Chapter 10 -- Outdoor Destinations

Katherine shakes us in bed and yells, "Get up you two! Get up!"

Sally and I slept the whole night together snuggled up in Sally’s bunk bed, and Katherine is now standing over us with a serious look on her face.

I open my eyes and look up at her. "Mistress, what’s wrong?"

"You are not supposed to be sleeping with sheets. Bed sheets are only reserved for second class and up." Katherine explains.

Sally and I get out of her bed. Katherine, appearing very authoritative in her head maid uniform, orders us to follow her immediately. We don’t take a shower or use the toilet, or turn our pussy shields on, or eat breakfast or do any of our other morning activities.  We simply walk naked with her all the way out to the fifth hole of the golf course.

"Stay here." she commands and walks back to the mansion.

Sally and I are feeling a little guilty for violating another rule. We were hoping that we would be out of bed before Katherine came downstairs. As we stand shivering with the morning dew at out feet, we wonder what Katherine and the Master have in store for us as discipline. It is unusual for us to be out here like this. Almost all discipline I have ever seen or gone through took place in the dungeon. My bladder is very full, so I decide to urinate on the grass. Sally watches me and does the same.

An hour and a half later, The Master, Katherine, and all the slaves walk to us with the Master carrying a bag. They stop in front of us, and Master empties the contents of the bag: assorted chains and padlocks.

The Master speaks, "Slave Marissa, you have been found wearing bed sheets, which is an infraction of the rules. Slave Sally, you aided and abetted another slave to violate a rule, which is also an infraction. Therefore the two of you shall be disciplined. Since the two of you like to rely on each other’s body warmth so much, we shall enable you to continue enjoying it as part of your discipline. Slave Sara, slave Jackie, please proceed."

Sara and Jackie move us so that I am facing right up against Sally. Our toes, knees, pussy shields, stomachs, and breasts are touching one another. My nose is one inch away from Sally’s. Sara and Jackie begin wrapping chains around our ankles, working their way up our legs and waists. Sara tells us to wrap our arms around each other so we are hugging. Jackie promptly handcuffs our hands behind each others’ backs, then runs additional chains through them and attaches them to our waist chains with padlocks. Finally, our upper torsos are wrapped in chains, around our shoulders and under our arms, and lock in place with more padlocks. Sally and I can’t help but continue embracing each other. Our four ankles are locked together so we can’t walk.

The Master continues speaking, "Slaves Marissa and Sally, the keys to the locks shall be sitting on a patio table by the pool. You can free yourselves when you can reach them. I hope that your discipline today teaches you that you must follow the rules given to you in the Slave’s Rulebook. This concludes the discipline. Dismissed."

On that note everyone returns to the mansion and resumes their duties for the day, except the two of us. Sally and I just look at each other and down at our chains. The fifth hole is the furthest hole from the swimming pool. We have several hundred yards to travel before reaching the keys. Walking would have been a cinch, but we are not given that luxury.

Sally asks, "What do we do now?"

"We try to make it back to the pool where the keys are." I answer.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

We think a moment then I suggest, "Can we try jumping?"

"You mean hop our way to the pool?"

"Yea."

"Okay let’s try. Ready 1-2-3."

We both jump but don’t quite jump and the same time and quickly fall on the grass. We land on our sides, and Sally’s arm takes the brunt of the fall.

"Ouch! That hurts." Sally complains.

It is impossible for us to get back up. We soon find that rolling over each other is the quickest way to travel. When we reach the fourth hole, we take a break from rolling. Sally is on the grass facing up; I am on top of her facing down. My nose is still an inch away from hers. We look into each others’ eyes. I am not sure if it is gravity pulling on my strained neck or my estrogen level, but I slowly lower my lips onto Sally’s. She puckers up. With both our eyes closed, we kiss for several seconds. I raise my head back up and open my eyes. Sally slowly opens her eyes. We just stare at each other with blank faces and say nothing for a half a minute.

Sally breaks the moment by softly saying to me. "We better keep going."

I come out of my drunken lust state and agree with her, "Yea, you’re right. Let’s keep going."

We resume our rolling on the golf course: past the third hole, in and out of a bunker, and to the second hole. We stop our progress when we see two men and a woman walking towards us with golf bags. One of them is the Master; the other a man I had never seen. A naked-looking Maria is serving as their caddy. The men look like they are playing golf and are about 30 feet away having a casual conversation. Master ignores us. The other man keeps glancing our way and no doubt is curious about what two naked women are doing chained up to each other on a golf course. He does not ask Master who we are or what we are doing. They continue playing and move on.

After a few hours, we finally get off the grass and roll onto the hard pool deck. The deck has a half dozen patio tables, but Master did not say which one the keys would be on. The patio tables have metal legs painted white. The tables are round and made of frosted glass. We roll to the closest table and look up through the glass.

"Do you see anything?" Sally asks.

"No, not this one." I reply.

And we move on to the next table. We painstakingly make our way to all six tables but find no keys. Not knowing what to do next, we just lay there. Soon, Sara comes out and asks us, "Looking for these?" Twirling around her index finger are the keys that we so desperately need. Sally and I say nothing and both frown as we face our tormentor.

"I am tempted to throw these in the pool, but if Master found I did that I would get in trouble. So, I think I’ll just put the keys back where I found them."

Sara walks to the patio table that is farthest away from us, places the keys on it, then walks away. Sally and I roll our way to that table. Just as we reach it, Sara comes back out to the table. "Oh I am sorry. I put the keys back on the wrong table. He left them over here. My mistake."

Sara grabs the keys and puts them on another table a few yards away. Just as she is doing that, Katherine cames out.  "Slave Sara, what are you doing?" Katherine inquires.

"Oh I was just going to hand the keys to Sally and Marissa. They look like they need some help."

"It’s not your place to be helping a slave while they are being disciplined." Katherine forcefully says. "Don’t you have to be sorting books in the library or something?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Well, then get to it."

"Yes Mistress."

Sara walks back into the house. Katherine comes towards us, grabs the keys, and unlocks us. I can finally bend my joints again after being locked up with Sally for almost six hours.

"Are you two all right?"

Sally and I answer in the affirmative.

"Go get cleaned up and get something to eat. Your discipline is over. I think you learned your lessons." She says kindly.

"Yes Mistress." We answer in unison.

It is Saturday, and Master is taking all third class slaves and above to the beach. He is also giving us all two gifts. The first are 100% waterproof, sandproof, dustproof, saltproof, hermetically-sealed pussy shield covers, his newest invention. Made of a clear plastic, wearing them over our pussy shields allows us to swim in the ocean, play in the sand, and enjoy the ocean air. They are a little uncomfortable but manageable for short-term use. I definitely would be wearing mine to the beach but not for everyday wear. The second are virtual swimsuits. Each slave gets a different one. Katherine gets a triangle tank one-piece, with white floral design on a black background. Jackie gets a one-piece, portrait back top, which ties at the back of the neck, solid green. Sara gets a one-piece, V-neck halter, pink with white polka dots. Linda gets a one-piece, bandeau tank, with a back closure, solid navy blue. Maria gets a two-piece, consisting of a bandeau top, similar to Linda’s but dark pink, and a matching bikini bottom. Sally gets a one-piece, side-tie tunic, aqua color with a teal floral design. I get a two-piece, made up of a bikini top and matching swim mini, green with white polka dots. The swimsuits are so convincing, it even looks like Katherine has two full breasts. Master is so impressed with his work that he decides that we will project them in the cars all the way to the beach.

Everyone is excited about the beach trip, except for Bethany. She has been getting lazy in her chores, so Master chains her to the toilet in the basement for the entire duration of the trip. She will clean the entire bathroom with a toothbrush and will be released when we return. She would not have been able to go anyway, because she is still an apprentice slave.

We take two cars: the minivan and the four-door coupe. The Master, Sara, Sally and I ride in the minivan. Katherine, Jackie, Linda, and Maria take the coupe. The beach is on a coastal town, and suburban homes are very near the beach. The closest residents only have to walk across the street, then down two flights of stairs to reach the sand. When we arrive at the beach, parking is scarce. The beach has no parking lot, so we have to park on the street. The minivan reaches the beach first and finds a parking spot about one block away. We get out and unpack our gear, just the typical beach blankets (yes, Master allowed them this time), beach umbrellas, folding chairs, coolers, picnic baskets, and lots of sunscreen. We carry our gear to the beach from the minivan. When we reach the beach, a sign says, "NUDE BEACH." The Master swears that he didn’t know it was a nude beach, but no one seems to mind, so we head down. Passengers from the coupe join us about fifteen minutes later on the beach. Master pulls out his remote control and turns off everyone’s pussy shields. The swimsuits stop projecting and disappear, and we now blend in with all the other nudists on the beach, including the Master, who takes it all off.

We all have a wonderful time swimming, building sand castles, eating Linda’s water chestnut sandwiches, macaroni salad, fried chicken, and watermelon. The sun is shining. People are in a good mood. Sally blows up a beach ball, and we hit that around for a while. Sara sets up a badminton set, and some of the slaves play with that.  Occasionally, some gawkers are using binoculars are at the top of the cliff, but we ignore them.

Sally and I also take some time to comb the beach on our own and talk.

"Mistress Sally, I would like to talk about what happened at the golf course a few weeks ago."

"What about?" She asks.

"Well, we sort of kissed briefly. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember. But as far as I am concerned it didn’t happen."

"What do you mean?"

"I am not a lesbian, and I love Master. I am not sure why I kissed you and would rather not do that again."

"Oh, I see."

Sally takes my hand and kindly explains, "Slave Marissa, you’re my best friend, and I want to keep it that way. I don’t want anything to come between my and Master. You understand?"

"Yes, I do. That’s probably best. Our Master should come first, and I love him, too." I reply.

As the sun begins to set, everyone on the beach starts packing. Soon, we are the only ones left. Master take out his remote control and turns everyone’s swimsuit back on--except mine. Feeling a little self-conscious, I ask Master a question, "Master, can you turn on my swimsuit, too, please?"

"No, slave Marissa, I shall not. You are heading back as you are."

He continues folding his beach umbrella and tying it up. I pause for a moment in my confusion, and then ask, "Master, I am afraid I don’t understand."

"I did not want to say anything until it was time, but I suppose that time is now. Slave Marissa, you are taking the second class final exam tonight."

"What?!" I gasp.

"As promised, as soon as your ankle healed, I would allow you to take the exam. I have been watching you run around on the beach all day. It looks healed to me."

"Yes, but I was not expecting this."

"All the more reason to take the exam now. You never know when you might be naked. It could be anywhere anytime. Knowing how to stay dignified when suddenly and unexpectedly naked is much better than being embarrassed. Don’t you think?"

I look around at all the other slaves who are busy packing. Either they already knew about the exam and kept it a secret, or disn’t seem to care about learning about my predicament right now.

"I guess. So, is this the drop-off point? And where is the pick-up point?"

"Well, this is obviously the drop-off point, but the pick-up point is going to be a little different than a typical second class exam. You see, you need to find the pick-up point in the form of a four-door coupe."

"Huh?" My confusion level is rising.

Master speaks to Katherine, "Slave Katherine, the keys, please."

Katherine walks over to us and hands Master the keys to the coupe, who then hands them to me. "Somewhere parked within five square blocks from here is the coupe. Find it and drive it home. When you reach the mansion, you pass the exam."

It becomes clear to me now what Master’s intentions are. "Master, how is everyone who came here in the coupe getting home?"

"We are all piling in the minivan," Katherine answers. "It has an additional row of seats in the back."

It sounds to me like they had this all planned from the beginning.

Master continues, "We did not want this to be a repeat of your previous second class exam. This is a make-up exam, which means that it is slightly different, but the difficulty level is about the same. It is also potentially shorter. Unlike a traditional second class exam, which takes 24 hours, this one only takes as long as it takes to find the vehicle and drive home. You might say it is in-between a first class and second class exam, because there is no pick-up from us, yet we are providing you a means to get home. Who knows? With any luck, you might find the car in fifteen minutes and be home in an hour."

My heart starts to pump harder. I am getting very nervous knowing I am going to be left nude here. All the other slaves except Sara wish me luck. Sally gives me a hug. I watch everyone climb the stairs and disappear up and over the cliff. I am standing on a completely deserted beach with absolutely nothing but keys in my right hand, wearing my pussy shield, and plastic shield cover. Dusk has arrived.

I turn around to sit facing the ocean and decide to wait until it is dark enough to make the attempt. For my earlier second class exam, I was out in the woods with no one around, well, except for those two goons. Now I have to run naked through the city streets. People are in their homes; cars are driving by. Ugh! I’ll be seen for sure. I bring my knees closer to my chest, wrap my arms around my legs, and bury my head in my lap. I reminisce about my time spent with the Master: the first time he saw me, the meals, the discipline, and the dance lessons. Ah, the dance lessons. I love dancing with him. He smiles and is very patient with me as I learn. I don’t wear dance shoes (or any shoes for that matter) when we dance, so when he steps on my feet, his ears know it. I wonder if I will ever get dancing shoes--real ones. Soon I fall asleep and have a dream.

It’s a sunny day, and I am standing naked on the beach. A couple of other people are around, but I do not know them, and they don’t know me. I feel myself sinking into the sand: first my ankles, then my knees, legs, pelvis, tummy, and chest. I struggle to get out but cannot. My shoulders, head, and arms are immersed into the sand. At first I cannot see anything but open my eyes and can see the sand. The sand does not enter my eyes, and I can still breathe. At first I am stuck and cannot move at all. But later, I use my arms and legs to begin "swimming" through the sand. I am able to move easily through it. The sand feels very soft, like cotton, and fluid, like water. I come to believe I am a sand mermaid, enjoying my time inside the beach.

Someone else is in the sand with me. It’s Master! He is swimming in the sand naked, too. We hold hands and swim together. Even though we are buried in sand, we can still see each other and see where we are going. The sand is so warm, fluffy, and smooth. It’s a wonderful feeling. Master and I hug, then kiss as we spin in buried sand.

I wake up, and the beach is dark. The sun has set. When I feel it is dark enough and late enough, I slowly walk up the stairs and stop to just peek over the street. Street lights are everywhere, but no one is out and about. No cars are coming, so I climb the last few stairs and onto street level. Anyone driving by or looking out the window from their beachfront home will see me. I quickly cross the street and head down the nearest street running perpendicular from the beach. Keeping a sharp eye out for the coupe, I run quickly under street lights and slow down in-between them where the street is not as well lit. I reach the end of the block and randomly decide to turn right and go down another street. I see lights on through the windows of some homes and can hear television sets running in their living rooms. Perhaps I started this too early. Too many people are still up. I have no way to know what time it is but guess that it is not yet bedtime.

Suddenly a car rounds the corner and heads my way. Before the headlights can catch me, I duck between two parallel-parked cars on the street. The car goes by. Whew! I get up and keep walking but still see no sign of the coupe. Oh where can it be? I might spend the whole night looking for it. I turn another corner and walk down another street, getting farther away from the beach. Two more cars drive by. I react accordingly by ducking behind cars or bushes, whatever is closest and easiest. If a car happens to stop right where I am hiding, I am screwed.

Without warning, a man walks out the front door of a house, stops at the driver’s side door of his car and sees me. We both freeze. I am about three houses away. Remembering what my Master said about dignity, I casually walk behind a tall fence in the front yard of a neighboring house in the hopes that he will get in his car and drive away. I hear nothing for a few minutes. I assume he is either still waiting for me or he went back into the house. Then I hear a car door opening and closing from his direction, but no sound of a car engine starting. Another few minutes later I decide that I can’t wait any longer. Someone knows I am here and might try to find me. I have to get away. Peeking out, I don’t see him, so I step back onto the sidewalk and keep going. As I pass his parked car, I see him inside leaning towards me with a surprised look on his face. I keep stride and start running away. He just sits there and looks at me. My heart slows down when I turn another corner away from his field of vision.

In addition to looking out for people at their house windows, cars driving by me, and people on the sidewalk, I also now look through parked car windows to make sure no one was sitting in their car while I walk by. Additionally, I still need to find that darn coupe. Sometimes I walk by a house with a motion sensor porch light. I can’t always tell at first if it is me walking by causing it to turn on, or someone in the house flipping a switch. I learn to hate them and gasp every time a light turns on near me.

After what seems like hours and several more blocks, I finally find the coupe. I put the key in the lock, turn it, open the door, and get in. Yes, I found the right one. I look around and quickly put the key in the ignition, and start the motor. I am driving home.

Yes!

Eventually I have to leave the quiet residential streets and drive on a multiple lane, well-lit street with several stoplights. I stop at the first light. Before long, a car, with two guys in it stops at the light next to me on my left. It doesn’t take long for the guy in the passenger seat to notice that I am topless. He probably can’t tell I am totally naked.

He tells his driver to look in my direction. Now they are both staring and gawking at me. The red lights always seem to take longer when you are in a hurry, like I am right then. Hurry up and turn green! The light finally turns green, and I hit the gas pedal hard, speeding up faster than they. Unfortunately, the next light also turns red, and I have to stop again. The car on my left pulls up next to me again with those two guys laughing at me and having a great time at my expense. My body might be chilled from running around in the ocean night air, but my face is feeling really warm. Once again the light turns green, and I put a lead foot onto the gas pedal, determined to make the next light. I reach the intersection just as it turns yellow and go through. By the time those two guys reach it, the light is red, but they try to run it. Crash! Another car that has the green light smashes into the driver side, a T-bone collision.

I breathe a little easier when I hit the freeway, because it doesn’t have many cars. It must be getting late. I finally make it back to the estate. Unlike my previous exams, no one is there to greet me when I pull into the driveway. I park the car in the garage, and then go through the house looking for someone anyone to tell that I am home and that I passed the exam. The lights sre off, and all is quiet. The kitchen clock reads 12:35 a.m. Through an ajar door, I see a light on in Katherine’s office and enter.

"Slave Marissa, there you are!"

Katherine and Master are inside talking. Katherine gets up from behind her desk and gives me a hug. Master also gives me a hug.

"Hi Master, Mistress. I made it."

"Welcome home. Did it go okay? Any problems?" She asks.

"Well, a few people saw me, and I did cause an auto accident."

"An auto accident? Are you all right?" Master asks with concern.

"Oh yes, I am fine. I was not in the accident. Two guys who were too busy watching me and not the stoplight caused the accident."

"Well, you’ll have to tell us all about it in the morning." Master says.

"Does this mean I made second class?"

"Yes, we’ll have the ceremony tomorrow, and congratulations." Master replies.

"Thank you, Master, and thank you, Mistress."

The next evening, I officially get promoted to second class slave via the slave promotion ceremony. I also receive my virtual blue-colored, second class maid uniform, my bed sheets, and kisses on my buttocks from Maria and Bethany. When I first got here, Maria outranked me and called me slave; now I outrank her. She will be calling me Mistress.

Current rank: Second Class Slave
No. of batteries: 5
No. of virtual outfits: 3

Chapter 11--Separated and Stuck Together

During the next year, Master takes on two more recruit slaves: Leslie and Laurie. Leslie comes first. She is petite like me but has curly brown hair and green eyes. Laurie comes to the mansion a few months later after Leslie got promoted to apprentice slave. Laurie is also small, and her hair is dark brown and shoulder length. Does Master have a thing for petite women? Hmm.

One day, Master calls Sara into his office along with Katherine. They are in a there a very long time, almost two hours. Suddenly, the door quickly swings open and Sara sprints out like a mad woman. The expression on her face looks like the world is coming to an end. Projecting her maid uniform, she passes the entryway, out the front door, through the front gate, and just keeps on running down the street. All the slaves wonder what’s going on with Sara.

At dinner that evening, Master explains, "Slave Sara is no longer part of this estate. I doubt we will ever see her again."

"What? What? What?" We all say to one another.

Master continues, "Sara has severely violated several rules of the slave’s rulebook and her contract. She has been under suspicion for some time now, and only recently were we able to prove that she committed those infractions."

"What infractions?" Linda asks.

"Well, when she took her first class nudity exam, she called someone ahead of time to secretly and discreetly follow us from the mansion to her drop-off point. After we stranded Sara at the park and drove away, her brother rode up in a pick-up truck, picked her up, and gave her some real clothes. They then went out to dinner and had a few drinks. Then he drove her to about a block or so away from the estate. She gave back the clothes and walked in naked, making it look like she got back all by herself."

"But isn’t asking for help okay?" I ask.

"No, it isn’t. The rulebook says that you can ask someone for help AFTER you get dropped off, not before." The Master explains. "And that’s not all. Slave Marissa, when you and slave Sally both took your nudity exams for second class at the same time, those piles of food you saw were a plant."

"A plant?" Sally asks.

"Yes, a plant. Ken and Jose knew ahead of time that you would both be out there. They knew what your favorite foods are, and set up the traps accordingly."

"They knew?! How could they have possibly known?!" Sally and I ask. Now we are leaning on the edge of our seats holding our breaths.

"Ken is Sara’s brother!" Master says.

"WHAAAAAT!!!" We all shout.

"Ken and Sara are brother and sister."

Linda’s eyes roll. Jackie spits out her food. I choke on mine. Sally’s hands cover her face.

Master continues, "Sara snuck into Katherine’s office and found out ahead of time where we were going to drop-off Marissa and Sally. She gave that information to Ken and his friend, Jose. Ken was also the one who helped Sara during her first class exam."

Katherine speaks, "Master, tell them how you found out."

Master responds, "I hired a private investigator to investigate Ken and Jose. My lawyer and I interrogated them in jail and struck a plea bargain with Ken. He confessed to everything for a lighter sentence."

With the truth about Sara out, every slave around the table starts talking about how Sara treated her, the glue, the singing, the hazing, the abuse, everything.

"Yes, we were suspicious of all that hazing too, but had no way to prove it. Today, slave Katherine and I sat down with Sara to discuss the whole matter, and we discussed discipline for her, everything from demotion to excommunication. She got so upset; she ran out and ran away."

"Master, why would she do such a thing? Why was she so mean to us?" Linda asks.

"Sara had aspirations to become head slave. She saw the rest of you as competition and threats to that end. Sara has separated herself from us."

It later occurs to me that the person Ken was talking to on his cell phone must have been Sara. And, all those candy bars that Sally saw during her second class nudity exam were planted there for Sally as a trap. If she had tried to grab one, she would have ended up in the cabin with me. It also made sense that Sara made it back so soon from her first class nudity exam. She had help.

After dinner, everyone gets up and breathes a sigh of relief. Sara is gone for good.

From the Slave’s Rulebook:

"Marissa, you’re a natural dancer," Sally says with encouragement.

I have been dancing and practicing regularly with Master for two years now. We take one lesson a week and practice twice a week in-between lessons. Sometimes Sally comes to watch us practice. I enjoy dancing with Master, because it gives us additional one-on-one time.

"Marissa, you have no idea how good you are getting. You and Master look really good on the dance floor."

"Really, you think so?"

"Definitely. Other slaves have tried taking lessons and dancing with him, but it never worked out. You know, I think you should choose ballroom dancing as your specialty." Sally suggests.

"Oh no, I could never become an expert. I was thinking maybe cooking."

"No. No. No. Do ballroom dancing. Linda already dominates the kitchen. You need to find another niche, and I think ballroom dancing is it."

I talk it over with Master, and he totally agrees with Sally. So, Master increases our private lessons to three times per week with Johan, and we schedule practice times almost every day. Getting to be a really good dancer is grueling. I am very glad now that I stay in shape. Getting kidnapped by Ken and Jose turned out to be a hidden blessing. If it wasn’t for them, I would never have seen Jackie chop those guys up in the cabin during my rescue, and I would not appreciate how important it is to be in shape. Since then I get motivated to work out more and HAVE been working out more.

Master is an international style ten dancer. This means we dance both the five standard dances (waltz, foxtrot, tango, quickstep, and Viennese waltz) and the five Latin dances (cha cha, rumba, samba, jive, and paso doble). I had never worked so hard in all my life. Housekeeping work is cinchy compared to this.

One day Master tells me that he signed us up for a local dance contest. I express my reluctance, saying that I’m not good enough and need more time. Master would have none of it. He wants to expose me to the world of competition as an incentive to get better. He also says that I will get both a virtual ball gown for the standard competition as well as a virtual Latin outfit for the Latin dances. Wow! I’ll get to dress to the hilt, just like those couples on television.

Master loads my pussy shield with the two outfits. I look in the mirror and Whoa! The buttercup yellow, full-length ball gown is made of lycra and chiffon. It has green, blue, and clear rhinestones on the top and long mesh sleeves. The lycra top has three differing length layers with a V-neck shape. The chiffon bottom has yellow feathers around the hem. A separate necklace has blue and green rhinestones. White lycra is on the neckline and waistline. I even get virtual diamond earrings and virtual yellow, closed-toe dance shoes.

Unlike the ball gown which hides everything, the Latin dress shows almost everything and is designed to be sexy. It consists of a sleeveless, shoulder-less blue top with flower and leaf print stretch net made of lycra. The white bottom has a stretch satin skirt down to just above the knees. It comes with a matching choker, gloves, nylons, and beige, open-toe Latin dance shoes, all virtual of course.

Master pulls out all the stops for the night of our first dance contest. We take the limousine. All the third class slaves and above, the Master and I pile in. Master is even nice enough to give everyone nice virtual evening cocktail dresses for the event. Apparently dance contests do have dress codes. Master has on his black tail suit, complete with white shirt, white tie and tails, and patent leather shoes. He looks so dapper. On the way there, I keep hearing, "Knock ‘em dead, slave Marissa," and "Break a leg, Mistress Marissa."

When we arrive, the ballroom is packed with over 500 people. Many competitors are already warming up on the hardwood floor. The standard dances are first, so I am projecting my ball gown. The announcer asks all the dancers to take to the floor to begin. I hear waltz music playing, so Master and I take closed position and begin our waltz. In international standard dances, partners maintain closed position at all times. During our lessons at the mansion, Johan kept reinforcing that we should dance very close to each other for the standard dances. This is a group dance contest, which means that other couples are dancing on the floor at the same time. We get through the waltz, foxtrot, and then we are up to the tango. The tango is a rather jerky dance, and not really smooth like the other standard dances. When we finish dancing the tango I find that I can’t separate myself from Master. After each dance, the couples separate and bow to the audience, then resume closed position for the next dance. This time for some reason, the pussy shield gets stuck onto the zipper of his tail suit. All the other couples are taking their bows, but Master and I just stand there wondering what to do.

"Slave Marissa, if we force it, the pussy shield could malfunction leaving you naked." Master whispers to me.

The thought of being seen naked in front of 500 people terrifies me and churns my stomach. I am motivated to stay very close to Master.

The music starts again for the quickstep. The other couples start dancing, so we just start dancing with them. When the music stops, we are still stuck. People are starting to give us weird looks. When the last dance, the Viennese waltz, starts and ends, we decide we would just walk together sideways off the dance floor and out of the ballroom. Every eye in that ballroom is watching us as we do this. I feel so embarrassed. Master and I find a private corner out in the hallway, where Katherine and Sally catch up with us.

"What’s wrong?" Katherine asks.

"We’re stuck -- her pussy shield and my zipper," Master explains, "and we are afraid that if we pull away too hard, it will break not only my zipper but also her pussy shield."

"What can we do?" Katherine asks.

"Try reaching between my legs and feel around. Try unhooking us." Master suggests.

Katherine cringes at the thought but looks around and reaches under Master’s crotch and starts feeling around the zipper and pussy shield. People are walking by giving us strange looks, so Sally stands and blocks the view the best she can. After a couple of minutes, Katherine successfully unhooks us, and we separate. What a relief.

Master and I find a secluded spot to use his remote to change my virtual clothes to the Latin outfit. Then he runs off to the men’s changing room to change into his. I revel in the fact that changing clothes for me is instantaneous. People who wear real clothes, like the Master, have to go through the trouble of changing in a dressing room.

We dance the Latin portion of the contest without incident. When they announce the winners, we come in fifth place out of seven couples.

On the drive home, everyone congratulates the Master and me for a job well done. Jackie is very impressed with my hip motion during the Latin dances. She did not think I had it in me. I am just glad I got through it without having to be seen naked in front of all those people.

Over the next few months, we continue taking lessons and practicing and entering more dance competitions. We solve the zipper and pussy shield problem with a modification to Master’s tail suit. Before long, we are bringing home a few dance trophies: third place, second place, fourth place, third place again, and finally winning a first place trophy.

"Slave Marissa, have you ever seen theater arts style ballroom dancing?" Master asks me.

"Yes, I have seen them at the competitions. Those big men lift their partners and spin them around. It’s pretty impressive and quite elegant."

"I am interested in getting into that. I think you are small enough that I can lift you."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, I do. Let’s talk to Johan about it."

Johan is more than happy to teach us theater arts style. It is actually a combination of ballet, modern dance, jazz, and ballroom and consists of a lot of lifts and drops. There is not much traveling like in the standard dances. It offers us an opportunity to choreograph our own lifts and drops.

Since Master will be lifting me off the ground much more, he decides that it was easier if he and Johan can see my naked body, so he can know where to hold me. So from now on, I attend all dance lessons and practice sessions without projecting clothing. Some of the lifts require that he grab my buttocks. I am actually sitting on his hand after he lifts me up over his head.

At our next competition, we sign up to compete in the theater arts event. Master had not had time to design my theater arts dress, so we are in the limo with a USB cable sticking in my pussy shield and the other end of it to his laptop.

"Master, we’re almost there. Hurry up." I urge.

"Okay. Okay. I am going as fast as I can." Master replies.

We finally pull up to the dance hall, and Master says, "Close enough," disconnects me, then shuts down the laptop. I get unusually nervous because this is my first theater arts competition, and we are going into it with a dress I had never seen or projected.

Inside the dance hall, he uses the remote to project the dress. It is quite simple, all chiffon, dark blue, sleeveless. It looks almost like a ballerina’s dress but with a regular flowing skirt and not tutus. Master did a pretty nice job given the amount of time he had to put it together.

Because the lifts and drops are so dangerous, all theater arts routines are done solo. When it is our turn, Master and I step out onto the floor and begin. The first few lifts and drops are only at Master’s waist level, then he lifts me over his head. I am face up and my back is arched causing my head to drop back, so I am looking upside down. I hear the crowd roar and cheer and applaud. They seem to really be impressed with this lift and our dancing. Master lowers me back down. The crowd is still cheering for us. No other theater arts couple before us got this enthusiastic a response. My emotions are beaming at this point. I had no idea we are this good.

When we finish our routine, we get a standing ovation, which no one else received that night. We step off the floor, and people are still looking at us. A narrow thin mirror between two columns serves as wall decoration in the dance hall. I look at my reflection and notice that part of the top of my virtual dress has slipped down to my waist. Everyone in the dance hall could see my breasts! My face immediately turns red. I am flushed with embarrassment and reflexively raise my arms to cover them. I turn to Master who just smiles at me and did not do a thing to help me. He looks a little embarrassed, too.

We promptly leave the dance hall and step outside.

"Master, what happened to my dress?"