cell is pitch black otherwise. I try to scrunch down inside the tattered scrap of rag that's my blanket and ignore it but I know "They'll" come for me soon. I'm right. You can set a clock by them... if you aren't a slave and have a clock. I hear the click clack of stilleto boots in the corridor outside I know I'd better kneel up and prepare for inspection so I do. I struggle to my knees by leaning against the rear wall of my cell. It's hard but I have to do that since my wrists are manacled behind my back so tightly, one link of chain. The rough stone floor of the kennel is so cold on my knees! But if I'm not ready for Them I know I'll get a couple lashes and maybe a few kicks. I bend down to grab my blanket with my teeth, fold it neatly and drop it to my right. I hurry to straighten it with my knees. It's so small that it's like a foot square and a ½ inch thick when folded. I miss it already. I'm naked except for my collar with its heavy chain to the wall ring. I know where and how I'm supposed to kneel. We learn quickly after only a few lashes and barked commands. I move to the required center of my cell, kneeling sitting back on my heels, my shoulders back and head held high. They must be able to see me plainly or I will be disciplined. The chain from my collar drapes down my back loose, hanging from the massive iron ring bolted to the wall a few feet behind me. Two guards come in through the heavy iron door as usual. I can always hear clattering keys for a second and the locks clank as they unlock it. Then the huge door creaks open. It must be hard to even move that thing. The guards always huff and puff and grunt. It's the usual two guards. Black leather uniforms, real butch buzz-cut hairdos. I don't know their names because why would they tell a slave? If I'm asked anything I just answer "Yes Mistress" to everyone anyway, so it doesn't matter. They do look hot though. I've been trained to think of "Them" only in terms of instant obedience, and total submission. It does not take long before you dream longingly of their domination since it's about the only human relation you have. Their uniforms only enhance your fearful admiration. Thigh-high stiletto boots with spurs, leather skirts that come only halfway down to their knees tight across their butts, leather corsets with lots of buckles and laces, all with motorcycle jackets with chrome studs over that begin to mean undeniable authority to you. Their spiked leather wrist bands look so cruel. Those inch long spikes are sharp, I know. The matching studded belts slung low across their hips really sets it off too. With handcuffs, whips, cattle prods, keys, and heaven-only-knows what else hanging from those belts you know they mean business. The blond one shines a bright light in my eyes. I straighten my back even more, thrusting out my bosom farther. The brunet rears back and cracks her whip an inch from my ear. I can feel the wind blast but she doesn't hit me. I must have done it correctly today. I bow down all the way, forehead on the stone floor.. "Good morning Mistresses!" I chirp cheerfully, " this slave begs to ask how she may serve today please?" They ignore what I say but i know if I had not said exactly that I would have been lashed or zapped with the cattle prods.. The brunet unlocks the padlock from the wall ring while the blond holds the light. The brunet wraps my collar chain, which is now my leash, around her left hand twice. She lashes at me with her whip and does not miss this time. I don't know why, perhaps I moved an inch. My right shoulder sears with sharp pain. The tip of the whip curls down to my tit. That will leave a welt I know. "COME bitch!" she barks at me and yanks my chain twice. I have not been given permission to stand yet so I crawl after her as fast as I can. The blond zaps my right ass cheek three times in rapid succession. "STAND UP you stupid fucking slave bitch! Do you think we have all fucking day?" She screams at me. I stand at once and hurry to heel the brunet who's already walking out the door tugging on my leash. Outside of my cell I see the usual line of slave girls. I smile at a couple because the guards are busy and not watching me. That's really brave of me actually cause without permission we are not permitted to do anything at all. Just that smile and I could have been lashed or zapped. I like honeypot though, she smiles back too. Her name was Sasha before she was enslaved but we are not permitted to use those names. The brunet stomps up and down the line of girls lashing here, zapping a girl there, barking "STAND STRAIGHT! TITS OUT!" a couple times while the blond padlocks my leash to the back of Sasha's collar. All of us slaves are in one long chain now. I'm fourth in line. At the front of the line is the biggest baddest bitch guard of them all. She must weigh four hundred pounds. She's got a tight grip on Candy's leash and is whipping Candy's tits non stop, pretty much for fun as far as I can tell. I can not see Candy's face but I'm sure she's just biting her lips together to be sure to make no sound without permission. The bad-ass bitch guard YANKS Candy to the next cell and of course we all follow. Our chains are only about three feet long so we get to be pretty good buddies this way. If "They" are not looking we frequently finger the girl behind us when we bump together. Since our hands are chained behind our backs we might as well have a little friendly fun even if it is dangerous to risk a lashing. I hear the clattering of keys, the whole creaking door routine again. I hear Sally beg with the proper fake cheerfulness, "Good morning Mistresses!" This slave begs to ask how she may serve today please?" A couple whiplashes later, Sally is fifth in line behind me. I grit my teeth as the blond walks up and down the line zapping us. The brunet lashes here and there almost at random. They must love their jobs. None of us dare say anything, not even a whimper. We know better. I guess when the guards are sure we're totally cowed, completely under their control, the Big Bitch yanks Candy's chain. We start marching down the corridor. This is the way to breakfast. Still chained collar to collar, about three feet apart, we are poked and prodded, lashed and zapped toward a trough of goo laying on the stone floor. It's a foot wide, three or four inches deep. It's full of slave porridge. We all kneel before the trough, hands folded behind our backs as best we can, shoulders back, boobs thrust out. We wait until given permission to eat. I'm not sure what it is but it does keep us alive. It tastes like dog food. It is warm, or was maybe an hour ago anyway. Sometimes I find a hunk of melon or a piece or fish in there. It's a surprise every day. Don't swallow the feathers though. They give me the runs. I think they're from seagulls found dead on the beach. The head Guard barks "EAT!" and we all stick our faces in the goo. Lapping it with our tongues, sucking up a hunk of meat is what they want to see. "Good training" is what They say. After about five minutes The Big Bitch always yells "KNEEL UP!" Of course we stop eating immediately and settle back on our heels, good posture with tits out, hands still folded behind our backs. We'd better do it fast and all at once or whips fly, believe me! We do. Actually five minutes is enough. I'm always full. As icky as it is, I think it's fortified with vitamins, probably designed for livestock but good nourishment nonetheless. Most of us have goo on our faces, in our hair, dribbling down our bodies. How could we not? We are whipped without mercy but allowed to lick each other clean all while They scream "FILTHY ANIMALS!! DISGUSTING SLUTS!!" at us. They must love their job. It's the same every day. But Sasha and I are good buddies now. She licks me tenderly and carefully. Actually Sally and I do each other as best we can too, all with no hands allowed, only lips and tongues, hands must still be folded behind our backs in our manacles. After we're inspected and judged to be clean enough, we're dragged out of the room. After a trot down a few corridors, for exercise I think, we're dropped off one at a time to different jobs so-to-speak. They always start with the last girl in the chain. Today I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eyes as Sally is unlocked from the back of my collar. I see her leash handed to a Mistress with a wicked smile on Her face, dressed all in maroon latex. Sally immediately falls to her knees and starts kissing and licking the Mistress' feet. I don't know that Mistress but She looks SO wicked hot I bet Sally is going to have a fun day. I'm not paying enough attention and feel my collar tugged as the line moves away. I know I'm next. I swallow hard. Am I going to scrub floors in shackles? Will I have to belly dance or sing? Perhaps I'll be chained to a huge kettle in the kitchens to make slave porridge? Maybe some Mistress wants to try out new torture devices? I shudder. It could be anything. We are objects, toys, property to be used any way at all. I'm next is all that I know. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 02 The stone floor is cold and rough under my bare feet, but i'm used to it. This floor is hundreds of years old, worn by the bare feet of slaves, the high heels and boots of Mistresses, the occasional dragging of chains and devious bondage devices of all sorts. The texture is grainy and lumpy. Some of the mortar between stones is missing, some edges are chipped and sharp. You must be careful to not stub your toe in the joints in the stones or cut your foot. You are whipped if you damage Clitoris Alliance property, even if that property is you, a slave. We move down the corridors in our line. I watch the chain from the back of Sasha's collar to the front of mine sway side to side as we walk. I sneak glances at the Guards hoping their whips stay coiled on their belts. I'm very careful to walk like we were taught, like a fashion show runway model. None of us want to be whipped for being sloppy. I step with my toes pointed down, place my left foot a bit too far to the right, roll my hips, then step the same way with my right foot too far to the left, etc. I do this all the time without even thinking about it anymore. We were all trained like this in our first months with many whiplashes and cattle prod jolts until we stand, walk, kneel perfectly. We are trained to always look like simmering sex on a low boil. Walking this way we form a line of swaying asses and boobs. I also watch Sasha's ass. She has a sweet one. Full and lush. She rolls her hips so sexily as she moves. I wish I had her hips. I find myself wishing we were caged together. That could be nice. Much warmer to snuggle with than a tattered old threadbare blanket I'm sure. I have not seen a man in years. We are trained for oral sex, five hours every day for the first few months of our enslavement. Images of beautiful vaginas, thoughts of delicious tastes and hypnotic aromas fill my mind. We are whipped without mercy for the least hesitation. We might possibly be rewarded with a chocolate if we are judged to be adequate. Does that sound silly? You must not have lived it. I wanted those chocolates and earned quite a few. My pleasant daydream is cut short. The Big Bad Bitch Guard stops the line of us slaves. I make sure my shoulders are back, my tits way out, my left knee is flexed slightly so my hips are in a provocative pose because I know I'm going be examined closely now. It's my turn to go to work. The brunet guard slaps back and forth between my thighs with her riding crop. "SPREAD YOUR LEGS SLUT!" She yells. I place my left foot farther out with my knee bent more, my toes pointed to show off my calves. I cock my hip saucily. The blond is unlocking my leash from Sasha's collar. Out of the corner of my eyes I see an ornate door to my right that opens slowly. I don't dare turn my head to look but keep my eyes straight ahead like we're supposed to. A beautiful Mistress steps out of Her boudoir. Gawd! She's SO hot! I suddenly feel warm deep inside. My nipples get rock hard. I do love Mistresses. We must. We are trained to beg to please and love or we are punished severely. She looks so regal to me, relaxed and wicked and gorgeous all at the same time. A shimmery satin flowing robe or cloak swirls around Her legs as She steps closer. She's got a hot bod! Her waist cincher shows off Her luscious tits so well. Everything She wears is cherry red and it looks Devine on Her, especially with Her fabulous auburn hair. I love Her ankle strap stiletto sandals. But my eyes go right to the quirt in Her right hand. I swallow hard. But i feel myself become flushed and know I've blossomed open like a flower and am becoming wet. I can not help it. She is a Goddess to me. The blond guard goes to hand my leash to the Mistress but something's wrong. She does not take my leash. She stands with Her fists on Her hips, legs spread wide in a threatening stance, and glares at the guards. With a voice as cold as ice, each word dripping with venom... She slowly, clearly enunciates each word, just above a whisper but very menacing .... "I SPECIFICALLY Ordered A Slut With Waist-length Raven-black Hair, Size 4, C-cup bosom. How DARE You Bring THIS Animal to ME?" As fast as lightening, the Mistress slashes Her quirt across the brunet Guard's face, directly to Her left cheek! I almost shit myself. I tremble. I've NEVER seen anything like this before! A Mistress lashed a Guard! OMG!!! The guard does not even flinch. I'm astounded as she bows slightly at the waist like maybe a Prussian military officer would in the 18th century, clicks her heels together. Her spurs jangle. A small trickle of blood oozes from the fresh wound on Her cheek. "Mistress, please accept my apology," the Guard says in a very professional tone. "This beast is the best we have. It IS a size 4, C-cup, with waist-length hair. It is thoroughly trained. When we saw your specifications last night, we did not have time to dye its hair. It is a rather pretty shade of brown though, don't you agree Mistress?" To try to appease the Mistress before She uses that quirt on everybody, I flip my hair out of my eyes, I feel it wave and cascade down my back, tickling my heinie as it always does. I stand straight, shoulders back, hip cocked coyly, tits held high like i'm supposed to. I'm desperately trying to look attractive The Mistress drops Her fists from Her hips. She slowly walks around me, looking me up and down like a questionable piece of meat or a high milage used car. Seconds pass slowly. I start to sweat. She finally snatches my leash from the blond Guard's hand. "It will have to do," the Mistress states. I almost faint with relief. Both guards bow slightly again, click their heels together in their weird sort of salute I guess. They turn back to the line of girls and go about Their business of herding slaves to various jobs. I suddenly realize I had been distracted by this unusual turn of events and had forgotten my training! Oh NO! I do not want to be tortured to death!!. As quick as I can, I fall to my knees and bow low. I kiss Her feet. I extend my tongue and lick Her toes, between Her toes, kiss Her sandal straps. "ENOUGH! Stand. Come." She says, tugging on my leash twice. I meekly follow Her into Her boudoir. She closes and locks the door behind us. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 03 Work clothes I look around the room in amazement. It is very well appointed, beautiful, feminine. Lovely colorful antique furniture, flowers in vases everywhere, velvet draperies, marble statues... it's gorgeous, elegant. The scent of lilac wafts through the room. Love songs play on a stereo softly in the background. I expected dark mahogany or dreary gray stone, torture devices, black iron manacles hanging from wall rings. I'm stunned and slowly kneel not knowing what to make of all this. I do have the presence of mind to kneel like I should sitting back on my heels, legs spread wide, back straight, shoulders back, boobs thrust out. I twist my hands a bit in my manacles wondering if I'm going to be unshackled. Then I notice another Mistress lounging on a fabulous velvet upholstered settee. She's languidly reclining on the plushiest piece of furniture I ever saw, Her one arm casually over the back, Her one leg cocked so you can see "everything." I admire Her slinky neglige, pastel shimmery blue satin. So relaxed. So dreamy. She oozes sex too. I practically drip. She places Her hands on the surface of the settee to rise sensuously, a very feline graceful flow. I AM dripping now. It trickles down my thigh. "What's THAT my love?" She asks of the latex-clad Domme, nodding toward me, "That's not what I ordered." "Darling, that's the best they had. We'll have to make do," The Mistress in red replies soothingly. I realize then I'm with two Dommes in love, in Their boudoir. I wonder what They want with me but keep silent and in perfect position of course. The one in blue lingerie sashays over to me so erotically I wonder if She's had slave training. She lightly runs her fingertips across my shoulder. She lifts my hair. She strokes my cheek. I quiver with desire for more but hold position as I know I must. "Alright Carolyn," She says reluctantly, "We can use her anyway." "Oooo!" I think."Red must be Carolyn." "Stand slave," She says not too cruelly or imperiously, but as if She expects instant obedience anyway. I stand. She takes my leash from Carolyn and walks me to stand between two upright pillars. I see the manacles and think, "Oh. OK. This is more normal." I hold my arms away from my back to make it easier for Her. I notice that even the manacles are feminine and pretty. They look like silver bangle bracelets and the chain is cute and light like a necklace. I like them. I do want to look pretty. In everyday fashion, She closes a cuff on my right wrist, then unshackles my heavy right manacle. She lifts my arms to close the other pretty light cuff around my left wrist before She removes my other heavy manacle. I was never out of restraints for even a second. Then She removes my collar. I understand completely and expect this. Slaves are always, constantly, without exception in some sort of restraint. I'm locked into something before my collar or whatever is unlocked. I'm sure it's a Clitoris Alliance regulation for Dommes. I wouldn't know though because I've certainly never read anything for Mistresses. They must have a "Helpful Hints & Pet Tricks" booklet in a desk drawer somewhere I bet. The blue lingerie Mistress tugs and adjusts my chains. I hear ratchets click as my arms are raised. Of course the ratchets must be locking. I can not lower my arms when I tug against the pretty cuffs. I just stand there meekly, now with my arms straight out and up from my shoulders. "Nance, do you have all the batteries charged?" Carolyn asks. "Yes darling. The outfit is fully operational and checked," the Mistress in blue lingerie states... who probably is Nancy if She's called "Nance" by Her lover. Then I realize what's probably going to happen me. The Clitoris Alliance "Restraint Technology & Fashion Team" makes oodles of outfits, mainly for slaves, that are beautiful but also full of motorized sex toys. They're all the wildest erotic fetish fashion-wear but also have hundreds of tiny batteries and electronic devices built into them. Like those little coin-sized batteries in watches but all wired together and controlled by computer chips. I don't understand all of this but I've worn this suff a gazillion times. They both walk away and return quickly with arm loads of slick shiny black rubber.... something. I can't tell what yet. Nancy casually shakes out a pair of latex hose. She sprinkles talcum powder in Her hands and applies it to my legs in a mater-of-fact fashion. I keep my eyes straight ahead. Of course She can do whatever She wants with me and this is surprisingly pleasant. Now I see why only my wrists are cuffed and I'm standing there like a cross between a "T" and a "Y." "Lift your right leg slave," She says very plainly. I obey. She rolls black latex hose up my right leg, tugs it up, and smooths it nicely. "Now your left" and again I obey. In seconds I'm wearing really cool shiny black hosiery. It feels nice. "Lift your right leg again slave," and She slips a glossy patent leather ballet boot on my foot. She laces it tight. At the top there is a buckle that covers the laces. I hear it click when She closes it. I know immediately it is a lock buckle. She does the same to my left foot and I obey without hesitation. Now I'm about seven inches taller. I teeter on my toes, grateful that my cuffs and chains make it easy to stand but I still step around a bit trying to stay steady. Carolyn lashes at my ass hard and as quick as the blink of an eye. "STAY!" She barks. I freeze. I can feel blood trickling from the fresh cut on my bum. I remember that Her quirt must have a razor sharp tip. "Yes Mistress, slave begs forgiveness Mistress, " I murmur meekly. I close my eyes for a moment, pull on my chains as the searing pain flares, then slowly fades a bit. As I open my eyes I see Carolyn is bringing something towards my face. I try to figure it out and in a flash I recognize it. It's a hood. I've been hooded, gagged, blindfolded a gazillion time but this looks different. The big penis gag does not surprise me. I lick my lips and prepare to have my jaw ache for hours. But there do not seem to be any eye holes. That puzzles me, wondering if i'm supposed to serve in some way blind as a bat. Then as She turns it in Her hands so I see, it looks perfectly slick and smooth from the ouside but has smoked one-way mirror glass lenses. "How cool!" I think. They don't care to see my eyes and want me to look totally enclosed but I will be able to see a little. I am relieved to see nostril holes and even a few holes in the mouthpiece. "Whew!" I think, "At least I won't be snuffed today!" I open my mouth obediently. She jams the gag between my teeth. It tastes a bit bitter and I wonder if it's been cleaned recently as it hits the back of my throat. Thick rubber envelopes my head as Carolyn wraps it around me. It smells pungent. I feel Her pulling my hair out an opening in the top. "Ah ha!" I think, "That's why They wanted a slave with black hair. She fusses with a hair holder so my hair sticks straight up maybe three inches, then flows free down my back. I feel Her tug the hood around the back of my head and lace it tight. I can not really hear any more. There seems to be something stuffed in both my ears. But I can see through the dark lenses. I feel, rather than hear, a series of clicks. I know that sound. There are lock buckles on this thing too. It is not coming off any time soon. I always panic a bit when hooded. I gasp and pant for a few seconds. Then I calm down when I realize I can breathe through my nose and even a bit through my mouth. As soon as I've gotten as used to that as a slave possibly can, They wrap this really cool rubber corset around me. They seem to really be enjoying dressing Their "doll" together. It does look like fun... for Them. "Suck it in," Carolyn says plain and simple. I obey of course and They tighten and tighten and tighten my laces. I can only take tiny shallow breaths now. My boobs are up so high I bet i could bend my chin down to touch them.... if the hood did not seem to have a posture collar built it. It seems I just noticed I can not move my head much. I feel four buckles pulled even tighter over the laces. I feel the click of more lock buckles. This is not coming off anytime soon either. Nancy holds something under my nose so I can see it. She has a devilish smirk on her face. I stare at it wondering what it is. It squirms. It's shiny rubber. It's... it's... OMG!!! it's a pair of panties but it's got two incredible huge motorized squirming dildos sticking up inside!! She just holds it there for me to take in the whole picture. I'm looking at the inside of the thick rubber shorts in dismay. There are two chrome metal things sticking up that look a like thick corkscrews. One is maybe two inches thick, seven inches long. The other is about an inch thick, five inches long. The strange thing is that they both twist about an eighth of a turn, then stop, like every second or so. They jerk like the second hand of a cheap clock. "What's that do?" I wonder. I look close very worried because I KNOW where that stuff is going. There's also these two little nubs, sort of like fingertips above the bigger corkscrew. It slowly dawns on me what the design does. As the screws twist into you, they pull the panties tighter against your mons. The little nubs will squeeze together on your clit. Then since it stops, it all will slide back out a little. It will all still be held tight against you because it is tight rubber of course but the girl wearing those will feel like washin machine agitators are in her butt and cunt. What worries me is that it's all like so slow motion. Just a quick small turn, then stop, pause, quick small turn, then stop, pause. I also know that the batteries in these outfits last for DAYS! Nancy grins. She lifts my feet one at a time. She's putting that... that... THING on me! IN me!! If She could see my face She'd see I'm terrified. She shimmies it up both my legs and stops with it just below my crotch. She fingers me for a couple seconds. It feels SO good I can't help myself. I moan softly, mouthing the hard rubber penis jammed in my mouth. I arch my back to move my pussy closer to Her hand. That's when She wiggle-shoves the things in me! OooooOOooooooOOoooo!!!!! The shock always makes me gasp. It's not bad though. These are much smaller than some stuff I've had shoved into me. I almost relax after a second. Then it starts... quick small turn, then stop, pause, quick small turn, then stop, pause.... and I know it will not stop. I'm being fucked, ass probed in slllooooowwww motion. Every twist sends a wave through my guts, but it's over in a flash. Every twist makes the nubs squeeze my clit, lightly, then fade away. I instantly become sopping wet. That only makes the screws slide back out quicker, so the clit squeeze is lighter. I groan. I twist my wrists in my shackles. I'm frustrated already and it's only been like four seconds. Nancy and Carolyn both stroke my butt, my crotch with Their hands. I tremble. I'm frantic to feel MORE but something's wrong! The rubber is too thick! The front must have a steel plate or sumthin. i don't feel anything of Their hands! Their hands do NOT get me closer to cumming! They tug the shorts up higher and again I feel lock buckles click. I see Them both laugh. It's strange that i can not hear them through my hood. They kiss each other. They watch me squirm and laugh again that I can not hear. They move quicker now, almost done with me I guess and in a hurry to do.... what? I don't know. Carolyn kneels down beside me and grabs my right ankle. In seconds She's locked a spreader bar on my ankles. It has only like a six inch bar. I must stand with my feet close together. I'm puzzled but glad I still have my wrist manacles to help me stand. To my surprise, Nancy unlocks my wrist cuffs. I panic, praying I don't fall on my face but They both help hold me up. The thing in my cunt swirls. my "pleasure button" is pressed again. All of this is starting to really drive me nutty... REALLY! I'm almost in a daze as I realize They're slippin latex shoulder-length gloves up my arms, wrappin a patent leather bolero jacket around me. "Hey! How about that?" I think in amazement, "i'm totally 100% covered in slick shiny black rubber, latex, patent leather!" I actually feel proud that I must look totally hot. I feel even more lock buckles click. I guess I won't be out of this jacket and gloves anytime soon either. The devices in my butt and cunt jerk their tiny little twist. The sensation from my clit fans out thru my body like ripples from a pebble tossed in a pond. I moan. It stops again. "DAMN!!!!!" I think. I tremble. I ball my fists. I relax them. I ball my fists. i'm 99.999% on the edge, teetering on the brink of a glorious wonderful magnificent POWERFUL orgasm, but can NOT get there. I whimper pathetically. I see Nancy laugh. She cutely sticks one finger in Her mouth, Her eyes twinkle, smiling at me devilishly. She's loving this, my predicament. I hardly notice Carolyn take the hobble off my ankles. Nancy doodles Her fingertips around and around my nipples. I can not feel it! "NO!" I think. Nancy laughs more, that I can not hear, and swirls around dancing Her delight. "I must be Her toy or doll or something," I decide. Nancy swirls into Carolyn's arms. They embrace, kissing passionately. I just bobble on my tiptoes in my ballet boots, barely able to stay upright. I can hardly breathe my waist is so strictly constricted. The screws twist. my clit is like a fireworks display, but one seen faintly from a distance. My mind races trying desperately to figure out how I could possibly cum. The devices swirl again. "Arrrg!!" "How in the name of Gawd am i gonna make it thru THIS day?" I wonder. "What in the world do They want me to do??" A Special Day In The Life Ch. 04 I am the toy of the day It's very hard to stand in ballet shoes. Especially rigid booties locked on you so you can't flex your calves or move your ankles or anything. The way your legs are forced you must arch your back, stick your hips forward just to stay upright. New girls are always grabbing for a chair back or pole or something to support themselves. I don't have to do that any more. I grimly remember some of the forced exercises for new slaves from my early days of training. Walking, pony-trotting, running, naked except for ballet shoes, my collar and manacles for miles and miles around a track under the whips of Trainers. We're trained that when the leg cramps hurt like hell we're doing it correctly. I can do anything in ballet boots now. Dance class was almost fun in fact, except for the cattle prods. I stand like a fashion model, one knee slightly forward, hip cocked a bit, trying to look sexy. We must at all times. I was left standing so I must keep this position until something else is demanded of me. The devices in me twitch. I'm sloppy wet inside the tight rubber now. All I can think about is wanting to cum SO bad that it hurts. "Carolyn must be the bull dyke to Nancy," I muse wile I just stand there. They're both fems but Nancy seems to love Her lingerie and must be the bitch, or maybe more of 'The Princess'." Just watching Them is torture for me. I keep wishing I could lick either one of Them and maybe They'd do something for me. The things within me twirl their tiny bit, my clit is squeezed. My vision blurs, I gasp in little pants through my gag and nose holes. "Almost, almost!" I think as the sensations fade again. "DAMN!!! Not quite" I whine in misery as the motors stop suddenly again. I just stand. "Maybe they just wanted another statue?" I wonder while I watch Them locked in each others arms, writhing and twisting together on the settee. I hold my position. The screws inside me sploosh and glurp around in my juices, almost funny if it wasn't so fucking frustrating!!! Carolyn brushes Nancy's hair out of Her eyes affectionately. They sit up. Nancy composes Herself and lights a cigarette. Carolyn reaches to an end table and picks up something that looks like a big complicated remote control or something. Are they going to watch TV? She presses a button. ZZZzzzzzzap! The two metal nubs massing both sides of my clit arc a shock THROUGH my clit! I jump about a foot. I bite the rubber penis gag hard. She presses another button and I hear a screech like feedback from the buds in my ears. She brings the remote control, or whatever it is, to Her mouth. "CAN YOU HEAR ME SLAVE?" blares in my ears as I watch those words form on her lips. I grunt once since I can not even nod my head. Long ago I was trained to make one noise for "yes," two for "no." That's how slaves can reply when gagged. "GOOD GIRL!" blasts in my ears. She fumbles with keypunching or something. "Is that better slave?" She asks and it's at a much better volume now. "We do not want to blow out your eardrums even if you are just slave meat, do we dear?" I whimper twice. "Good girl. Now I will explain what you will do this morning," She speaks into the thing and I can see Her lips move in unison, lovely lush lips She has too. I'd like to taste them. The corkscrew in my cunt twitches and seems especially wicked this time. my rectum thumps as its screw turns. I whimper as my clit is pressed between the two nubs just a bit too lightly. "You will go to my kitchen. I want one light fluffy scrambled egg, two strips of crisp bacon, one slice of lightly browned rye toast buttered and cut in half, hot coffee, one sugar, a dash of cream." She places Her order as calmly as someone at a restaurant. "If the bacon is not crisp or the toast is burnt, well, maybe your cute little clittie will be burnt next. Are we clear slave?" I whimper once pathetically but emphatically as loudly as I can through my gag, clearly remembering the zap of a moment ago.. The screws twitch inside me. My clit practically vibrates with that last squeeze. I moan softly in desperation as it fades away again. "The love of my life will have an omelet, two eggs, lightly browned. you will find four cheeses in the fridge. Mince some onion and green pepper too I think. Oh! And freshly squeezed orange juice for Her. If there is ONE seed in Her drink I may do this for a few minutes." She presses a button. With no warning at all, both of the chrome steel screws deep inside me suddenly warm, get hot, get VERY VERY HOT! I claw frantically at my crotch in terror. I can not stop it! I can NOT stop it!! "Understand slave?" She calmly asks. I yelp once as loud an clear as I can through three pounds of rubber in my mouth and wrapped around my head. The steel corkscrews cool. I'm gasping through my gag. I'm now soaked in squishy sweat inside all my latex and rubber. "Good girl. Go." She states waving Her hand absent-mindedly to dismiss me. She casually lays the remote control on the end table to resume chatting with Nancy. Again there is silence inside my hood. I chew on my penis gag. I trudge to the kitchen to get to work but remember to sway my ass seductively as we were trained when I walk away. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 05 Housekeeping Forty minutes later I'm kneeling at Their feet, holding a serving tray high above my bowed head. Making breakfast of real food that I could smell is horrible torture. Slaves eat porridge made from dog food and whatever dead critters are found washed up on the beach. It's hard to swallow your drool when you've got a rubber dick jammed down your throat too. The freaking devices locked inside me continue to torment and tease me endlessly. While I cooked and thought They might not see, I tried to hump the corner of the counter too, but it didn't work. Once They must have suspected I was trying that and I got a strong zap in my guts. I did not try again. Now I'm Their breakfast table. When I slavishly presented their breakfast, They did not take it. They simply chose to use me as their table. As i'm slllowwwly being fucked, ass probed, and fingered mechanically, They're eating a delightful breakfast. My arms ache. I try not to quiver. I'm sure that if a drop of coffee spilled I'd be fried or zapped or both. Carolyn kicks my knee. I look up. She makes another dismissive wave of Her hand. I guess They've finished. Very careful to not spill anything, I lower the tray. "Yep," I think as I look over the tray. "They finished." I guess They want me to clear the tray and wash up or something and did not want to bother to tell me. There is still silence inside my hood. Her wave was clear enough though I decide and I unfold myself from my knees to stand, just as the devices inside me kick in yet again. I stumble. The glass with a bit of orange juice still in it slides off and breaks on the floor. BIG mistake. Nancy brings both of Her hand to Her face, makes an "O" of Her mouth in mock surprise. Her eyes twinkle with devilish delight though. Carolyn reaches for the control and sadly shakes Her head stabbing at various buttons. "BAD slave! BAD slave must be punished!" She states with stern irony. In a heartbeat I'm screaming in my gag, writhing in agony on the floor, begging. "Mmmm Mmmmm" "Mmmmm Mmmmm" "Mmmm MMMmm" trying to say "no" "no" "no!" My clit is shocked every two seconds for a second that seems like an hour. I'm sure I'll never orgasm again when my clit is shriveled like a raisin. My rectum and vagina are being broiled. I picture what a car cigarette lighter looks like and imagine two of those inside me! It HURTS SO BAD!!!! But something else is happening too. The corkscrew-shaped dildos start turning a FULL turn, stops and REVERSES a full turn, stops, twists a full turn, reverses again and again and again.... non-stop, quick and powerful! The smaller one in my butt now bumpity-bumpity-bumps in my a-hole like crazy, sending shock waves all through my tail and hips. The little nubs on either side of my clit that were squeezing me every couple seconds start to wobble around in slow circles constantly, rubbing my clit, just like fingering it non-stop. "Gawd! Oh Gawd! Oh my Gawd!!" I scream uselessly through my gag. I'm gasping not able to get my breath because my corset is so tight. PantPantPantPantPant is all I can do, tiny little short breaths whistle through my nostril and penis gag holes. I crawl frantically to Carolyn's feet and rub my gagged and hooded face against Her shoes. I can not kiss and lick them. I MUST submit to Her. I'm twitching, screaming, thrashing around while I try to show submission as desperately as I can. The pair of corkscrews twist and twirl within me just like agitators in a washing machine. My clit is swirled around and back and forth by the pair of nubs, and I CUM! I feel myself squirt and squirt and squirt inside my rubber shorts. The pain from the shocks to my clit sets the pace of my waves of orgasm. In that one instant, just a tenth of a second, all of my paingasm training flashes thru my mind, just a jumble of memories.... Every day all new slaves, including me, had to beg for everything; eat, drink, pee, poop, speak, sleep, stand, kneel, everything. And permission was granted only after we lick a Mistress' boots or lick Her to orgasm. Then every few hours, day and night, I was chained or strapped or clamped down totally immobilized and helpless, legs spread wide, and commanded to beg for an orgasm. Every single time I was fingered until right on the brink, then whipped on my cunt, finger fucked more, then clothes pins snapped on my labia lips, fingered, then another pin, a dildo slid in me, then my clit was zapped with a cattle prod, then the Mistress fucked me hard with the dildo, while She snapped another pin on my clit and twisted my nipples one at a time with Her other hand. I would cum in terrible pain. Every day. About every three or four hours I'm guessing. There was no way to tell time. They even woke me up to do this. I never knew if it was day or night, June or September. This all happened deep in a dark dungeon. I was in one cell forever it seemed. All I did was beg, suck a Domme's clit, and be trained. It was always different, cattle prods, clothes pins, riding crops, long needles, painful ointments, whips, different Mistresses every "shift," with one thing always the same. Intense pain always accompanied my orgasm. A Clitoris Alliance slave girl is trained to know she will only cum in severe bondage and excruciating pain. I knew what was happening to me. I'm not dumb. But it does not change that after months of this I dreamt about being pussy whipped to orgasm, yearned to be chained and tortured to get that. I begged for it. If I had to pee or got hungry, I craved licking a Mistress. All of that bubbled and simmered in the background of my mind in the moment while I rub my gagged hooded face against Mistress Carolyn's foot. Just feelings. Just the way I am now. What I consciously thought frantically to myself all in a jumble was... I must submit! I have to get Her to stop the pain Shit that hurts!! Do I look sexy enough like this? OMG! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uhhh!! I must beg Her to like me This orgasm is SO beautiful I do NOT want the pain to stop I must beg Her to stop the pain The pain is so fucking BAD! She's wonderful, I love Her Please don't stop it FUCK! that feels great!! MmmmMMMmmmm I pray I look sexy to Her Gawd it hurts SO good More! I beg it! I think She likes me Uh! Uhhh! Uh! Uhhh! UHHH!! I submit! I submit! My mind was a swirling mess of conflicting terror and joy, fireworks and a train wreck, just like my genitals. I desperately rub my face on Her feet, stroking and caressing them. Whatever She does to me I will accept. My heart pounds. I hope I don't die. I don't want to die. I yearn be Their slave forever. The shocks to my clit stop suddenly. The screws cool and stop moving. The nubs stop wiggling my clit. Mistress Nancy pulls me up to my knees by my ponytail. I see Her say something to Mistress Carolyn, which I can't hear but Carolyn hands Her the remote control. Nancy glances at the remote, glances at me, still holding my ponytail, brings the control to Her lips. I wait eagerly, utterly filled with deep devotion and total focus, 100% of my attention on whatever She might say. "Slave girl? pFffft pFffftt," She blows into the microphone," Can you hear me?" She asks. I whine once. "Good." She says. "you have been a very very bad slave. you WILL clean up your horrid mess." She bends down so Her face is like an inch from mine, a tight painful grip on my ponytail pulling me to Her. "In the cabinet under the sink in the kitchen are rags, a bucket and scrub brush. you will find a dustpan and whisk broom. There is carpet cleaner there too. In the bathroom under the vanity is a hair dryer. In the hall closet is a vacuum cleaner. you WILL get up all the broken glass. you will scrub the carpet, dry it with the hair dryer, vacuum up the dried foam. Understand slave?" I whimper once. She glances at the control in Her hand. Pushes some buttons. The nostril and penis gag air holes in my hood SNAP SHUT!!! "Go. Now slave." She says in an offhand manner, releasing Her grip on my hair, turning away from me as if no longer interested in me. I CAN'T BREATHE!!!! I jump to my feet and run to the kitchen... I put the bucket in the sink, splash in some of the cleaner, turn on hot water to fill the bucket.... I run to the bathroom, dig through the bottles of shampoo and other stuff under the vanity to find the hair dryer, grab it and run... I run to the closet and grab the vacuum.... I drop the vacuum and hair dryer on the carpet and run back to the kitchen... I CAN'T BREATHE!!!! no matter what I try there's NO AIR getting though the tight rubber hood that encases my head! I run to the kitchen, bend down to get the dustpan, and whisk broom, stand up, turn off the water, tuck the dustpan and whisk broom under my arm, grab the bucket in one hand.... I run back to the sitting room and put everything on the floor.... There's no extension cord for the dryer and vacuum!!!! I sob!!!! I run back to the closet in the hall and grab the one dangling from the top shelf... I plug in the cord behind the settee, plug in the dryer and vacuum... I run back to the front of the settee and fall to my knees, sorta slidin to a stop by the spill and broken glass... I'm frantic, sucking my gag. THERE'S NO AIR!!! I sob and pick up the broken glass real quick. I don't need the whisk broom... I'm a total wreck, sweat pouring out of every pore on my body, a squishy, slimy, icky oozy mess in my rubber... Just then, the two screws start to twitch again, the nubs squeeze my clit gently. "Mmmmm Mmmmm," "Mmmmm Mmmmm," "MMMMMM MMMMMMM!" I wail thru my gag!!! I dab at the juice with the rag, scrub at the stain with the brush like crazy... I plunge the scrub brush back in the bucket and scrub more... My lungs ache. my vision gets wobbly and blurry.... I turn on the hair dryer and wave it over the wet carpet. I can't hear it through my hood. I can not feel the air blast or anything through my latex gloves. I don't even know if it's even on!!! I pray that it's on and working!!!! Sllloowwlly I see the water dry... I sob.... The things within me twirl their teeny eighth of a twist, my clit is squeezed, my vision blurs, I try to gasp but there's NO AIR!!!!! The spot on the carpet looks dry, white powdery, looks dry!! "HURRY!" I think... I grab the vacuum, flip the switch, and still on my knees hug it cause I don't think I can stand, running it back and forth over the powder, I pray that it's on cause I can't hear that either... I glance up hoping for mercy but see through a blurry haze the Mistresses are ignoring me, chatting pleasantly even though I can not hear Them... Everything goes gray, then black, I think I fall over still hugging the vacuum..... A Special Day In The Life Ch. 06 Cool air?? I want to pull my blanket around me. I must have rolled over in my sleep and lost it. I don't want to wake up. It's too early. I go to reach out for where I guess my blanket is and discover I can't. I feel unyielding steel rub the sides of my wrists and ankles, hear the little clink sound of links of chain as I try to move. My arms are behind my back? I can't straighten my legs? I hear more jingling of chains as I squirm uncertainly. I reluctantly open my eyes. My eyelids flutter getting used to the light. Turning my head to look around, I see I'm laying on my left side, hogtied with shackles on the floor of the two Mistress' sitting room. My collar slides a little against my throat as I turn my head. I'm facing the settee, sort of half angled toward the front door to my right. "Oh! I'm collared again and naked too," I realize and squirm a bit. My leash chain jingles. I see it drape down from under my chin and that's it's laying across the carpet, hanging down from a ring on the front of the settee. I'm fully awake now. I remember I must have passed out, almost suffocated. I wonder how long I was out? They must have undressed me. I'm still kind of sweaty so it couldn't have been that long ago. That's why I feel chilly. I squirm around a bit in my strict hogtie. The slight jingle of my chains reassures me. my collar feels good. Everything's alright now. My collar is me, what and who i am. Being chained means i'm cared for. I twist my wrists and ankles in my shackles. "Oh! They've got me in 'The Pretty Ones'" I think, quite pleased. That's what us slaves call them when we get a chance to talk together. Clitoris Alliance Mistresses use all sorts of manacles and collars of course. To train a newbie or punish a bad girl there are heavy cast iron ones, three inches wide, a half inch thick. Cast iron is rough and hard on your skin, like coarse sandpaper. The chains can be massive, like you'd expect an anchor chain on a big boat to be. When you find yourself in those you know you've been bad and are being disciplined, or learn it quickly! They're heavy, very heavy, and always leave a rash where they rub your ankles, wrists, and throat. There are LOTS of types and how we are restrained is VERY meaningful to us. But I'm in "The Pretty Ones." This makes me very happy. To be in these and collared again means They must have liked me. I smile. These are like smooth round bracelets almost. The chains are shiny with an adorable curb link, like a nice necklace. I know because my leash chain is that and They have a sense of "style," I'm sure it matches. I flip my hair around and move my head just to hear the pretty jingle." I must have done OK," I think. They must have been happy with me!" I'm quite pleased with myself. The room is empty. Soft romantic music still plays in the background. I figure I've been parked for a while so I guess I have permission to move around. I struggle and squirm, wiggle up to the side of the settee, lean against it to get to my knees. My chains clink and jingle so prettily. I flip my hair, puff out the side of my mouth to try to get it out of my eyes. I look around. "The stain on the carpet is gone," I notice. "I'm glad I did a good job." The bucket and vacuum and stuff is still there. "I hope They let me put that away for Them. This room is too elegant to be cluttered like this." I think, wanting nothing more than to finish my chore. I'd be embarrassed if a Mistress had to clean or pick up anything. I'd deserve a whipping. Suddenly a thought crosses my mind, "Would They have permitted me to breathe if I had not cleaned the spill properly?" I shudder. My station in life makes me wonder in terror. I believe I had perhaps a 50/50 chance of being alive now. My tummy churns with pure fear. I realize that have no choice. This is life. I must do my best to obey with perfection to survive. Oddly, I find myself warm between my thighs again. I cough. My mouth is dry. "I'll have to beg for a drink when a Domme comes back," I decide. I lick my lips. They're dry too. I wonder if it would be too bold to beg some lipstick, balm, gloss, or something. The two Mistresses walk back into the room from what must be a dressing room off to my left, chatting pleasantly with each other. They have changed clothes and look fabulous! So dreamy! Carolyn is in a gorgeous leather cat suit, cherry red again. "She must like reds," I decide. It has a gazillion laces and buckles so it fits Her purrrfectly. She looks so "Domme-y" I feel I ought to worship Her. She even wears a matching red bull whip on the belt slung low on Her hips. Her stiletto boots are to-die-for with their pointed toes and needle heels. My bosom heaves. I'm totally excited just looking at Her! Nancy looks elegant. Wearing something almost like a cute feminine business suit except tan and beige latex and rubber, tailored for a lovely fit. Nice darker-taupe jacket over a bustier, beautiful light beige blouse, lovely calf-length skirt that matches the jacket, slick hosiery that matches the blouse, wicked shoes half like ballet shoes but not like what slaves wear, more like Oxfords. Very tastefully done. It all accents Her figure so well too. She looks delicious. "Ah! The slave is awake." exclaims Nancy, talking to Carolyn as if it doesn't matter if I hear Her. I'm not sure if I should try to kneel up pretty or what, but I see Them walk toward me so I wiggle and squirm to get down on my tummy so I can greet Them properly. I try to do it sensuously like we were taught. No grunts or grimacing allowed. Nancy stops a couple feet from me. Squirming on my tummy rather like a snake, I get as close to Her as my leash allows. I flip my hair out of my eyes again and lick Her shoes slowly, carefully, with long lingering licks. I kiss all of Her shoe laces one at a time, then run my tongue around the edge of the sole in the front where I can reach. She bends Her knees, twists slightly, squatting rather gracefully in my opinion, reaches down and caresses my hair, gently brushing it out of my eyes. I almost purr. "Good girl," She says pleasantly. I'm honored. I'm thrilled. She's so nice to me. I lick fervently, devoutly, very respectfully, eagerly. She grabs a handful of my hair and drags me to my knees. That hurts of course but I don't mind. She's a Domme. I'm a slave. I expect this. It's just how we are handled. She strokes my hair and looks at me. She must like my hair. I bet that's how I was selected today. I'm very proud She likes it. After looking me up and down, She actually smiles at me. I feel flushed. My pussy get sopping wet again. But I'm also thirsty and hungry. I figure I could beg now. "Mistress?" I whisper meekly, " May this slave speak please?" She nods and ruffles my hair in a good natured way. "Yes, granted. What do you want slave?" She asks not cruel or nasty at all. "Slave begs to be fed please Mistress. This girl is hungry and oh so dry," I beg softly, just above a whisper, my eyes down submissively, maybe a bit coy and seductive too, I hope. As I lower my head my hair cascades across my shoulder, down my bosom "all on it's own." I try not to grin, having manipulated that as cleverly as I could. "Of course dear. Granted," Nancy says with a smile. Carolyn smiles too. i'm happy as a lark that I've apparently succeed at being sultry and seductive. The hundreds of whiplashes at my training are paying off! Mistress Nancy slides Her hands under the back of Her skirt, bends gracefully at the knees, sits on the edge of the settee. She settles in comfortably and lifts Her skirt, leans back smiling. I see immediately that She's as smooth and hairless as I am "down there." I'm a bit surprised that She uses pussy makeup just like a slave. Her labia lips are shiny pink with lip gloss. I'm impressed. Very pretty. Mistress Carolyn pours Herself a glass of Pepsi over ice, reclines on the settee too, also smiling pleasantly. To enjoy the show I guess, my show. I wiggle closer on my knees. my ankle shackle chain jingling as I shimmy across the carpet. my leash chain brushing across my tits as it dangles from my collar to the ring. I lean my head and respectfully kiss Her twat, slavishly begging permission to continue. She reaches down between Her legs and opens Herself for me with Her fingertips. She has lovely nail polish I notice. Immediately I'm sopping sloppy wet. I kiss Her clit and slide my tongue the length of Her slit. She opens and moistens. This makes me very happy. I get to work in earnest. I run my tongue all around Her love canal, opening Her more. I feel Her heat, smell Her delightful scent. She's wetter already. I slide my tongue deep in Her. She moans softly, demurely, not like a slave slut like me. I reach in and up, going for her "G spot." I feel the lovely soft spongy membrane with the tip of my tongue. I reach farther and feel like a little bean. She moans. I'm happy. I seem to be doing well. She leans back a bit and pushes Her cunt onto my face more. I massage Her lovingly with my tongue. She's fucking wet as hell now. I kiss all of Her into my mouth and suckle for a moment. This is what we talk about when slaves are caged together, "Mistress wine." We love it. We can't get enough. Personally, I think it's addictive. It might have something to do with that fact that slaves are rarely, if ever, given anything to drink. I'm thrilled to be allowed to drink Her and start lapping like the bitch I am. I want all of it. It's a very nutritious part of a girl's diet. I know that for certain cause my Trainers told me. I lick deep. I circle Her clit around and around with my tongue to thank Her. I slurp and suck at Her Devine juices. Suddenly, heaven comes. She squirts and squirts and squirts. I kiss and lick and suck every drop. A solemn reverence fills me. This is my holy sacrament. I'm careful to lick Her thighs. I could not be more grateful, thankful, appreciative, or impressed. I make sure there are no dribbles or puddles inside Her latex skirt, licking and kissing diligently. She's got a tight grip on my hair now, using me for Her sex toy, rubbing my mouth HARD against Her twat. I obey without question. Totally accepting Her lead as the most natural, correct and proper thing in the world. I feel honored. She sighs contentedly, releases Her grip on my hair, starts to stroke my hair again. I do actually purr, nuzzling Her with my face and mouth. "Good girl, good girl," She mutters still petting my head. Mistress Carolyn is walking back into the room. She must have walked out while I was working and I hadn't noticed. She's got a plate in Her hand. She bends Her knees, gracefully bends down a bit and places it on the floor to my left. It's my lunch. "Oh wow!" I think. "Look at that!" It's mostly slave gruel but it's got Their leftover scrambled egg and omelet too. I see crumbs of bacon and the crust of toasted rye bread. Off to the side is a heap of fruit salad. Quite a treat. "Slave, you may feed," Mistress Carolyn says nicely. "Thank You Mistress!" I chirp cheerfully and wiggle over on my knees. Mistress Nancy gently pushes me over, holding me by my upper arms so I don't fall on my face. I squirm closer to the plate, my leash and shackle chains jingling. I greedily stick my tongue into the food. It's warm too! I discover that the fruit salad is chilled and sweet as I suck a bit of pineapple into my lips. I wiggle and twist my manacled wrists and legs up in the air sort of like a dog wagging its tail. "Awww! Isn't she cute?" Mistress Nancy asks Mistress Carolyn. Mistress Nancy bends down to lay my hair out of the way, strokes and caresses it. "She must really like long hair," I think as I continue to eat happily. While I'm enjoying my lunch, one of the Mistresses unlocks my left ankle ring. my chains rattle and clink as She pulls my leg chain from where it's looped through my wrist cuff chain. I'm no longer hogtied. She relocks the anklet so I'm only shackled now, arms still behind my back of course. I can tell I have a very generous ten or twelve inches of leg chain. I'm grateful. They're so nice to me. I lower my legs. As I'm carefully licking the plate totally clean, I feel one of Them unlock my leash from the ring on the settee. My leash is tugged once. I know i have to stop and pay attention now. I roll to my side and struggle to my knees. Mistress Carolyn is holding my leash. I wiggle to Her on my knees, bend down and kiss Her boots. "Thank You Mistress, thank You," I say between kisses. She tugs my leash not cruel at all so I kneel up. I look up at Her adoringly. She reaches toward the front ring of my collar so I lift my chin. She unlocks the leash. I feel sad for a moment. As She gathers up the chain and puts it on top of the side table with a gentle clatter and tinkling of the links. She commands me, "Now put away your cleaning supplies girl." "Yes Mistress," I say as I crawl to the settee, lean against it so I can get to my feet. It only takes a few minutes. us slaves are trained to do everything in all sorts of restraints. I can cook a four course meal very well as long as I'm not in a straitjacket. Then I can still do it but it takes much longer to do everything holding spoons and stuff only with your mouth. Food can burn that way and then you are whipped of course. This is just normal work. I pick up the scrub brush with my teeth and drop it in the bucket. I pick up the rags in my teeth. I squat to pick up the bucket and carry it behind my back. In the kitchen I carefully push a chair close to the sink with my hip, I climb up on it to dump the bucket in the sink. I do rinse it and the brush and rags properly, pick them up with my teeth before getting down. It takes a couple trips getting up and down from the chair but I get everything. I open the cabinet with my lips and put the stuff away. In just a couple minutes I've dragged the vacuum and carried the hair dryer in my teeth back to where they belong. I think my ankle chain jingles merrily. I think I look cute and stick out my tits proudly. Tossing the extension cord back onto the closet upper shelf takes only two tries. Finished my chores, I go back into the sitting room to see what's next. They're waiting, obviously about to go out. Mistress Nancy has a cute shoulder bag that matches Her blouse and hose. Mistress Carolyn has a clutch purse, cherry red of course, with stunning chrome spikes. "Do not kneel. Stand. Stay," She states as She picks up the leash chain again, I instinctively lift my chin to make it easier for Her. She clips the chain to my collar ring. "Heel," Mistress Carolyn commands, tugging twice. I fall in behind Her, slightly to Her left, a step behind, as She walks to the front door. "Kneel," She says as She points to the floor outside of the door to our right. I see there's a small throw rug there. I kneel and She locks the leash end to a wall ring. "Stay," She commands and I don't think it's silly even though I certainly could not go anywhere. She's actually being nice to inform me what She expects. Mistress Nancy joins Her, closes the door behind Her. Carolyn and Nancy walk away, down the corridor holding hands. I realize I've been parked for pick up and settle down to wait. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 07 Promotion It's pretty comfy parked like this. I feel lucky to have served those nice two Mistresses. Sliding my legs out to the side, I'm almost sitting instead of kneeling, half reclining, half leaning up against the wall. Having like a whole foot of chain between my anklets makes me feel like a queen. The simple throw rug under me seems luxurious. I twist my wrists around in my cuffs behind my back, happy they're "The Pretty Ones," which are nice and smooth. I do wish there was a litter pan nearby. I shift my position and squeeze my legs together hoping a Mistress comes by so I can beg to be "taken for a walk." I gotta pee! It's busy in this corridor being in a Mistress residential part of the castle. Every now and then a chain of slaves is driven by on their way to various chores. One of the slave drivers will surely pick me up soon. It's like waiting for a bus, except the Guard chooses you. I hope I get the chance to beg soon. I gotta pee! There are whiplashes and the clattering of chains coming from around the corner of the corridor to my left. Guards are growling orders so it must be a line of girl coming from or going to work. Sure enough, I see a Guard holding a leash come around the corner. Then I see the girls. They're low slaves. Probably barely trained. The poor girls are in the heavy cast iron manacles. we call those "The Punishment Ones." they're forced to crawl down the hallway, their heavy leash and manacle chains dragging along the floor. The collars they wear fill me with sympathy. I've worn them. Being three inches tall they chafe your collar bone and the bottom of your chin. You can hardly move your head. The shackles rub your wrist and ankle bones raw. I had to crawl like that too years ago. When a "5" girl begs to stand or sit, the answer is almost always "NO!!" and a lash. But we were happy to be out of the training dungeon. The collars are very heavy for another reason. Since grade 5 girls and below must crawl, the heavy chains are locked to each girl's front collar ring. So each girl has two heavy chains pulling down on the front ring of her collar. The one chain hangs under her, leading to the girl behind. It usually hangs low between your cleavage. It might rub your snatch if the girl behind you falls too far behind and the chain pulls tighter. The other dangles under your chin going to the girl in front of you. To be nice, you stay close to her. Otherwise you will saw the chain into her pussy. If and when you get to be a grade 6, your collar and shackles are still three inches and thick, but you graduate to polished stainless steel. Those feel much better against your skin, weigh a lot less, and slaves feel like they've accomplished something. "Nice Ones" is what we call those. At least that's what low slaves think. Memories of being a low slave flood back into my mind. We slaves have grades and are very aware of that, very much like rank in the military. Every time we are used, every time we are trained, we are graded in many different things. Add it all up and average it out and that's our rank. A new girl is a 0.000. When she first learns to beg to serve and lick a Mistress's feet as soon as she sees a Mistress, she might get zero to ten for a grade just for that. This applies to stuff like "Pain Love" when a slave is graded on how sexy she is under torture, and "Bondage Grace" for how sensuously she poses and moves in restraints. There are lots of tests, some of it very plain;. "Servile Respect," "Housekeeping," "Dancing," "Cooking," and the all important "Oral Skills," just to name a few. Lots. Every class, every single time a Mistress uses a slave, the girl is graded. A slave might serve five hundred times a year and maybe get four thousand grades! The Clitoris Alliance takes this very seriously. It's all scrupulously recorded. We slaves are very careful what we do too, very careful. Just one wrong facial expression and you can get a zero in "Servile Respect," dragging down your score. To even get out of training a girl must get past 5.000. I remember a girl who always cried, fought her restraints, never submitted. she was a 1.040 after a whole year in training! She had been carried over from an earlier class to even be in my class. One day the Mistresses took a chain of us all the way up on the ramparts of the castle wall, my whole class. It was freezing, Oh how the winds howled! They took that girl off of the chain. Two Mistresses held her by her arms while another took off her collar. We were all terribly scared wondering what this meant. The three Dommes picked her up and threw her over the wall!!!! It's a one hundred foot drop to the huge boulders below in the crashing surf. Those boulders have sharp edges. The water is icy cold, full of ice floes. We heard her wailing and screaming become fainter and fainter as she fell. Then there was just the howling wind. We learned a lot that day. Every one of us begged very sincerely, very fervently when we got back to the dungeon. We licked and kissed devoutly, knelt prettily, shoulders back, tits thrust out and held high, posed and showed off our restraints like jewelry models every time a Domme even glanced at us. The girls crawling by me under the whips of their slave drivers must be 5's, newbies. Probably being taken to scrub grease pits in the kitchens or clean litter pans in the cells of higher grade slaves. I do feel sorry for them but I also think they deserve what they get. If a girl doesn't know enough to thank a Mistress while she's being whipped then she deserves to be whipped harder. I may only be a trained animal but I know how to survive. I'm an 8 and very proud of it too!!! The Mistress at the end of the chain of crawling girls looks sternly at me as She passes. She sees my pretty shackles. She sees I've got a carpet to kneel on. She probably even sees I've been given a very generous foot of ankle chain and guesses I do not belong with the slaves She's herding. She goes back to whipping the girls in front of Her, ignoring me. I consider begging permission to pee but decide not to chance it and keep quiet. I do NOT want to be added to THAT chain! It was not long before another chain of slave girls was being driven by. These were different. They wear pretty manacles like me. Even more, some of them are in dazzling silk outfits like belly dancers with bangles, necklaces and even belled anklets! Others are in fabulous rubber corsets and skirts. Another has colorful swirly body paint covering every inch of her. One even has a golden collar and shackles all studded with sapphires! They all have gorgeous hairdos and makeup. "Gosh! They look lovely!" I think. "They must be 9's!!!" I've never met a 10. I'm not sure they exist. A slave would have to have been be perfect in every way from her very first day. There are myths about 10's in the past. All girls, even Mistresses go quiet when telling the tales of their stunning beauty, their perfect servitude, their legendary grace. I only know a couple of the girls. Sometimes high slaves can be bitches and don't talk to lower girls. But I see Juanita, Samantha, and Sarah who are nice. I smile at them. They smile back. The lead Mistress stops and looks at me. I decide to chance it. I bow down placing my forehead on the floor. "Mistress?" I plead just above a whisper, "may this slave beg to speak please?" "Granted. What do you want slave?" She replies a bit wearily. "Slave begs to pee please. This slave has not been walked all day and NEEDS it please Mistress," I whine pathetically. The Mistress scowls, probably on a tight schedule to deliver the girls, looks around deciding what to do. She locks the leash of the first girl in Her line to a wall ring on the other wall to park the entire line of girls. I admire the girls deeply. Each one stands perfectly, like a model or perhaps a porn star. They ooze sensuality. They radiate sex like waves of heat you might see reflecting off the sand in a desert. "Very well. Can't have puddles on the floor can we?" She states plainly as she unlocks my leash from my wall ring. "You may stand slave." "Oh THANK You Mistress! Thank You!" I reply. Inspired by the chain of slave girls, I unfold from my reclined position gracefully, stand with my right knee flexed slightly, right toes pointed down. I cock my hip to one side and flip my hair back over my shoulder. The Mistress studies me quietly for a moment. I'm not sure why. She tugs my leash twice gently. "Come. Heel," She commands. As She turns to walk down the hallway, I fall in behind Her on Her left, a step behind. I consciously sway my hips as I walk so the high slaves behind us do not think I'm a low girl. Slave girls do try to impress each other too. We have our pride. Three doors down the corridor we pass a Mistress's room. It's easy to tell what it is. There's a sign on the door like a coiled whip. That's not for me I know. I've cleaned those though. They're very plush and elegant like in the fanciest restaurants only far more so. The bidet alone is fabulous, usually gold! The "thrones" are real thrones! The fourth door has an image of a collar and chain on the door. The Mistress leads me in there. It's rather dark, just dreary gray stone walls, a plain room maybe fifteen feet long and eight feet wide. A couple gas lights designed to look like torches flicker on the left. It's smelly too. I wrinkle my nose. There is a line of four litter boxes along the right wall. Each about three feet square, maybe six inches deep. They're full of grains of crushed clay of course. She leads me to the closest one. "Squat slave. You may pee." She says and I sigh with relief. "Yes Mistress, THANK YOU Mistress." I say as I step into the square and squat. While I'm doing my business, The Mistress takes a device off Her belt like a smart phone or something. I'm worried for a second it's a tazer but i quickly see it's not. She scans the very small bar code on my collar. She then gets all my records. She smiles. I wonder why. "Congratulations slut," She says to me. I'm puzzled. She turns the display toward me. I've been shown my records many times before. The Clitoris Alliance is very efficient and it helps a slave improve herself to know where she stands... ummm.... kneels. At the top of the display it just shows... Slave Name: hotbox, Original Name: Janet, Property#: 000-172-358-771 Enslaved: 2005-04-21 Training and Usage Events: 6,574 There's a long list of stuff like i'm a dress size 4, 5' 2" tall, measure 35-22-34, C cup, collar 14.2, wrist cuff 6.3, etc., etc. The Mistress skips past pages showing laser scans of my body. They have every possible measurement of me you can imagine. If custom shoes or gloves or restraints are to be made, they will fit me precisely. She also scrolls past my medical records showing all my shots, all my exams, every blemish on my body. Then my grades follow. As She scrolls down the page I see my embarrassing 6's, like dance is only 6.608. I still think I belly dance very well in manacles but that one Mistress two years ago was drunk. She probably gave me a zero because She couldn't even see me. I remember it like it was yesterday. The dance cage was pretty, like a gilded bird cage with the bars of a fanciful floral design. There were long dangling chains from the ceilin to my collar and cuffs. Not to restrain me. Just to look pretty. I danced my heart out, swirling and swaying, jingling my decorative chains and belled anklets as i danced. The Mistress chose dumb head-banger heavy rock music! Hard to be seductive to that! Then I think She fell asleep! You never know if you're being watched on camera or recorded to be judged later. You never know if this is some sort of endurance test. I kept dancing to that ONE old Metallica song for what must have been nine hours until I thought my feet must be bleeding. I kept trying to come up with new thrusts, bumps, and grinds, jingling my chains and belled anklets differently all the time. I still think She must have given me a zero because She slept through it all. I know most of my grades. Since they're averages they change slowly. But I'm puzzled again. Almost all of my scores look a bit higher. "Servile Respect" was 9.673. A really good score as it was. Now it's 9.821. "Pain Love" was 9.882, now it's 9.936. Then my eyes get wide. I see a string of 9.994s and even higher! "Gawd!" I think, "Those last two Mistresses must have given me a big bunch of 10s!!! They both may even have scored me a couple times to move my grades THAT much!! 'Housekeeping is a freaking 9.998!!" The Mistress scrolls down farther to the total at the bottom. My mouth falls open. My eyes bug out. My grade had been 8.862. Now it's 9.007 My mind races. "OMG! OMG! OMG! i'm a NINE now!!!!!!!!" I think excitedly. I almost faint and fall over in my litter box. The Mistress grins at me, grabs my shoulder so I don't fall over. Of course She also whips my tits with Her riding crop to make sure I pay attention I guess. I do snap back to focus on Her right away of course. "Finish slut. Stand. Heel. You belong on my chain now," A Special Day In The Life Ch. 08 Afternoon at the slave spa I'm walking on air as I heel the Mistress back to Her chain of girls. "I'm a 9! I'm a 9!" keeps running through my mind. My ankle chain seems to sound particularly jolly as I practically prance in my twelve inch steps. I play with my wrist cuffs behind my back just to hear the cute small clinks of that chain. I hold my head high, making my hair flow down my back swaying from side to side. The Mistress takes me to the back of the line of girls, locks my leash to the back of the collar of the girl who had been last in the chain. Mistress goes behind me and unlocks my wrist cuffs, bends down and unlocks my anklets. I wonder why. She puts them in Her shoulder bag. She looks me up and down, hefts my tits in Her hands, lifts my chin and turns my head side to side as if She's appraising an animal at a dog show or something. She seems like She came to a decision and reaches back into Her bag. She pulls out different shackles. I think they're pretty, highly polished steel, but wonder why the chains are so long. It takes Her several seconds to pull each one high out of her purse the chains are so long. A cuff is clicked closed on my right wrist. A chain that must be four feet long is snapped onto my front collar ring. Then She does the same with my left. I try to stand pretty, not quite understanding. Then She clicks a long chain on my back collar ring. i see it has an anklet at the end of what must be a five foot chain. She snaps another one like it there too. Then She bends down and clicks the anklets on me one at a time. I'm puzzled. I'm not restrained at all. The chains loop down loose. The ones to my anklets even lay on the floor a bit. Then it dawns on me. "OMG! I've seen dancer slave girls in these!" I realize with a start. These are designed just to look and sound pretty. I swallow hard. I try to review all my dance classes quickly in my mind. Hip thrusts and arm movements run through my head. The Mistress lashes me with Her crop. "Move slut! Shake it for me," She commands. Some of the other girls turn a bit to watch. I become nervous. As sensuously as I can, I raise my arms high above my head. I flex my knees. I pause a moment. Slowly I squirm like a snake. I make the squirm start at my arms... wrists, then elbows, shoulders... then my torso, my hips, then my knees. My motions flow down my body. I do it three times, then swirl my tits and hips in slow circles just waving my arms above my head like tall grass in a light breeze. My chains clink and jingle cutely as I hoped they would. It's the best I can come up with on the spot. This is only like a minute so far. I figure I'll do hip bumps next. "Stop. Not too bad," She says. I watch Her punch a 1 then a 0 on Her keypad. "You may stand." I lower my eyes and tilt my head down a bit in submission. "Yes Mistress, thank You Mistress," I murmur throatily, trying my best to sound sexy. I relax being sure to slink into a sultry pose, right hip cocked to one side, palm on that hip, left arm loose at my side. It makes me very happy to see most of the other girls smile slightly, a sparkle in their eyes. I see the Mistress punch ANOTHER 1 then 0 in Her keypad. my spirits soar! But suddenly She scowls. "I said stand! NOT grin, you stupid bitch!" She yells and slashes me twice across both my tits with Her crop, left to right first, then right to left. A girl ahead giggles softly. 9s CAN be bitches. "YES Mistress!" I yelp. "slave begs forgiveness Mistress please!" She scowls again but I'm relieved to see She does not punch anything in Her keypad. I'd shit myself if I watched Her punch any zeros. The Mistress just turns and walks back to the head of the line. She unlocks us from the wall ring and just continues down the corridor. I let out my breath that I realize i had been holding. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We're led down a couple corridors, down long winding spiral stairways. Whenever we pass a Domme, I see all the girls stand straighter, sway their hips more. I do the same plus make my chains jingle. When we pass a low slave parked at her wall ring, I try not to look too haughty. Funny. I now think of them as low slaves. The Mistress passes them by and I mentally agree that "they" do not belong on "my" chain. The Mistress stops us. I see Her park us at a wall ring and turn to walk toward me. Since I'm last on the chain this must be where She's going to drop me off. I sneak a glance around to try to figure out what I'm going to be doing. I spot a sign on the wall "Mistress Matilda's Slave Spa" with a picture of a girl in a hairdresser's chair, except she's manacled to it. The slave driver Mistress is unlocking my leash from the girl in front of me while saying, "you STINK slave! you smell like sweat and cum and rubber. Your hair's a wreck." "Come. Heel." I hear a girl in the chain giggle again and I blush head to toe embarrassed. I hope she gets whipped! But she's right I suppose. The Mistress walks me into the spa. It smells just like any woman's hair stylist salon. It stinks of hair color chemicals, hair spray, and nail polish which means I love it! There's a Mistress at a desk and I see slave girls scurrying this way and that. "Hi Matilda, " the Mistress says to the Mistress behind the desk. "Got a stinky slut here, a new 9 in fact. See if you can make it more presentable, will you?" The Mistress behind the desk, who must be Matilda, consults Her schedule on the desk top. "Sure Joan. No problem. I can do something with even that," She says nodding toward me. I blush again. The slave driver Mistress, who I now know is Joan, hands my leash to Mistress Matilda. I drop to my knees to kiss Her feet. Licking and kissing respectfully, I mutter between licks, "Thank You Mistress, thank You very much. A slave is very grateful." My leash is just long enough so I turn to my driver and do the same. Mistress Matilda tugs my leash once. I stop and kneel up as pretty as I can. Joan and Matilda kiss like just friends, which I think is sweet, and Mistress Joan turns to walk out. Turning back for a moment, Mistress Joan asks, "I'll be back for the bitch in what? Three hours?" "Better make it four," Mistress Matilda replies. "This thing needs a LOT of work." I blush again and lower my eyes, dejected. I thought I was fairly pretty. I pout. Instantly, a cane lashes down my back. "Wipe that look off your face slave," Mistress Matilda commands. "I will decide how you look and I'm going to make you sparkle. Understand?" "Yes Mistress. Thank You Mistress," I whimper meekly. "This slave begs forgiveness. girl will be good." I smile nicely, trying to show my appreciation. "Better. Stand. Come," She says tugging my leash twice. We walk through Her salon. I see girls manacled in chairs while they get manicures, pedicures, hairstyles, all sorts of wonderful work done by other girls ankle chained to the chairs. Low slaves on their knees sweep up hair clippings. She does not stop but takes me through the back door. I swallow hard. I see "The Slave Wash" sign. I've been through that thing before. I do not like it. The thing is just like an automated car wash, but for slave girls. She leads me to stand on a platform with little wheels. It's a wire mesh grid about three feet square. There are two vertical posts with clamps in four places for a girl's limbs and four other posts supporting horizontal plates. She makes me half stand, half squat between the center two posts. I must stand with my legs spread, my arms out and up, all touching the clamps on the posts. She clamps my arms and legs to the posts. There are two clamps for each of my arms, two for each leg. I'm solidly clamped in place but squatting with my arms raised and can not move. Then She removes my decorative shackles and collar. I miss them already. It's how your hair is washed that i really don't like. There are two steel plates, one in front of me and one behind. Both are about three feet wide like the platform, two feet long, with half circle openings in them that match where my neck is. She lifts my hair and slides the steel plates closed around my neck. They click, locked around my throat. Now I really can't move. The design has me standing completely open but immobilized. My head and hair is separated from whatever is to be done to me below. I whimper. I know what's coming. She rolls my platform into a long tunnel. I look down a long line of mechanized swirling brushes and spray nozzles. Something grabs the base of the platform and I lurch ahead into the tunnel. First I'm sprayed with hot water all over. I'm glad it's not too hot at least. There are even jets that squirt straight up through the platform. They're aimed perfectly for my vagina and rectum. I squeal like a pig! I jerk a few feet ahead. I know to close my eyes for what's next. Strong pulsating jets of shampoo hit my hair. It actually smells nice! Flowery! Below many squirts and waving streams of soapy water blast me. The ones to my twat and rectum as so strong I'm getting one HELL of a douche and enema at the same time!! The platform jumps a few more feet ahead. All sorts of swirling twirling brushes descend from every direction. Every part of my body is being scrubbed. It's not hard or cruel, but it surely makes you feel like an object being washed this way. I reluctantly admit to myself that they're very clever. The ones above the steel plates actually scrub my face, massage my scalp, lift my hair, pull my hair straight back. My hair is rhythmically stroked, combed and brushed. I close my eyes even tighter and grimace a bit as the ones like bottle brushes invade my cunt and a-hole. I gasp and get a mouthful of shampoo by mistake. I sputter and spit it out as best I can. The brushes are soft and not bad really as they slide in and out but is sure is a shock to be so helplessly cleaned. The brushes pull out of me, all of them whir and move away. I lurch a few feet ahead again. STRONG moving streams of water surprise me even though I knew they were coming. I gasp in shock and of course get water shot down my throat. "Damn it!" I think, "I should have known better!" This lasts like a full minute or two. I remember now that it's actually like a pretty nice massage. Above the steel plates I smell what must be conditioner spritzed into my hair. "Oh nice!" think. "I don't remember this from last time." I hear something like jet engines start to roar. I jerk a few feet ahead again. Wild warm air blasts me all over below. First from one side, then the other, then the other again repeatedly. Even the posts move up, then twist a little so the bottoms of my feet and the sides of my arms and legs are dried. Above the steel plates, it blows my hair straight back, only waving side to side a little. My hair ripples, blasted straight back from my head. My eyelids flutter despite the fact that I'm trying to keep them shut as hard as I can. The jet engine sounds slowly whine to a stop. I lurch a few feet ahead again. The platform stops with a jolt. Hesitantly, I blink open my eyes. I must be finished I guess. "What? No wax?" I joke to myself. Mistress Matilda walks up and clicks my collar around my neck below the steel plates. She unlocks and slides the plates open. My leash is clipped back to my front collar ring again. I can see now that it dangles down to a handle looped around Her left wrist. I'm surprised how very gently she flips my hair thru a scrunchie hair holder. Then She unclamps me from the posts. "Heel girl," She commands and leads me back into the salon. My hair is dry. I smell good. I'm nice and clean, thoroughly, inside and out. I actually smile and walk a bit prouder. Mistress takes me to one chair that is empty. Its girl bow low to the floor, palms flat on the floor on either side of her head. "How may this slave serve Mistress?" she asks nicely. I see she has a two inch wide polished steel collar and an anklet with about six feet of chain. she's probably a 7 girl. She's wearing a pretty hot pink dress like a tank top that falls to mid thigh. It's really adorable on her even if it is a common slave work outfit. It's just thin cotton and hugs every curve of her body. Her nipples strain against the tight material. As Mistress Matilda shackles me into the chair She orders the girl, "Trim this slave's dead ends. Do not shorten it more than two inches. No hair color. If you see any gray I'll whip her, then you can touch it up. Manicure to the proscribed half inch length nails. Pedicure too. Golden peach nail polish." She pauses a moment while She locks tiny steel straps over every single one of my fingers and thumbs on the armrest of the chair. " Hmmm... " She continues, "lavender mauve eyeshadow blended to pale peach shimmer at the outsides. Lengthen and darken her lashes. Black eyeliner tapered out to edges. Hmmm... find a high gloss lip color to match. Do it wrong and I'll use the electrocution dildos on you again all night. Clear slave?" The girl crawls to Mistress Matilda and kisses Her feet. "Yes Mistress. Lovely choices Mistress. Thank You Mistress. This slave will start immediately Mistress and be very careful Mistress," she coos sweetly but I notice her brow is a bit sweaty. She must fear those dildos quite a lot. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three hours later the slave girl holds a mirror up so I can see myself. "Wow!" I think, "Now I really look like a 9!" I make kissey faces in the mirror with my golden lips that look as shiny as a mirror. I bat my long silky eyelashes. My eyes look like Cleopatra with eyeliner upswept a bit and far out to the sides. She madeup my nipples, areolae, and snatch too! Everything is stunning unique combinations of cream, tan, beige, taupe, or gold. I'm thrilled! I've learned her slave name is sweetslit while she worked and I told her i'm hotbox. She was Julie long ago but after a few years even we slaves rarely even speak those names. "Thank you sweetie. You do fabulous work!" I sincerely exclaim. "Awww! you're welcome hottie," she gushes, embarrassed by my compliment. We both see Mistress Matilda approaching. sweetslit kneels. I just sit since I can't move a millimeter in the tall collar over my regular collar and the thirty-some steel straps that hold me totally rigid in the chair. Mistress unlocks my tall collar, backs away a step, stands with Her hands on Her hips to examine me. She looks me over carefully for almost a minute. "Not bad. Not bad at all," She states. I watch her push 1 then 0 on her hand-held device a couple times, probably grading sweetslit, maybe me too but I can't imagine for what. It's always Their call in every way. A slave is totally helpless and her life is controlled by this too as well as the unending bondage and discipline at all times. Mistress Matilda pets sweetslit's head. "Good girl," She says smiling. She pulls a small chocolate out of Her purse and pops it into sweetie's mouth. Sweetslit swirls in around in her mouth, grinning at the same time, bows low. "Thank You Mistress!" sweetie chirps wile still sucking her treat. "A slave is happy if You are pleased." She crawls forward to kiss Mistress' feet. Mistress Matilda steps to the chair, grabs my leash, slips the handle around Her wrist. Then She starts to unstrap me. When I'm free, She tugs my leash twice. "Up. Heel," She commands softly. I'm relieved that it seems She really does like the way I look. She leads me to the front of the salon. She unlocks a glass door. I see that it's like a store display, glass front facing the corridor outside as well as the glass inside. She tugs me into it and locks my leash to a wall ring on the right about even with my shoulders. She steps out and locks the door. Mistress Matilda goes back to Her desk and fiddles with controls on Her computer. Soft pulsing music start to play. I guess it's in my glass cage and the store too probably. She picks up Her hand-held device and speaks into it, "hotbox, dance until your chain driver comes back for you. You will be my spa display until then." I'm honored! She's using me as a display for her spa! I start to sway to the music. I lift my arms and run my fingers through my hair so it cascades around my shoulders as I move. It's so silky and shiny now! I smile. I think to myself, "She must really like how i look to use me this way. I can hardly wait till the other girls see me now. I'll show them what a 9 can be!" As I bump and grind I also daydream some really cute Mistress might see me too. I smile dreamily as I dance. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 09 Why'd They fix my makeup and hair now and why like this? I'm having a good time dancing. I keep hoping another of the Dommes that occasionally walk by will like me and want me. I make sure to slide my hands down my body, fondle my tits, roll my hips around when a cute Mistress stops to watch me. The ones that look cruel and strict in their tight leathers get me so hot I can hardly stand it. I want one of Them to take me. I NEED that. That's what us slaves really want. To be claimed by a Mistress for Her own personal bitch. I want to be owned, not just public property. Almost all the collars and restraints in the castle are unlocked by a common key. That means any Domme or Guard can easily unlock any restraint or door. All collars and shackles simply click closed and lock by themselves. The key that opens these looks like a common handcuff key but even smaller. Even the heavy cast iron Punishment restraints open with that. Every Mistress has one in Her purse or on a necklace. All restraints are so well made that even the heaviest can be unlocked with that very small key. Excellent craftswomanship I hear, very precise machine work. So every girl wears stuff with a little keyhole shaped like a O= BUT... When a Mistress claims a slave for personal use, then the girl gets a collar and restraints that only that Mistress can unlock. That girl's manacles and stuff have a little slot for a high security key. The key is just like a normal house key but tiny. They look something like a little saw blade on one side. So the key slot is shaped like a === I get very jealous when I see a girl's collar like that. It means she is owned, probably the love slave of one Mistress. That makes me just plain envious. As I bump and grind, I check my reflection in the glass. I love Clitoris Alliance slave makeup. The Alliance is so huge that They secretly own companies like L'Oréal, Estee Lauder, Avon, and most companies that make cosmetics. The products they sell to the public fade and wear off so women must buy more of course. But the makeup They use on us slaves is permanent. It will never smudge or smear or fade. I'll look like a painted whore for years unless special solvent creams are used. I like this. I lick my slick shiny lips seductively with no worries it will come off, ever. I see "my" chain of slaves come around the corner led by "my" slave driver Mistress. I'm proud and happy and think of them as "mine" now. Mistress Joan looks particularly wicked, as if She dressed up. She wears the tight black skirt, studded motorcycle jacket, corset and stiletto boots of a guard of course, but She added chrome chains looped hanging from the epaulets of Her jacket. There are also medals pinned proudly on Her jacket chest. I know why some are awarded. The bright purple and blood red one is for cruelty above and beyond. The silver and black one is for restraint excellence. She has maybe a dozen others. She must be a very experienced Domme. The girls in Her chain seem to be dressy too. They all wear fantastic rubber outfits that match their makeup and hair. Juanita looks so hot in a breast-teaser, a skin tight body suit, open crotch of course. The openings for her tits make them pop out even more than usual. Samantha is in a buckled harness that cinches her every which way and does a beautiful job of accenting her figure. I notice that every girl has her pretty wrist cuffs chained to her collar with only about eight inches of chains. They all look like begging dogs with their hands hanging limp near their faces. I can't help but notice that every girl's crotch is exposed and she's topless no matter what she wears. I guess this must be like today's uniform for 9s. I must be next. Mistress Joan chats with Mistress Matilda very friendly-like for a couple minutes. I can't hear anthing except the dance music in my display case though. I keep dancing not having been commanded to do anything else. I watch my chain sisters parked at their wall ring. Somehow they all look absolutely gorgeous and totally drip sexuality just the way they stand and move around, even with their arms chained up as they are. I see Mistress Joan kiss Mistress Matilda and walk toward my display cage. My chain's slave driver unlocks the door, reaches in to unlock my leash from the wall ring. "Stop dancing slut. Come. Heel," She says as she tugs my leash twice. In seconds, I'm at the back of Her chain of slave girls, my collar chained to the back of Sarah's. We hurry to follow our driver Mistress wherever She's taking us. I guess I'm to be prepared next. It doesn't take long. I was right. I'm removed from the chain and dropped off to be prepared by a small crew of slave girls and a wardrobe Mistress. I love these wardrobe rooms. They're like an almost endless fetish fashion and shoe store. There's always all sorts of stuff from the most up-to-date high-tech rubber to elegant outfits hundreds of years old. I know I'm going be dressed as someone somewhere wants me. I just hope it's not too painful. I'm pleased but surprised it's not painful at all. The wardrobe Mistress supervises as the girls efficiently take off my cuffs, dress me in light beige latex hosiery and shoulder length gloves. Then I'm cinched into a tight darker taupe rubber corset. Next taupe rubber ballet booties that match the corset are laced on my feet. I comply meekly to whatever is done to me even if I have no idea what's going on. The Mistress puts my cuffs back on me, but differently. Now like the other girls in my chain, my wrist cuffs have only eight inches of chain each. My ankles cuffs have a very generous eighteen inches or so. Except that I look like a begging dog, I'm hardly retrained at all. I'm baffled but happy. My ankle chain will jingle on the floor when I walk and I think that's sexy. We've all practiced endless hours under the whips of Trainers so we had better be sexy in chains or else! A dim awareness grows in my consciousness. Why these colors? Sure it all looks nice but have I seen this color combination somewhere before? A cute but useless skirt is buckled around my waist. It's taupe too. It looks like a tutu a ballerina might wear, stiff and sticks straight out. But its's not crinoline. It's PVC or something shiny like that. I think it goes really well with my makeup and nail polish which are mainly tans and golds. I wonder why but I know it doesn't matter what a slave thinks. I'm just happy it's nicely color coordinated. I'm led back to my driver Mistress still wondering why I'm dressed this way. I strut proudly, head high, making my hair wave down my back. She looks us all over, cracking Her whip occasionally at one or another of us commanding, "Sexier! Be sultry! Be seductive! You are NINES. Stand better than that bitch!" I hear Her whip crack and cringe but She wasn't aiming at me. Whew! Of course we all try desperately to look sensuous. I'm starting to understand that being a 9 means. I'm held to a higher standard now. My brow gets a bit sweaty as I smile as brightly as I can, batting my long silky eyelashes whenever She glances at me, while gently rolling my hips around, always animated, never quite standing still. Much to my relief, the Mistress seems satisfied and leads us down the corridor. As we're led through the corridors we start to climb stairs. I actually see sunlight! OMG! I blink. It looks unnatural until I remember that flickering torches in the dungeons are what most people would think odd. Shafts of warm colorful sunlight pierce the dusty gloom to pool on the floor. I look up to see the stained glass windows. I love them. It's rare, but I've been up here a few times before. We are in the main castle. The stained glass windows are beautiful. They show famous Mistresses and even slaves of the Clitoris Alliance over the last eight thousand years. I am awed to see the one of Mistress Sabina of Rome standing on the backs of two slave girls. THE founder of the alliance, Rhodopis, was a slave in a village before ANY civilization began. Clitoris Alliance history proudly states that it was her, a mere harem girl, who caused all trade and civilization to begin. The stained glass window of her makes her look like a saint, but topless in sheer silk and chains. Thousands of years ago They called Themselves "The Daughters of Rhodopis." I now have an idea what's going on. This must be a feast day. In the Clitoris Alliance there are many festivals on important days. There's a big fancy dinner for the Dommes in "The Great Hall." Even us slaves get leftovers to eat! Yummy! The founding of the very first training and command center in caves in Thebes is celebrated July 4. Pagan holidays like Roodmas May 3 and Saturnalia December 17 are big days. Of course on this island Commandant Mistress Jane's birthday, September 10, is a biggie. So I've served many many times before. Every rank of girl 5 and above has a very specific role to play. As we're led down a service hallway behind the kitchens and then into them, I watch the other girls at work. I've done all their jobs before myself. There's a line of girls doing hard menial chores. They must be class 5 girls. They're all kneeling on the smooth polished stone floor, their ankles locked into stocks bolted to the floor. They have no choice but stay kneeling in exactly one place. Still, they wear the heavy half inch thick cast iron manacles and collar, all three inches wide, of a low slave. One grade 5 girl is scrubbing the burnt mess from the inside of a kettle, her manacle chain clanking as she scrubs. For her sake, I hope she don't dent or scratch that kettle. "Of course why would they have a dishwashing machine in this castle?" I think. "They have us slaves." The Mistresses just design sinks and counters in the floor. Very simple, for the Mistresses. Another girl is peeling potatoes, carrots, and other veggies. One is stirring very hard and slow with both hands to make dough. That's hard work. There are no electric appliances, only slaves. I remember my first day as a 5 in the kitchen like it was yesterday. I had to shell and devein shrimp, pick crab meat for hors d'oeuvres. I was told that if one single tiny bit of shell found it's way into a Mistress's mouth, i would be hung upside-down by my toes and thumbs while live crabs were shoved in my pussy. I was careful. I study one girl 5 sympathetically. The black iron chastity belt she wears still look terribly heavy. I know. I remember how the big front plate chaffed the creases at my thighs really badly. I unconsciously straighten my back remembering how the rough curved bar felt in my asscrack. Since she's working the kitchen, she also has an iron head cage gag called a brank locked around her head. Mistresses make it impossible to steal food or be too chatty while a low slave works. Drool dribbles down her chin. An inch thick iron bar between her teeth will not let her close her mouth. That hurts a lot I know. The back of the brank is padlocked directly onto her rear collar ring. That makes her tall collar and brank one solid unit. The poor dear can not move her head much at all. As she is, she can not do much of anything but look straight ahead at her work. There are more girl that i guess are 6s judging by their three inch wide stainless steel cuffs. I guess they're 6s anyway. They could be higher grades being punished. That happens too. They're shackled so they can only crawl. Twenty inch chains from their ankle shackles to the sides of their chastity belts let them move a bit. I guess those are about twelve inch chains from their front collar rings to their wrist cuffs too. If they did kneel up, they'd look a bit like begging dogs. That seems to be popular with the Mistresses They are not chained in one place but I know they don't kneel up and why. Each girl has a tray standing up on little legs on her back. Each leg is part of the sides of her waist cincher. The tray is level when she crawls, if she's careful. These slaves crawl from one work station to the next carrying the kettles, bowls, dirty dishes, food to be prepared, and platters of roasted meats. They're living food carts. They wear branks too but at least they're lighter steel. Most of the other kitchen staff, like cooks, must be grade 7 girls. Their manacles and shackles are the sort I expect, two inch wide cuffs and collar of shiny polished stainless steel. They're granted a whole foot of chain between their cuffs. Also, they're only ankle chained to where they work and can stand and move maybe a whole three feet or so around their work. Even their branks are not so heavy. The bar between their teeth is only about a half inch thick. They're cooking everything under the sun all at once. The Kitchen Mistress all in a white latex chef uniform stands over them with a whip, making sure everything is perfect, taste testing, lashing a girl occasionally. "Sprinkle more parsley on that slave!" She yells. "Present that better slave! It must look like a dish from the finest restaurant anywhere!" Scurrying around must be the class 8 girls. Just yesterday that would have been me I realize. They do look pretty. I know most of them. Tonight they get to take food and drinks out to the Mistresses. Each girl has her wrists cuffed behind her back, locked to the back ring of her chastity belt. What makes them so pretty is that they are permitted clothes, of a sort. They get a lovely rubber corset, rubber hosiery, rubber shoulder length gloves, and the ever-popular ballet booties. They get the pretty ankle shackles too, with an entire eighteen inches of nice shiny chain. It is hard to see the cool corset though. There's a serving tray strapped tight around their waist. Other than that strap, the tray is supported by two cute shiny chains from the front corners of the tray to their nipple rings. They do look so glamourous with their hair up as it is. That's so they can serve without hair getting in the way, but it still looks nice. Because of the tray hanging from their nipples and the ballet boots, they walk leaned over backwards. We, I mean they, do look cute that way. Reminiscing about slave grades really takes me back. I remember being a 1. Whenever we were not in class or scrubbing our dungeon we were kept shackled and collared to a wall, ONE link of chain, spread eagle, standing, you're considered just about worthless. Gagged and plugged in both holes all night. All of us grade 1's in one dungeon like a dank cold warehouse. Some girls would cry a lot. They were whipped the most. We NEVER got out of that dungeon. To finally get to be a 2 was a big deal. We were chained and gagged the exact same way but at least laying on the floor. Oh what a relief! By then you must have learned not to cry, at least keep your mouth shut and show some respect or maybe plain terror is acceptable. Becoming a 3 made you really feel good because then your limbs were no longer shackled to the wall or floor. Only your collar was padlocked to the floor and that makes sleeping so much nicer even if you still could not lift your head. But you could move your arms and legs at least. We must have learned to thank Mistresses for our discipline to earn this When you get to grade 4 you got two feet of collar chain and feel like a queen. You can turn over or sleep on your side and everything! To earn this we must have mastered certain rituals and phrases of submission. At grade 5 you get a whole three feet and maybe, maybe, if you've been good, your own litter pan! When you're a 5 you finally get to serve and be used instead of just constant training. Finally you are taken out of the dungeon for the first time. It's surprising how easy it is to be promoted from 4 to 5. All you have to do is beg to serve and be pleasing, but They can tell if you really mean it. We were amazed how big the castle is when we were taken out on a chain of our slave sisters to work. After you earn 6 you finally get out of the punishment collar and shackles of thick cast iron. Stainless steel feels positively silky, like air against your skin by comparison even if everything still is three inches wide on your wrists and ankles, three inches tall under your chin. By now you must have learned to pose seductively in your bondage. You must become aroused by the jingle of chain, the sound of a lock clicking closed. They can tell if you are sincere. By grade 7 you're finally getting up in the world. your collar and cuffs are only two inches wide. It makes you proud. Some Dommes must like your servitude to be getting good grades and you know it. You really try to be seductive. You want to be desirable. It can not be faked. I do not know how They can tell but They are invariably correct. A grade 8 slave has fallen deeply in love with being dominated. We can no longer help ourselves. Bondage is a hug that never ends for 8's. Manacles are security and safety. Your collar is your identity. Your restraints might be beautiful jewelry now. Your cell is home. Guards are awesome, Mistresses are Goddess, other slaves are BFF and you love it all. It's sad that all grade 1 through 4 girls must be shackled in their dungeons right now. I bet the Mistresses watching them are pissed too since those Mistresses will miss the feast. I shiver a bit remembering how cruel They are when They miss a feast day. Still just looking around the kitchen while the Mistresses chat, I smile watching Juanita, an 8 girl, pull a little trick i used to do too. When the Mistress is not watching, she winks at a 7 girl chained to the counter decorating a cake. Juanita backs up to the pastry slave and slides her fingers, with her hands cuffed behind her, under the pastry slave's chastity belt, all while still carefully watching for the Mistress. Juanita gives the pastry slave a nice finger job despite the belt. Then the pastry slave, who is gagged and can not eat anything herself, gives Juanita a little glop of the cake icing on the end of her finger, which Juanita licks off gratefully. Juanita blows her a kiss before the Mistress notices a thing. Cute. Girls just wanna have fun. While I've been watching the girls work, our slave driver is having a grand old time with the Kitchen Mistress. They both taste soups, a bit of roast pork, a little of this and that, sample a wine or two or three, chat and laugh like great friends. Mistress Joan wraps Her arms around the Kitchen Mistress and gives her a friendly kiss, which slowly turns into a passionate embrace. Lots of tongue too I notice. They fondle each other quite nicely, then pull apart to go about Their business like nothing happened. "Mistress Joan seems to have a lot of buddies," I conclude silently to myself. I think I love Her. She leads us out of the kitchen into "The Great Hall." We all pause a moment in hushed silence. Even we slaves don't let our chains jangle or clink. It never fails to awe me. It's the grandest place I've ever seen. Colorful sunlight streams in through stained glass windows like a cathedral. The shafts of light look almost alive with the silent swirls of dust dancing in them. You have to crane your neck to see the high vaulted ceiling. Graceful arches of dark highly shined wood frame the lovely complex concave curves of the stucco far above. Intricately carved wood, as ebony as a raven's wing, as ancient as an Etruscan tomb, sets the somber mood. The door frame near my shoulder, the pillar that extends to the ceilin, glistens almost as if wet they shine so. I admire the fantastic carvings, women in bondage in a daisy chain of oral sex, intertwined and wrapped around each other adorn the woodwork as far as I can see up into the gloom above. I know why everything is so shiny. Teams of class 6 girls dust and clean and oil the wood almost daily. I've done my 16 hour shift a couple times. To get the woodwork high up, a girl is clamped onto poles and lifted by other slaves. I shudder rememberin where the end of one of the pole goes. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 10 Almost dinnertime... but not yet I kneel pretty. Head up high and proud. Smiling and batting my eyelashes at any Mistress who looks at me. Shoulders back even though my wrists are shackled close to my collar. Back straight, Tits out. A coy "Mona Lisa" half-smile on my face when I don't know if any Mistress is watching or not. I scratch my nose and hope a Mistress didn't see my slip-up. I wait patiently. A slave has to be patient. Sometimes we're chained for days in a cell praying someone remembers to feed us. I think of a million things and nothing. That's what you do besides try to look pretty so you avoid the whip. Other class 9 girls all kneel chained to table legs like me. I think they all look fabulous and hope I look as good. I watch the preparations continue but there's not much more to do now till the Dommes chose to arrive. I see a class 8 girl burdened with like nine or ten bottles of wine. Her serving tray strapped around her waist and held up by chains to nipple rings sags down low, pulling her boobs far down. She has to lean back ever farther than usual to keep from spilling her tray while still walking in ballet boots and her eighteen inch ankle chain. I'm sure she's sweating bullets praying she doesn't drop a bottle. She'd be tortured for that for sure. She's finishing stocking one of the two bars in The Great Hall. Along the two side walls are fully stocked mahogany bars. At each one a grade 7 girl is ankle chained to be the bartender. "Grade 6 girls could carry more on their backs," I think but I know they're not allowed in The Great Hall unleashed. I know that no Mistress would want the bother of leading a 6 girl around. Back before I was enslaved I'd seen photos of regular castles, not Clitoris Alliance castles. Some of them have suits of armor standing up on display in their main hall. We've got something like that. Between the pillars along the walls all around the room are what look like suits of armor or metal statues. They're not. Inside each one is a low slave, locked into the form fitting highly polished steel. One looks rather like the hood ornament of a Rolls Royce, the famous "Spirit of Ecstacy," sometimes also called "The Flying Lady." That steel sculpture has the girl standing leaning way forward, her arms held out straight back, her tits stick straight out and high in front. Another chrome steel sculpture has a girl inside with her body bent over backwards in an arch, tummy up, just her fingertips and toes on the floor, her pussy thrust high up in the air. There are others but those are the ones I've been in. They all look beautiful from the outside. They all completely enclose a girl except some featured body part. Luckily for us slaves, there are hidden air holes in aesthetically correct places. The girl who's locked in the "Flying Lady" for example, just her nipples and areolae are not covered. You would have to look hard to find her air holes hidden oddly behind her stylized flowing hair. The girl bowed like an arch, her twat is exposed. I've been in that a few times when i was grade 5. I guess They have to do something with all the grade 5 slaves. It's really not bad at all. You're completely supported even if you can't move a single millimeter. Rather comfy actually, as a slave judges things. Besides, the Dommes do come over to toy with you. Those are popular spots for Them to stand around chatting, sipping Their drinks before dinner starts. When you're in the arch one you're frequently used for a bench to sit on and a Domme might idly doodle around fingering you for a while. Nice! Just pray that if you're the arch, a Mistress doesn't use your twat for an ashtray!! They can not hear you scream through the steel and the long convoluted air passages, not that They would really care anyway. Juanita, Samantha, Sarah, and the other grade 8 girls are being herded to different spots around the hall by a Mistress who is the Maîtresse d' of the feast event, all in leather with a quirt in Her hand. She's placing girls near the entrance, near the bars, near the steel sculptures. I become nervous. The event must be about to start. Somewhere in the distance, from a couple different directions, several antique clocks all chime seven o'clock. Very pretty. They all chime in unison. That's good. Otherwise the slave girl who winds and sets them would be punished for sure. That's a job a 6 girl might get to do. My tummy fills with butterflies. I get to serve as a 9 for the first time. "I must be perfect," I think. I hold my back perfectly straight, I smile pleasantly, spread my knees a bit more, and wait, and wait, we all wait. They're never on time. They're women. They're dominant women. They secretly control the world. They keep slaves. They do exactly whatever They please and we had better make it work perfectly for Them. Three Guards come in first. They're laughing loud and slapping each other on the back, obviously this is a big treat for Them. They head straight for a bar. Samantha greets them quite nicely I think. "Welcome Mistresses! This slave begs if You require drinks please." Another serving tray girl walks toward them with Swedish meatballs and little spring rolls on her tray, various dipping sauces for the rolls. "BASS ALE!" One Guard shouts with a grin and slaps Sammi's ass. "DOUBLE SHOT OF FOUR ROSES, UP!" another shouts. "I WANT A SCREAMING ORGASM!" the third Guard shouts. They all laugh uproariously, punching each other's arms. I try to hide a smile. Guards are so cute.... except for the cattle prods. Samantha scurries to the bar. she repeats the order to the ankle chained bartender even though the shouts must have been heard down in the dungeons they were so loud. The bartender places a huge frosty silver stein, a big shot glass, and the murky colored cocktail on Sam's tray. The Guards have wandered over to the table to find Their name place cards. They're below the salt of course but they still have a heavily madeup 9 girl to wait on them. I don't know the girl but she cheerfully greets Them and licks Their stiletto boots correctly. I approve. Sam minces over to Them with Their drinks on her tray, her ankle chain jingling on the polished marble floor. Their waitress 9 girl stands to take the drinks off the tray for Them. She must bend over since her wrists are cuffed so close to her collar. She sensuously sways her hips, jiggles her boobs as she serves, her long ankle chain makes small metallic sounds as it slides along the floor following her. One Guard reaches between the waitress's legs and slides Her finger along the slave's slit. "Careful girl! Don't spill it," She roars hilariously. They all think that's the funniest thing in the world. the girl wiggles her rump more and smiles softly, bent way over to place the drinks. "She's good," I think. My eyes dart to the entrance arch. A Domme is arriving. She's SO elegant i almost cream right there on the floor. She wears the most glamorous cocktail dress I've ever seen, but in purple latex and it shines like a mirror. Then more arrive, alone or in pairs. Some of the couples hold hands which I think is lovely. Each Mistress is greeted by a server girl with her tray, maybe another server with hors d'oeuvres. I hear a lot of cheerful welcomes and begging to fetch drinks from the girls. Only once do I see the Maîtresse d' lash at a servers butt. The girl had failed to see a Mistress arriving so she deserved it. Most of the Mistresses look for Their places while servers fetch drinks from the bartenders. No Mistress would even dream of standing in line at a bar. That's what we slaves are for. No Mistress would consider going through the bother of even reaching for Her drink on a server's tray. That's what we 9 girls are for. Most of the time, we get the drink and kneel, offering it up to the Domme with our hands as high as our chains allow. We must try to place the drink directly in Her hand or exactly where She's going to want it before She even tells us. We have to just learn to anticipate what a Mistress wants. You DO learn that quickly. It's life or death to be perfectly servile or thrown over the castle wall, or be bound hand and foot to be fed alive to rats, or locked in an internally spiked iron maiden and forgotten forever, or any one of a gazillion ways They have to tell you you're not quite what They demand. You DO learn. I keep my eyes on the entrance. Maybe I'll be punished for cheating by reading the cards. Maybe They wanted me to know who I'm supposed to serve. I don't know. But I can hardly wait to see Mistress Carolyn and Mistress Nancy again. They almost killed me, but They didn't. They must have found me appealing. They must have rated me very high too. They must like me. I find myself getting wet just wanting to see Them, hoping They like me, praying They'll use me. It's a slave's fondest desire to be judged as pleasing. I know that seems weird, but it's what I am, how I feel. I keep my eyes glued on the entrance arch, waiting, watching intently. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 11 The sermon in The Great Hall "I see Them! I see Them" I think, bubbling over with joy. If I had a tail, it would be wagging. Since I'm a slave girl, I arch my back to stick my tits out as far as I can, spread my knees wider. I'm jealous that server girls greet Mistress Carolyn and Mistress Nancy and I can't, but of course that's the way it's set up. I have my anklets chained together by eighteen inches of chain and a ten foot chain locked to the leg of a table that probably weighs eighty tons. I could not run to Them myself if I wanted to, and I do want to run to Them. I wait instead. "Settle down slave girl," I think to myself, "Stay calm. I can't drool all over Them. That won't do. I must be perfect," I remind myself with determination. They are so beautiful. I think I love Them. I certainly hope They want to claim me. I'd love to be Their bitch. I can't take my eyes off Them as They saunter into The Great Hall arm in arm. Mistress Carolyn is in a dreamy blood red leather ensemble. She must like red. I can plainly see it's really a corset, skin-tight chaps, a studded thong buckled over that, a halter top above the corset, shoulder length opera gloves, a bolero jacket over all of that, stiletto boots,. many separate items of wicked dark red leather with many buckles and laces and chromed spiked studs so it covers Her from Her neck to Her toes. I'm freaking dripping on the floor. My bosom rises and falls. My nostrils flare. That is THE wickedest set of leathers I've ever seen. I want to worship Her. I want to beg to kiss Her whip, which hangs handily from Her belt slung low on Her hips and matches Her outfit purrfectly. I bet it tastes Devine! Mistress Nancy is so feminine, so pretty, so gorgeous I yearn to beg to lick every inch of Her body. She's wearing the most lovely skirt, blouse, and jacket. Very simple. Very elegant. The skirt and jacket fit Her wonderfully and are a medium taupe rubber. Her blouse is amazing with a frilly open collar in light beige latex. Her slick shiny hosiery matches the blouse. Her gorgeous Oxford shoes with five inch heels match Her skirt, jacket, and purse. I admire Her sense of style. I'm very proud that it must have been Her that chose my outfit that matches Hers. I get a bit lightheaded imagining what that might mean. I'm nervous. I'm worried if I'm good enough. My eyes never leave Them for a second as Elisha begs to fetch Their drinks. That I see Mistress Carolyn eat a spring roll with sweet duck sauce and that is THE most important thing in my universe at the moment. I wish i could have dipped it in the sauce for Her. Elisha is scurrying to the bar. They must have ordered drinks. They're walking this way! Towards me and Their place cards!! I hope I don't faint. "Welcome Mistresses!" I coo sweetly. I bow low and kiss Mistress Carolyn's boots. With a jingle of my chains I turn to Mistress Nancy and slowly, lingeringly lick Her shoes. I'm totally fucking wet. I can't help saying,"May this slave beg to say That You look gorgeous Mistresses?" That's not a usual thing to say but I must say it. Mistress Nancy reaches down and ruffles my hair. "That's my good girl" She says. "O H M Y G A W D!!!!!!" I think, "She said 'MY' good girl!" My heart skips a beat. Elisha minces up to us with her ankle chain jangling. she stands there very pretty with two drinks on the tray hanging from her nipple rings. As sensuously as i can, I slither to my feet. My long chain jingles sliding across the polished marble floor as I reach for the brandy. The chain between my anklets tinkles merrily as it bounces across the floor. I just know, don't ask me how, that brandy is for Mistress Carolyn. I bend over at the waist and place it on the table directly between Her waiting fingers. I straighten and turn back to Elisha's tray. "The white wine just must be for Mistress Nancy," I think. Very strangely I feel I must kiss the wine glass. I take it in my hands with my short little bit of chain to my collar, and passionately kiss the side of the glass, repeatedly, passionately, like I'm seducing a lover. I just can't stop. I don't know what I'm doing or why. Mistress Nancy actually takes the glass from my hands. I'm mortified that I failed to serve Her properly. She should never have to reach! "Awwww! Isn't she sweet Carol? I told you she's something special," She says to Mistress Carolyn with a smile. "Eh, I told you Nanc, I will not take less than a 9.5. This animal is barely a 9.0," Mistress Carolyn states in a matter-of-fact disinterested way. My heart sinks. "They've actually discussed ME???" I think in amazement. I kneel quietly, settling back on my heels, just a waitress slave waiting for the next command. I'm nothing, not good enough. I try not to cry. I can't cry. It's forbidden. That means bad torture or maybe death. Just then Mistress Jane walks into The Great Hall. All the Dommes and Guards stand. They applaud. Some of the Guards wolf-whistle and cheer. Mistress Jane strolls confidently to the head of the table. She is magnificent in a black latex gown, long flowing train, Her cloak swirls dramatically around Her legs. She carries Her usual long elegant cigarette holder. She has Her very own leashed serving girl with an ashtray at Her side. With a regal flourish of Her cloak, She sits. All The other Mistresses sit too. Slaves, including me, all try to look more servile. "Let the festivities begin," Mistress Jane commands in a clear voice. She snaps Her fingers and a serving girl runs in her eighteen inch steps to bring Her Scotch and soda. Mistress Jane has two grade 9 waitresses to offer that drink to Her. At the arched entrance, The High Priestess leads Her procession into The Great Hall. She is resplendent in flowing robes of earth-color satins. Slave girls precede Her, hands shackled behind their backs, censers of burning incense swaying side to side hanging from their nipple rings. Another Priestess follows, holding a golden standard mounted on a golden shaft high for all to see. It looks very much like an open vagina. The clit is enormous. "Praise be to the Mother Goddess," The High Priestess intones solemnly. Everyone bows her head and mutters reverently, "Praise be to the Mother Goddess." Even gagged slaves mumble it as best they can. She opens an ancient book, kisses it, and looks around. "Today we celebrate the Feast Day of Priscilla's Revenge," She begins. I would have slapped my forehead if my wrists weren't chained so close to my collar. "Duh! Of course," I think, "how silly of me to not remember what day it is." The High Priestess clears Her throat, begins to read from Her scripture.... "April 15, 1692; Swampscott Massachusetts 'Thee stand before me, wicked harlot, accused of vile witchery. How plead ye?' demands Deacon Matthew Wallace. 'Nay Reverend,' the accused woman replies, 'Twice or thrice I hath lain with my love, Priscilla Smythe, nothing more. I be no witch.' 'Constance Williams, this day I decree thee a foul servant of evil,' the Deacon bellows in a voice quavering with threat, pointing his long bony finger at her, 'Ye shall be tested this day!'" The High Priestess pauses, looks up to explain the text. "The only true love there is, the glorious love between women, was thought to be certain evidence of witchcraft in that century," She pauses to let that incredibly sad, nonsensical truth sink in. She continues, "Women accused of being witches were tested for their 'purity' by these barbarians. A common test was to bind her and throw her into deep water. If she floated, she was guilty. If she sank, she was innocent. I swear by the Mother Goddess, this is true!" She states emphatically. "But Constance was of the Alliance. She was quite intelligent. She knew she was going to be accused and prepared for it. She and Priscilla sewed lead into the voluminous skirts and undergarments women wore in that era. Constance found smooth oblong river stones and inserted them into herself," the High Priestess states proudly, obviously pleased Constance was so brilliant. "The men of the parish under the direction of the dastardly Deacon tied her right thumb to her left big toe tightly with a leather thong. They then tied her left thumb to her right big toe the same way. They carried her to the harbor dock and four men swung her back and forth, then threw her into the water." The High Priestess pauses to let the scene become more vivid in the minds of the assembly. A woman would be totally helpless that way. Unable in any way to swim or save herself, only able to thrash about in the water hopelessly. "Constance sank of course," the High Priestess says and returns to reading the scripture. "Priscilla implores the Deacon, mightily distressed, 'What wilt thou say? Wilt thou then antedate some new-made condemnation? Or say that now we are not just those persons which we were?' 'Nay wench, hasten me not. She may yet rise. The sands of this glass still run,' the Deacon declares with snide smugness. 'Whilst thus to ballast justice,' Priscilla pleads, 'some fitter act must be sought!' Even the men of the parish turn and mutter amongst themselves at her words." The High Priestess closes Her book, looks around the room, explains again. "The Deacon had failed. Even his men believed Constance was innocent by the insane test of 'purity' they used. She was pulled out of the water, gasping and sputtering, but thankfully alive," She says and bows Her head. "Praise be to the Mother Goddess," She intones solemnly. Everyone bows her head and reverently chants, "Praise be to the Mother Goddess." She continues, "What is not in the record of that trial is what happened afterwards. We refer to Priscilla's later diary for that. Constance left to meet a ship to bring her to this very island. She was the third Commandant here. Priscilla delayed leaving for a while. Secretly studying Deacon Wallace's habits, she found that the Deacon used his outhouse every morning just before sunrise. Priscilla was waiting one morning. After the Deacon went inside and boards creaked when he sat down, Priscilla silently opened the lid of the pit that is below all outhouses. She emptied her wicker basket into the pit. That basket contained forty-seven half-starved, very hungry, highly poisonous spiders. The late night air was chilly. The only warmth those spiders would find was that portion of the Deacon dangling down into the pit. To those spiders the Deacon must have seemed like a neon sign advertising a McDonalds. Within seconds, dozens of spiders had latched onto his rump, testicles, and penis." The High Priestess smiles wryly. "Priscilla wrote in her diary...." 'Scream but till sleep, death's justice unloosed. Your own end to justify for having purposed change and falsehood, you can have no way but falsehood to be true. Vain lunatic, against these 'scapes I could conquer, if I willed; which I do, for by morrow light I may think so too.'" The High Priestess clears Her throat, looks up. "There is much more, but in more modern English, basically Priscilla taunted the Deacon while he screamed in horrific pain until sunrise when he died of extreme poisoning to his bloated, inflamed, discolored genitals, his trousers still around his ankles." "Praise be to the Mother Goddess," The High Priestess intones solemnly. Everyone bows her head, Domme and slave alike, and chants reverently, "Praise be to the Mother Goddess." The High Priestess then bows to Mistress Jane, turns and leads Her procession out of The Great Hall. The clatter of drink glasses and jovial chatter resumes. From below the salt, much "yahoo-ing" and other exclamations of bawdy glee are heard. Above the salt, genteel and dignified discussions begin afresh. However, I just kneel. my hands dangle limply below my chin. I know i'm supposed to look like a begging bitch, and I do. I keep my back straight, my tits out and high. I smile pleasantly. I make sure my thighs are spread wide enough so any Mistress can do anything to me She might like. I keep my eyes on Mistress Nancy and Mistress Carolyn. Even a slave thinks. I believe Mistress Nancy wants me as Her pet or toy or maid or something. The important thing is that She wants me. I'm fairly sure of this, as sure as a mere slave can be about anything that is. This means I'm thrilled, honored, excited, aroused, but very nervous. I must be whatever She wants and I don't know what that is, yet. Then there's Mistress Carolyn. I want to please Her. I guess I'm not good enough for Her. That makes me sad. It must be my fault. I must be a terrible slave. I must do better somehow. "I know! I will beg to serve Her. I haven't served Her pleasure yet. Yeah, that might do it!" I decide. This is what runs through the mind of a trained slave girl as she silently kneels chained to a table leg to serve. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 12 The feast Mistress Nancy daintily raises one finger slightly. Both Elisha and I jump to attend Her. She ignores us, leans toward Mistress Carolyn, half whispering in Her ear. "What are you going to have darling?" She coos sweetly to Her lover "I haven't decided yet myself," She says while caressing Carolyn's forearm. Mistress Carolyn smiles, turns and lays Her other gloved hand over Nancy's hands that are on Her arm. She stares deeply into Nancy's eyes, "I will start with porta bella mushrooms stuffed with lobster. Then I will have... ummm... just a cup of French onion soup. A nicely marbled ribeye steak, medium rare... hmmm... 6 ounces. A small Caesar salad too. I will have... hmmm... curly cut Cajun french fries with that." She says this never taking Her eyes off Nancy, knowing that two slaves must hang on Her every word. Mistress Nancy smiles softly. "That sounds delightful dear. Girl, fetch another Sauvignon blanc for me. I will then have... ummm... three small Maryland crabcakes with cocktail sauce. Ummm... cream of broccoli soup with cheddar cheese, just a very small cup. I want grilled Ahi tuna... from the South Pacific... with lemon sauce, broiled scallops, a sliver of grilled flounder... ummm... braised asparagus tips, just the tips, not the stalks... Oh! A medium size baked red potato with sour cream and chives, not too large." She never even looks at us slaves. She sips the last of Her wine and I immediately get it to place on Elisha's tray. I bend low to take Her linen napkin, I kiss it, unfold it, and place it in Her lap. With my anklet chain jingling, my long chain tinkling across the floor, I sashay around to Mistress Carolyn's throne with a sultry sway of my hips. I kiss and unfold Her napkin too, kneel to place it carefully in Her lap. Now I'm happy. By serving always from the left, I'm now between the two Mistresses, Carolyn to my right, Nancy to my left. I'm sure Elisha will remember Their orders perfectly. Slaves do not have little note pads and pencils. Besides, Elisha's hands are manacled behind her anyway. We MUST memorize commands. To not place Their order perfectly would be horrible. I've been locked into stocks hanging upside-down and the bottoms of my feet were whipped with a springy cane until they bled for bringing the wrong wine once when I was an 8. Also, there's nothing like a menu. They order anything They want. It had better be found or made fast and it had better be exactly as They wish, or else. They all carry whips even at dinner. I notice Mistress Nancy's quirt dangling from Her skirt belt matches her purse and has a jeweled handle. Dainty and stylish, but very effective I'm sure. "Yes Mistresses. Certainly Mistresses. Right away Mistresses." Elisha says and curtsies cutely. she backs away respectfully, turns smartly in her ballet booties, and trots toward the kitchens to recite the order to the appropriate grade 7 cook slaves. I'm sure she'll hurry back by way of the bar to fetch the wine. I just kneel quietly, deferentially. A waitress slave should be almost invisible. They're chatting pleasantly about Clitoris Alliance business, like secret plans to control entire countries without anyone realizing it. I discover that Mistress Carolyn controls several huge communications conglomerates. Mistress Nancy seems to have something to do with trading precious or rare metals like gold and titanium in international markets. I try not to let my chains be noisy and distract Them. I glance down below the salt. I shouldn't. I should be totally focused on the pleasures of the Mistresses I'm serving. But I can't help it. The Guards are LOUD! They're mainly eating spare ribs and BBQ chicken, swilling beer, swigging whiskey straight out of the bottles. Some are arm wrestling. One is squatting on the mouth of Her grade 9 slave splayed out on the table with the slave's head hanging over the edge... while the Guard whips the girl's pussy. A freaking platoon of serving tray girls are running around constantly with pitchers of beer for Them. Some of the Guards start singing boisterously. It takes a minute to make out what the words are They're so drunk, but I realize right away that the tune is just like "99 bottles of beer on the wall." Standing arm in arm to hold each other up, swaying, almost falling face down on the floor They sing... "99 manacled sluts in the cage, 99 manacled sluts. Take one out and whip her cunt, 98 manacled sluts in the cage..." They go on and on while laughing uproariously. Guards sure do have fun at parties. I love rough strong women. They're cute... except for the cattle prods. I turn my head just a little, hoping no Mistress sees, to look at the head of the table. Mistress Jane is holding court. Other Dommes titter and laugh at Her jokes. She has two server tray girls holding hors d'oeuvres and one more just for Her ashtray plus two waitress slaves like me attending Her. The ashtray girl scurries around to be under where ever She wants to flick Her cigarette ash. The two waitress slaves trot around, bent at the waist to dip the little spring rolls into whatever sauce She nods toward. She looks like a queen. So elegant, such a stern facial expression. She makes me cream. I hear a whoosh behind me and a lash slashes down my back. The Maîtresse d' is behind me and not at all happy! my left shoulder blade down to the small of my back sears with pain. "PAY ATTENTION SLAVE!" She bellows at me and lashes me again, right to left this time. "Yes Mistress, thank You Mistress, slave begs forgiveness Mistress," I whimper really distraught that I was not serving properly. I deserved the lashes and I'm truly sorry. I start to turn around to lick Her feet but Mistress Nancy reaches down and absentmindedly strokes my hair. I snap back to devote myself to whatever She and Mistress Carolyn might want. I'd purr if I could. The Maîtresse d' turns to walk away. Whew! Mistress Nancy must have decided that my sleek, shiny dark brown hair is nice after all. I remember Her original disappointment I'm not a brunette. I turn my head slightly and kiss Her fingers. She smiles down at me, caresses my cheek. She saved me from the Maîtresse d' flaying the skin off my back. I think I love Her. Elisha trots back to us. As gracefully as I can, I unfold myself from kneeling to see what's on her tray. She's got the wine of course, various hot fresh rolls, small bowls of butter, and the hors d'oeuvres. I spend the next several minutes swaying sensuously back and forth between her tray and the Mistresses. I must bend far over at the waist despite my corset to place items at Their fingertips. Mistress Carolyn glances at me and nods toward the rolls. I pick one, break it open with my fingers and butter it for Her. When I've finished I kneel quietly again. Elisha scurries back to the kitchen for the next course and the second brandy Mistress Carolyn just ordered. Mistress Nancy turns to smile down at me while She eats. She brings a morsel of crabcake to my lips and hand feeds me. I take it delicately in my teeth gratefully, chew it. We slaves are not allowed to use our hands when we are hand fed. "Oooo! This is good!" I think. I lean in and nuzzle Her hand with my cheek, kiss Her soft sleek latex-clad thigh. She gives me another piece. Elisha returns with the brandy and the next course. I serve again while she stands patiently like a good table should. I kneel again and she returns to the kitchens for the next course. The Mistresses chat about controlling world events, assassinations, the weather, redecorating Their rooms, shoe sales, all sorts of things, and then the conversation seems to turn to some pet Nancy wants! Elisha returns with the next course and I'm quivering as I serve diligently, silently hanging on Their every word. They speak as if I'm not there. Like I'm a house plant or piece of furniture, which is normal I guess cause a slave IS just an object. "... but honey,"Mistress Nancy wheedles, "the slave would be no trouble. I'd feed her and we could have low slaves come to clean her litter box." "I'm not sure Nanc. Rattling chains might keep us awake at night," Mistress Carolyn answers uncertainly. "If the animal is too noisy, we could always add a steel sculpture in the sitting room. We could use a bench by the front door anyway." Mistress Nancy suggests. Mistress Carolyn just shrugs and continues eating. "Look what I had made," Mistress Nancy says happily, bending down to open Her purse on the floor. She brings out the most glamorous collar and shackles I ever saw! Gold! Elegant fillagree design! I see with delight the tiny high security key slots on them. I almost wet myself. She holds it out for Carolyn to see. "Aren't they just perfect for her?" She asks. I almost drop a plate but catch it real quick. I kneel as fast as I can so I don't faint, but still remember to do it sensuously. Mistress Carolyn puts down Her fork, takes and examines the collar, turning it over in Her gloved hands. "This isn't just gold is it?" She asks. "No silly!" Nancy says with a smile. "Of course it is 14k gold plated but it's chrome vanadium steel inside. Extremely strong. That's what they use to make the best quality tools. Dear, You could not cut through these with a hack saw in a week. The saw blade would wear out first. Look how well it goes with her hair and makeup." She holds it near my face. I have no idea what to do and freeze, remembering to smile meekly though. "I'm still not convinced Nanc," Carolyn says shaking Her head slowly in the negative. "I want a 9.5. It's a matter of prestige. I won't have just any old alley cat." Mistress Nancy pouts, returns the lovely slave jewelry to Her purse. They stop talking. It's obvious to me that Carolyn runs Their household. I hesitantly lean in to kiss Mistress Carolyn's leg. I don't have permission to do this and could be slapped across my face and pushed away at the very least. I look up at Her with puppy dog eyes. She looks down at me blankly but not unkindly. I dare to kiss and lick Her leg more. I rub my cheek against Her. She ignores me and continues to eat. I don't have any idea how She took that. I suppose that a house cat doing the same things would have simply been tolerated. My mind races. It is literally BEATEN into us how the grade points for slave ranks work. Records from ages ago are shown to us so we understand it's always been this way and always will be. In the castle museum They have ancient slave records in glass display cases. Every Clitoris Alliance facility has some. There's a clay tablet written in cuneiform from Phoenicia. There's carved ivory from Egypt, funny, it's shaped like a dildo. In later ages, a girl's record could be an engraved armlet or charm bracelet, locked on her of course. There are adorable Japanese anklets like strings of beads showing scores of different things in different colors. All slaves are drilled over and over again that our lives are at the mercy of Mistresses. A girl can go up or DOWN in rank by how she serves. The Dommes take this seriously. Most take the time to study you and grade you every time They use you. It's important to Them because They want to see what kind of slave meat you are as judged by Their peers. We girls know that Mistresses just might possibly be... ummm... errr... cruel bitches... not that I'd ever say that, out loud. ONE sour facial expression, ONE spilled drink, accidentally rake Her clit with your teeth ONCE and the Domme might give you two hundred zeros, especially if She's at "that" time of month! A girl could find herself back in a dank slimy dungeon in Punishment restraints in a heartbeat. A Mistress can do anything. We love Them deeply, we obey Them without hesitation, and we fear Them terribly. Most Mistresses are fair though because They respect and use the sensible time honored system. And women are fair and smart anyway of course. That's why there's so many 5, 6, and 7 girls, average realistic scores. A slave would have to be out of her mind to never graduate to 5. But sadly some don't. The sun bleached bones at the bottom of the castle walls tell that tale. My mind races trying to figure what I must do to raise my score. Since almost everything a girl does is graded, thousands of events go into her record, especially with modern electronic records. A slave learns to beg to serve, beg to be whipped, beg to be tortured, anything to be used often and hopefully improve her bondage. But to raise her score a tenth of a single point, she must get like a hundred tens! My heart sinks. Without realizing what I'm doing, I whimper sadly. The rest of dinner seems less happy to me. I serve dessert and coffee demurely with a soft smile glued on my face even though I feel like a truck ran over my heart. Mistress Nancy still reaches down to stroke my hair occasionally, hand feeds me some cake too. But I do my job with no hope. Eventually They stand and leave. They don't take me with Them. A Special Day In The Life Ch. 13 Elisha and I clean the table. Well, I bend over to pick up stuff, she just stands there like a table. I see low slaves of all sorts whipped to direct them to clean a spill, put away silverware, polish a scuff on the table from a girl's manacle, mop the floor, all the normal work you'd expect. Girls are let out of the steel sculptures and lick the feet of their Mistresses in gratitude. That last licking thing reminds me. My lips are very dry even if they do look like slick mirror-finish gold. I try to swallow but my mouth and throat feel like a dirty sock. I've had nothing to drink since lunch. Four Guards are still drinking and singing and wobbling around all goofy-like on Their stiletto heels even though the feast ended. They're only three table legs away, thirty feet or so. I decide I must chance it. Elisha has all the dirty plates and glasses on her tray now anyway, so I kneel as seductively as I know how. Mistresses?" I call out very boldly for a slave, "Perhaps this slut could serve Your pleasure? This slave begs 'Mistress wine' from You please. slave is very very thirsty," I beg as respectfully as I can. The four Guards poke each other in the ribs, wink at each other far too much, laugh, giggle and stumble toward me. The highest rank one is only a Sergeant. The other three are Battlement Guards, not even Dungeon Keepers or Slave Drivers. They're Clitoris Alliance lowest rank troopers and a feast is a rare treat for Them. They might not have even seen a 9 grade slave before today. Suddenly, I wonder if I made a mistake. To them, I'm a flame broiled, well-marbled steak when They're accustomed to hot dogs. I smile seductively and lick my lips suggestively anyway. The Sergeant lifts Her skirt and wobbles toward me unstably but grinning. I kneel up and tilt my head back. Forty-five minutes later I'm no longer thirsty. I've had the honor of slurping and licking and sucking the "Mistress wine" of the entire squad. They were very tasty. They gushed beautifully in my mouth so many times. I'm very grateful and I tell each one of Them so repeatedly. I beg permission to lick the boots of each one after being used. I'm thrilled They let me. They ruffle my hair, pinch my nipples and anything else They can get Their hands on. I kiss and lick Their hands when I can and when They let me. The Maîtresse d' stands with Her hands on Her hips, staring at the clock by the entrance arch. I hope I'm not whipped for taking too long but I was doing my job, and I truly was thirsty. She turns away and just leaves me still ankle chained to the table leg. I guess i'm not going to be punished. I didn't know what else to do since Mistress Carolyn and Mistress Nancy just walked away like that. I feel a pang of deep sadness. I had hoped so much that I would go home with Them. Soon my chain Driver returns for me. I can not look sullen or pouty. I'd be lashed. I pose like a lingerie model but feel like a robot inside. She unlocks me from the table leg and adds me to Her line of slaves. We are led out of The Great Hall. I don't care. As a high slave, I guess I'm going to be taken back to my cell, alone. I sigh and don't care if I'm tortured for it, but no Mistress hears me I guess. We go through the kitchen, out the back by the storerooms, down hallways and down spiral stairways back to the dungeons. The Mistress stops us at the wardrobe room again and my leash is unlocked from the back of Sarah's collar. She hands me off to the staff like taking a car into the shop to be serviced. I'm used to this. I'm just a thing here. My wrist and ankle cuffs are removed so I can be undressed easier. They take off my booties, my hosiery and gloves, my corset. I'm saddened to be taken out of my cute latex that matched Mistress Nancy's outfit. Despite my best effort, tears fill my eyes. I so had hoped it meant something special. Now I'm just naked again. Plain, just property, unwanted. This is how we are stored, like cereal boxes in a grocery store on shelves. I stand numbly as shackles are locked back on me, longer chains this time but I barely notice. My arms can now hang loose, not chained close to my collar. They hand me back over to my driver Mistress and we start down the corridors again. I try very hard to bounce and jiggle and sway with a sultry smile plastered on my face even though I feel totally worthless. "Hmmm," I think, "this is not the way to my cell." Then I remember my promotion. I wonder where 9s are kept. I never saw that before. We are led to a part of the dungeons I don't know. It's not way down deep. It's near the shopping mall for Dommes. I gasp seeing what must be where 9s are kept. I've cleaned it before manacled on my knees but I always thought this was some special slave trading area. These are not dark dreary stone cells with heavy iron doors. They're open, lite, airy like gilded bird cages. The floor is white marble with gold veins running all through it. They're elegant displays spaced several feet apart so a Mistress might walk around them examining the merchandise, us. Being last in the chain, I'm taken to mine first. It's far at the back of the room which I guess is because I'm a lousy 9, undoubtedly the worst 9 in the world. I hang my head a little, then remember my training and fake a seductive smile anyway. I still feel like poop though. As Mistress unlocks my anklets and wrist cuffs, I look at the cage. "Not bad!" I think. It's like eight feet tall at its arched top and maybe nine or ten feet wide across its circular floor, quite roomy, and does look just like a bird cage. I'm thrilled to see an actual Persian carpet on the floor near the slave ring recessed neatly into the floor. The carpet is like six feet long and three feet wide, looks an inch thick. I can hardly imagine having a plush oriental carpet to sleep on! There's my very own litter pan too! AND it has the sparkly little crystals mixed in the clay to absorb .... ummm.... smells and fluids. There's a folded comforter, not just a blanket. It's beige satin and quilted! It must be nine inches tall and two feet across even folded! "Gawd! How ritzy!" I think. Mistress unlocks the door to take me inside but pauses by the door. She points to a gold plate on the door frame, which I realize is actually a LCD display. She touches it and bright red letters appear against the gold background, very pretty, very clever, very convenient for Dommes. "Look slave," She commands. I look. It's my name and summary of my records. It shows.... Slave Name: hotbox Property#: 000-172-358-771 Training and Usage Events: 8,923 Grade: 9.697 Current Bid: 450,900 US$ = 309,663 EUR = 36,915,184 YEN = 8,475.515 GRAMS GOLD High Bid To Date: Mistress Carolyn Sternn The eyes of some of the other girls bug out. I even hear one girl mutter under her breath, "Lucky bitch!" "Day-em!" I think in wonder as it all slowly sinks in. "Someone thinks I'm worth as much as a really really nice house!" I'm being bid on to BUY as a personal slave!!! I ponder Who has an option to buy me and my mouth drops open finally noticing it's Mistress Carolyn. I realize She's bidding on me. It looks like... it might be.... could it be??? OMG! I'm probably going to be a surprise gift to Mistress Nancy! OMG!! The enormity of it all overwhelms me. I must have been graded ten like a couple thousand times! One Domme must have keypunched for hours, or several Mistresses, or a whole platoon of Guards, I have no idea. Then the drunken Guards spring to mind. I'm filled with love for those rough, tough, DD-cup boobed galoots. They ALL must have graded me multiple times in Their dazed drunken state! Then it hits me. This cage is far from the BACK door to this area. It's actually at the FRONT nearest the entrance Mistresses would use. I swallow hard. This is the FIRST cage. I must be THE prime meat now. My mind reels. I tremble. I strut proudly into MY display cage. I slither sensuously to a half reclining, half sitting position on MY rug. I flip my head around, letting my hair swirl across the floor to come to rest behind me. I slide my fingers across the soft inch thick nap of the colorful ornate floral design carpet. It's SO plush! Mistress locks a glittery chain to the back of my collar, then removes the leash from my front ring that She held. She locks my new leash to the slave ring on the floor behind me. I hardly notice that it's an incredible eight foot long chain now. I reach forward and hug Her legs. I quickly slide around to kneel at Her feet, the palms of my hands alongside of my head on the smooth marble floor. I delicately lick then passionately kiss Her boots. I kneel up. "Thank You Mistress," I coo, sincerely grateful, smiling up at Her, "Thank You very much!" She playfully pushes me over onto my butt. "Go to sleep slut," She says with an actual smile. She lashes at my tits playfully. I think it feels just great. I place my palms close together on the floor behind me, arch my back, jiggle my tits and make kissey faces at Her. She grins and wiggles my left nipple with the tip of Her crop. "SLUT!" She yells but with a smile. Then She turns, leaves my cage, and the door clicks locked behind Her. I am very pleased to see some of my sisters are almost awed, studying my behavior. I blow kisses at them as they are led away. I reach for my unbelievably soft luxurious comforter. My leash jingles on the marble floor. I roll over on my side and curl up, wrapping it around my shoulders, clutching it. It's SO big it even covers my feet! Soon I'm asleep, happily dreaming of a golden collar and shackles like fine jewelry that only ONE Mistress can unlock. I grin in my sleep. THE END