The Pussy Shield
by Chuppecatnutter

Chapter 13--Kidnapped!

Linda screeches into the manor with the minivan. She is huffing and puffing and has a panicked look on her face.

"Marissa, Jackie, something terrible has happened." Linda yells.

"Well, tell us. What happened?"

"The Master and Mistress Katherine. They have been kidnapped." Linda exclaims.

"Kidnapped" we respond in unison. "How?"

"We were on our way back from the store. No, I mean the restaurant. Yes, that’s right. It was after we ate. We were in the parking lot getting ready to get in the car, when two people, I think it was a man and a woman, jumped us. One of them hit me over the head with a stick and pushed me into the van. Then they forced Master and Katherine into their car and drove away. It happened so fast."

"We better call the police. Jackie, you’re head of security. Would you please?"

"Yes, I will," Jackie replies.

Linda says that they left her a note, "WE WILL CALL YOU AT NOON TOMORROW TO DISCUSS TERMS. DO NOT CALL THE POLICE. OTHERWISE THE DEAL IS OFF."

"Jackie, hold the call on the police." I say.

"But we need to call them. They know what to ..."

"No police. We can handle this." I respond with authority.

We listen to Linda tell the whole story, which isn’t much. The two kidnappers were dressed in black and wore masks. Linda doesn’t remember the color, make or model of the vehicle. She didn’t get the license plate. She can’t remember how tall they were; although she says that the man was taller than she. Linda feels awful about the whole thing and guilty that she could not do more to stop them.

I try comforting her. "Linda, this was not your fault. There is nothing you could have done. You were taken by surprise, and there were two of them."

"You’re right, Marissa. Thank you for the reminder." Linda says tearfully.

The whole household is in chaos with Master and Katherine’s kidnapping. Most of the slaves are upset; some in tears. Laurie is probably the least affected, because she hasn’t been there as long. I am just angry.

"Jackie, you are going to answer the phone, right?" I ask.

"Me, why should I answer the phone?" she replies.

"Because you are in charge of security."

"I am Master’s bodyguard. My training is for when Master is being physically assaulted. I defend him. I have never handled a kidnapping before. You answer it."

Jackie is physically strong and fit. I guess I assumed she would know what to do, but I suppose she had never been in a situation like this before.

"Jackie, do you know how to use the tracing equipment?" I ask.

"Yes, Katherine showed me once."

"Set it up. We are expecting a very important phone call tomorrow."

Shortly before noon, all the slaves gather around the phone to anticipate the upcoming phone call. I am sitting next to the phone ready to answer it. Exactly at noon the phone rings.

<ring, ring>

I answer, "Hello."

"Hello this is Sara."

"Sara?! What do you want?!"

"I want what is rightfully mine, my share of the estate." Sara replies.

"Your share of what?"

"Fifteen million dollars should cover it."

"Do you have Master and Mistress Katherine?" I ask.

"Yes, they are here."

"Let me speak to them."

Sara hands the phone to Master. "Hello."

"Hello Master? This is Marissa."

"Slave Marissa."

"Yes, it’s me. Are you all right?"

"Yes, Sara and her brother are holding us."

"What about Katherine? Is she okay, too?"

"Yes, she fine and here next to me."

Sara takes back the phone. "I want 15 million dollars delivered in cash to me by tomorrow Noon. Do you understand?"

"Yes, how do we deliver it?" I ask.

"We’ll let you know tomorrow at 11:00 am." <click>

Sara hung up the phone, and I do the same.

"Jackie, did you get it?" I ask her with anticipation.

"No, not enough time to complete the trace. Sorry." Jackie replies.

"That’s okay. We still have tomorrow." I reply with confidence.

I tell all the slaves to continue their duties and assure them that we will do all we can to ensure Master and Mistress Katherine’s safe return. I then enter Katherine’s office to start looking at bank papers and making phone calls to local branches. I have only one day to get all the money. I also go into the Master’s office...

At 11:00 am the next morning, the phone rings.

"Hello."

"Hello Marissa."

"Hello Sara."

"Do you have the money?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Meet us at the Acme Warehouse on Fourth Avenue at noon. You know where it is, don’t you?"

"Yes, I know where it is."

"We’ll be waiting. Come alone, and remove the battery from your pussy shield. I don’t want you hiding anything under those virtual clothes of yours. Got it?"

"Yes, I understand." <click>

Shortly before noon, I pull into the Acme Warehouse. Since this is a Saturday in an industrial area, the place is deserted. I have the only car in the parking lot. I get out of the four-door coupe with a briefcase. I remove my battery from my pussy shield, so I appear naked, and place the battery in the glove box. Ken comes out to the parking lot holding a rifle to meet me and make sure I am alone. He is wearing black from neck to toe. We walk to the door of the warehouse, slowly open it, and walk in. On the far end I see Sara standing over Master and Katherine. Sara is dressed all in black from neck to toe. Master and Katherine are both sitting down next to each other and are tied up in hard wooden chairs with rope. Both of them are naked and look helpless and tired. I start walking towards them. Ken walks behind Katherine and stands next to Sara. Sara is holding a .35 caliber pistol.

"Slave Marissa, it is so quaint to see you again," Sara says sarcastically and with an evil grin.

"I see nothing quaint about it." I reply.

"Is that the money in the briefcase?"

"Yes."

"Put it down."

I put down the briefcase.

"Back away." orders Sara.

I back up a few steps. Sara comes forward, fetches the briefcase, then returns to her original spot behind Master and Katherine.

She opens it up and finds lots of money. She smiles and says to me, "Good work." A moment later, the expression on her face changes. She places her hand on her pussy and starts to bend over. Katherine is also not feeling too well and starts to moan in agony. Soon, both of them are screaming in pain. Sara drops to the floor covering her pussy with both hands. Ken turns towards Sara to find out what’s wrong. Out of nowhere, Jackie runs towards Ken and tackles him from behind like a football player. She is wearing her jujitsu outfit. Quickly, I run towards Katherine and pull her chair away from the action. Jackie quickly grabs both the rifle and pistol away from the kidnappers and backs up towards me. I reach behind Jackie’s back and press a remote control taped on her back. Sara and Katherine immediately feel better. With the firearms in our possession, we are able to free Master and Katherine. We take Master, Katherine, and Sara with us in the car and later turn Ken in to the police.

Back at the mansion, everyone is elated to have Master and Katherine safely home. When we are sitting at the dinner table, Jackie and I explain how we successfully rescued them.

I start, "When I was in Master’s office, I experimented with the remote control that controlled the vibrating motion of the pussy shields. I learned that it had a limited range, about five or six feet. It only worked if the remote was used close enough to the shield. I placed the remote in the briefcase with the money and rigged it so it would activate automatically when Sara opened it. That is why both Sara and Katherine were feeling pain and why I pulled Katherine away to get her out of harm’s way."

Jackie continues, "I was hiding in the trunk of the car. Ken is so stupid. He didn’t think to check the trunk when he came out to the parking lot to meet Marissa. When the coast was clear, I hopped out of the trunk and made my way to the back entrance and snuck in."

"A second remote control was taped to Jackie’s back in case we could not get to the one in the briefcase. It doesn’t hurt to have a backup."

Sally asks, "How did you know Sara still wore her pussy shield? She could have removed it."

"You’re right. She could have, but she didn’t remove it. I took a chance." I explain.

"A BIG chance." Sally says.

"Katherine asks, "So where is Sara now?"

"Down in the dungeon, locked in one of the cages." Jackie answers.

Later in the evening, Master, Katherine, Jackie, and I enter the dungeon. All the other slaves are there waiting for us. Sara is fast asleep in a locked cage. Her hands are handcuffed behind her back, and her ankles are also locked together with handcuffs. She appears naked and still wears her pussy shield. Master unlocks the cage and drags her out onto the dungeon floor, which wakes her up. Jackie presses a button on the wall to lower the chains. Master unlocks her feet then attaches them to the leather leg cuffs attached to the ends of the dangling chains. He nods to Jackie, who presses another button, and the chains begin rising Sara off the floor. When she stops, she is hanging upside down with her head about three feet from the ground. Master opens a small can of purple paint, and uses a paintbrush to paint her buttocks, pussy shield, and breasts. Jackie unlocks Sara’s handcuffs, so her arms can hang freely.

Master speaks, "Slave Sara, you have violated several rules of the rulebook, and therefore shall be extremely disciplined. Mounted on the ceiling and wall are three small laser guns pointing at you. One is pointing directly at your pussy, another at your buttocks, and the last one at your breasts. They are programmed to only shoot at an object with purple paint. Each laser is connected to a computer that will randomly shoot laser bursts of energy, on average about one burst every minute. So with three lasers running at the same time, you should get about three zaps a minute. The frequency of the zaps is random, so you will never know when the next one comes. They will only shoot at purple paint. You can use your arms to cover the paint. You get to choose what parts to protect. It’s too bad you won’t be able to cover everything at the same time."

Sara just hangs there and whimpers. She has nothing but sheer terror written on her face. Master presses another button on the wall. The lasers start zapping. Sara is really awake now and starts yelling "Ouch!" every time a laser zaps her. She raises her arms to cover her breasts but then a laser hits her pussy. She then covers her pussy with her right hand just as her right buttock gets zapped. She then moves her right hand to cover one buttock, when the laser zaps her other buttock. The lasers are relentless and merciless. Sara’s arms tire and she is forced to relax them letting the lasers have their pick of which body part they want to attack next. We all watch as Sara is tortured.

Sara cries out, "Master! Please! Please have mercy on meeee! Ow! Master! Ow! I promise to be good. Ow!"

After watching her for several minutes, we get bored and decide to leave her there. As we  climb up the stairs, I ask, "Master, what do those zaps feel like? How bad are they really?"

"About as bad as a bee sting." Master replies.

As we close the door to the dungeon, we can still hear Sara’s pleas. "MASTER! PLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASE! MAAAAAAAAASTERRRRRRRRR ..."

The lasers zap Sara all night, about eight hours. The second and third class slaves in the basement next door have trouble sleeping because Sara keeps screaming so much.

The next morning, Master and all the slaves meet Sara in the dungeon. The lasers are still zapping her, but Sara appears to be unconscious. Master presses the button to stop the lasers. Jackie lowers Sara to the floor. Master undoes the leather cuffs wrapped around her ankles. After a moment Sara regains consciousness.

"Slave Sara, your infractions require me to excommunicate you. You are no longer a slave of this dungeon. You shall be excommunicated at the level of first class slave, because that was your highest rank obtained."

Katherine presents Master with his piercing kit. He opens it and uses a tool to open the rings to her pussy shield. Her pussy shield is removed from her. Sara is too weak to do anything but lay there. When Master gives the tools and pussy shield back to Katherine, she puts them aside and presents Master with a can of glue and a brush.

"Sara, you like playing with glue, don’t you?" Master says with a gentle voice.

Master opens the can of glue and begins painting under Sara’s armpits and down her sides to her thighs. He and Jackie then push her arms to her sides gluing them in together. He then brushes her crotch and the insides of her legs. Jackie then pushes her legs together. Her legs are now glued together. Once the glue dries, the only ways Sara can move by herself is to either hop around or squirm like an inchworm. Master then hands the glue and brush back to Katherine and asks a few of the slaves to help carry Sara to the limousine. During all this time, a tearful and desperate Sara is crying and begging for mercy.

"Master, please! I don’t want to be excommunicated! I want to stay here with you! Please! Please! I promise I’ll be good. I want a second chance. Master, don’t do this. Don’t send me away! MASTER!"

After we place her naked in the trunk of the limo and close it, we watch the driver pull away and out the front gate. Even then, from the trunk, we can still hear the muffled cries of a woman in dire straits.

We all go back inside to celebrate and toast Sara’s official departure with champagne. Master also thanks Jackie and me for a job well done in the rescue and rewards each of us with two batteries and some promised extra nights in bed with him. Some of the slaves ask Master what will happen to Sara. Master’s only reply is, "Far away from here."

Current rank: First Class Slave
No. of batteries: 7
No. of virtual outfits: 6

Chapter 14--Clothes, Clothes Everywhere ...

As a first class slave, I am now allowed to leave the estate on my own and run errands for Master. One of my errands requires me to buy some items in a department store, which has multiple stories. I am projecting my casual outfit today and decide to make the trip just as the store opens at 10:00 am. About four of us enter the elevator to go up to the sixth floor. As we are making our way up, the elevator suddenly stops in-between the third and fourth floors. At first the lights go out, and it is absolutely dark. But soon, emergency lights turn on, so we have some light. The four of us wonder what is going on. After several minutes of no elevator movement, one man, who looks like he is in his thirties with light brown hair and blue eyes, tries pressing the emergency button. The alarm sounds, which I find rather annoying. Another man is in his forties, wearing a business suit, and appears rather obese. He opens a panel in the wall and picks up the emergency telephone. He speaks with someone right away and is able to gather some information. He also lets the person on the other end know who is with him, namely the four of us trapped in the elevator. When he hangs up, he lets us know what is going on.

“There’s a power outage over several blocks in the city. It will be at least an hour or two before they can turn the power back on. A whole bunch of other elevators are also caught between floors. We are not the only ones.”

Rounding out the four of us is the only other woman in the elevator. She is middle-aged, curly blonde hair, and full figured.

“Is someone going to come get us out?” She asks.

“It’s going to take a while before rescue people can get to us. By the time they do, the power may be back on and it may not matter.”

It’s just my luck to be stuck in an elevator on my first solo trip as a first class slave. At least it will only be a couple of hours.

Tired of standing, the four of us sit down in our corner of the elevator after about an hour. None of us really talk much. The obese man grows impatient and picks up the phone again. After speaking with someone, he hangs up and tells us that the power outage is worse than they thought. Power may not come back on until well into the afternoon. Everyone moans and groans at that one and starts to express how their schedules are screwed up, because of this, missed appointments, missed meetings, no food. This has turned from a minor inconvenience to a big hassle.

Another hour later, I have a panicked thought: my battery is running out. Over the years I have been monitoring my battery usage and have gotten pretty good at knowing when my battery will run out. I always know to take a spare with me everywhere I go, and this trip is no exception. Before I left the estate to come here, I figured I had about six hours left on my current battery in the pussy shield. Usually I will use the women’s restroom to change batteries, which would have been my plan today. However, I am stuck in this elevator with these three people. I could change batteries here in the elevator but would appear nude the instant I take out the old battery. It would only take me several seconds to pop the new one in, but I would rather not have three strangers, two of which are men, see me fiddling with my pussy and seeing me naked all of a sudden.

We have been stuck in this elevator now for over five hours, and I am starting to get hungry and more importantly—nervous. I have less than an hour left on my current battery. If power is not restored soon, these three people are in for the sight of their lives. The woman senses my anguish.

“Are you all right?” She asks.

“Oh, I’m fine.” I mindlessly reply.

“Are you sure? Are you claustrophobic?”

“No, I just need to go to the bathroom. I need to go badly.”

As I say that, I think to myself that that is a good excuse for looking so nervous.

After several more minutes, the power is restored, and the elevator moves again. It continues to the sixth floor as we originally intended it. The four of us are relieved and exit the elevator. I look at a clock on the wall and discover to my horror that I only have about ten minutes left to get to a bathroom. Now that things are up and running again, everyone is playing catch-up and running around frantically.

I walk up to a sales clerk and ask, “Excuse me. Could you tell me where the restrooms are?”

“Yes, they are on the other side of the floor next to the customer service desk.”

He points in that direction. I say thank you and begin a very fast walk to customer service. On my way there I am only thinking about two things: the amount of time I have left and the bathrooms next to the customer service desk. Nine minutes to go. I reach the end of the floor where the sales clerk pointed but don’t see anything. I look both ways. Eight minutes. I start walking back and forth. It’s got to be around here somewhere. People are everywhere. This aisle is blocked. I go down another aisle. Seven minutes. Six minutes. I am beginning to perspire at this point. Five minutes. Three minutes. I find another sales clerk.

“Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom, now!”

“That way, miss. Then turn left. There is a sign marked ‘RESTROOMS.’”

I start running. Two minutes. One minute. There they are! I practically throw my body through the swinging door of the restroom. I made it. Whew!

And, it was not a moment too soon. I look in the mirror over the wash basins to see my naked body. The battery had just run out. Looking around the restroom I also notice something else, urinals! I must have walked into the men’s restroom. My heart starts beating hard. I need to change batteries and get out of here in a hurry. Fortunately the restroom is empty, and I run into a stall and close it. I have privacy at last.

Anxious to get my clothes projecting again and to get out of this male territory, I quickly dig through my purse to find the spare battery. In my haste, I lift it out of the purse only to fumble and drop it on the floor. The battery bounces, then rolls out of the bottom of the stall towards the wash basins and out of my reach. I open the stall door to get it, but before I can step out, I hear two men enter the restroom. I quickly shut the stall door and hold my breath.

“How about them Dodgers?”

“Yes, how about them? Do you think they might win the pennant this season?”

“I think they have a good chance.”

They both use the urinals. When they are done, they both walk over to the wash basins and near me. I hope they don’t find my battery or step on it. As soon as they leave I can get it. But before that happens, another man enters the restroom, and then another. One of them enters the stall next to mine. Fearing that he would see my bare feet, I step up and crouch down onto the toilet. Over the next hour, men keep entering and exiting the restroom, never giving me a chance to leave my stall and retrieve my precious battery. If any one of them wanted to peek into my stall, he would find a naked woman squatting with her feet up on a toilet.

After what seemed like a very long time and when the restroom was finally empty for several minutes, I open the stall door and step out. I look where I think the battery would have ended up but do not see it. I begin expanding my search, looking near other wash basins, inside other stalls, and desperately near the urinals. Soon, my eyes have searched every square inch of that restroom floor, but no battery is found. One of the men must have picked it up. A wave of despair rushes over me. I am naked in the men’s bathroom of a department store with no spare battery. I have no way to leave without being seen. At least when Linda was stuck naked in the grocery store, she was in the women’s restroom, and I was with her. Here, I am alone, and no one knows I am here. Feeling defeated, I return to my stall, close the door, and try to solve to my predicament.

No one enters the bathroom for quite a while. It then occurs to me that it must be getting late. The department store closes at 6:00, and we did not exit the elevator until 5:00. Given the time I have been here, the store is probably closed by now, which explains the inactivity in this restroom. I wait a few more hours to make sure no sales clerks are still lingering, then leave my stall, and take a peak out through the door of the restroom into the department store. All is quiet. Everyone must have gone home. I step out and my first thought is to find a telephone. I need to call home to let them know where I am and what my situation is.

I walk through the aisles to find a cash register. Most of them have a telephone. Perhaps I can use one to call out. The fluorescent lights are still on. Clothes, clothes everywhere, but not a stitch to wear. Like the ancient mariner who is thirsty out in the open ocean, I am naked in a vast ocean of clothes. When I reach the cashier, I pick up the phone, and dial but cannot seem to dial out. Maybe these phones are for internal use only. I will have to find a payphone somewhere. Wait a minute. The customer service desk probably has a telephone with an outside line. They take customer calls all day.

I walk back to the customer service area, walk behind the desk, and pick up the phone. It still does not work. I dial four numbers, then a phone starts ringing on the other end. I don’t know why, but I decide to let the phone ring to hear what happens. To my amazement, a male voice picks up the other end.

“Security. Bob speaking.”

I freeze for a moment not knowing what to say.

“Um. Um. Uh. Hello.”

“Yes, can I help you? Who is this?” Bob says with authority.

“Um. I was trying to dial out, but I guess I misdialed.”

“Well, you need to dial 9 first.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.”

I quickly hang up, then dial 9, then my home phone number. This time I am successful.

<ring, ring>

“Hello.”

“Hello, Mistress Katherine.”

“Yes?”

“It’s me. Marissa.”

“slave Marissa! Where are you? We haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’m still at the department store. I got stuck in the elevator for six hours and my battery ran out of juice.”

“Didn’t you bring a spare battery?”

“Yes, but I dropped it, and someone else picked it up.”

“slave Marissa, how do you get yourself into these things?”

“Oh Mistress. Please, I’m stuck naked in the department store. It’s after closing, and I need help.”

“You’re going to have to stay there until the store opens the next day. Where are you now?”

“I am calling from the customer service desk but will be hiding in the women’s bathroom next to it when you get here.”

“Okay. Sit tight and try to relax. We’ll be there as soon as the store opens. And whatever you do, don’t wear any clothes.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Just as we hang up, I hear the elevator doors open and close. Someone is on the floor, most likely the security guy that I talked to. He probably knows I called from the customer service desk and is walking this way. I duck and hide under the desk. He walks up to the desk and looks around. Then he walks behind the desk and looks around some more. He gets to within two feet of me. I can see his legs right next to me. If he bends down and looks underneath the desk, I am in big trouble. I hold my breath. Not a muscle in me moves. My heart races. After a few more minutes, he decides that no one is here and walks away. What a relief. When I hear the elevator doors open and close again, I assume that he left the floor, so I get up from under the desk.

It occurs to me that they sell watches in this store and more importantly watch batteries. I wonder if one of them would fit my pussy shield. If I could project clothes again, perhaps I can sneak out of the store and not get in trouble for trespassing. I walk around the department store and find the watch section. Bubble packs of assorted watch batteries are on the shelves. I still have my old useless battery, which I pull out and compare to the ones on the shelves. There are so many different kinds and sizes. I don’t know which one would work, if any at all. This one looks pretty close. At least the dimensions are the same. I open the bubble pack and install the battery. Nothing works. Keeping it in the pussy shield, I start walking back to the women’s bathroom. About ten paces later, I hear a scratching noise coming from the pussy shield. I look down and notice that bottom of my ball gown is visible but I am wearing the top of my swimsuit. As I continue walking, the swimsuit starts changing color and eventually disappears leaving me looking topless. This is strange. The battery must be doing some strange things to my pussy shield. I walk a little further, and my ball gown skirt disappears, leaving me looking naked again. When I reach the women’s restroom, I decide that this battery does not work too well and take it out of my pussy shield. I hunker down for the night.

The next morning the department store opens, and Sally shows up in the women’s restroom with a brand new battery. I promptly stick it in my pussy shield, but nothing happens!

“Sally, are you sure this is a NEW battery?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, it’s not working.”

“Give it to me. Let me see it.”

I take it out and hand it to Sally who then takes her battery out and places the battery in question into her pussy shield. Sally’s projector activates immediately giving her virtual clothes.

“It works for me just fine.” She quips.

“But why doesn’t it work for me?”

“Did you do anything unusual to your pussy shield last night?” she asks.

“Well, I did try using different watch batteries, hoping that I could get my virtual clothes back on.” I reply.

“Did it work?”

“Not really.”

I then tell her about the strange looking outfit I got from it and that the shield then stopped projecting completely.

“Wait here. I’ll call Master.”

Sally leaves me in the women’s restroom and calls Master. While I wait, a couple of women enter the restroom and give me some strange looks. They go about their business and leave. When she returns, she has bad news.

“I talked with Master. He said that the battery you tried to use may have overloaded the circuitry in the pussy shield. He suspects that it will have to be repaired.”

“Repaired?! Sally, I am stuck in the restroom of a department store. How am I going to get out of here?!”

Sally gives me a disheartened look and says, “I don’t know.” She goes out to call Master again for advice. When she returns, she says that Master came up with brilliant plan and is sending Dr. Otis over to the department store.

“How is Dr. Otis going to help me?” I ask.

“Master did not say.”

When Dr. Otis arrives, he meets Sally outside the women’s restroom. Sally returns with a hypodermic needle.

“Sally, what are you doing with that?!”

“Dr. Otis gave it to me to inject into you. He explained to me that it will stiffen you up and make you appear like a mannequin. Then, I can carry you out of here. Everyone will think you are just a naked mannequin and think nothing of it.” Somehow the idea of being stiff as a board and completely helpless does not take well with me.

“I don’t like this idea. Let’s think of something else.” I say.

“Now Marissa, Dr. Otis had to rearrange his schedule and drive all the way over here just to give me this. You don’t want to disappoint him and worse yet our Master, do you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Fine, then give me your arm.”

I hold out my left arm, Sally carefully injects the substance into me.

“There now that was not too bad, was it? It will take about 30 to 60 minutes for you to stiffen up. In the meantime, I will get a dolly so I can wheel you out.”

“Thanks, Sally.”

Sally leaves me alone in the restroom. Over the next several minutes, my joints and muscles become more and more difficult to move. I have to decide what position to eventually freeze to before it’s too late. I decide a neutral standing pose with arms at my sides is probably the easiest for me and for Sally, so that is my final pose.

When I reach the point when I cannot move at all, two female employees come in to use the restroom.

“Hey Charlotte, where do you want to go for lunch today?”

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s that health food restaurant that just opened up down the street. Maybe that one.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Hey, look Gail, there is a mannequin in here.”

“That’s funny. What’s a naked mannequin doing in the women’s restroom?”

“I don’t know, but we better get it out of here. You are in charge of dressing and placing all the mannequins in the store. You would not want our boss to find out there’s one in here.”

“You’re right, let’s carry it out of here.”

“Okay.”

Oh no! These two women don’t know I am a real person made to look like a mannequin. I wish I could tell them so, but cannot move or speak. I am helpless.

Charlotte and Gail pick me up and carry me out of the restroom and into the main store area. The department store is busy with lots of shoppers. No one pays much attention to us. I look like a mannequin after all. I wonder where Sally is.

“I know the perfect spot for this one: the window on the south side next to the purses.” Gail says.

“Yes, I know the spot. Good idea.” Charlotte replies.

After a few minutes and an elevator ride down to the ground floor, Charlotte and Gail place me in the window so I am facing the street. Any pedestrian walking by can see me in all my glory.

“This is the strangest looking mannequin I have ever seen.” says Gail, “She looks so real. Look at those pink nipples. None of the other mannequins have nipples.”

“You’re right.” replies Charlotte, “and look at that metal plate covering her beaver. I wonder what that is for.”

Charlotte starts feeling my nipples and also my pussy shield with her hand and pulls on it a little hoping it would come off.

Gail says, “Well, we better get back to work. We don’t have time to dress it now. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Charlotte and Gail return to their store duties. My naked body is now frozen and exposed for the entire world to see (or at least for the people walking by). I hope Sally can find me.

The hours pass and still no Sally. Where could she be!? People are walking up and down the sidewalk all day long. I have no idea how many of them are looking at me. It could be hundreds! Occasionally, a few men stop and drool at me. Even some women give me quizzical looks at my pussy shield. At least they can’t touch me behind the glass. In the evening the department store closes, but the lights in the store stay on. People can still see me. Over and over I tell myself that it is okay. I am just a mannequin and can still maintain my dignity.

A desperate Sally walks by and spots me. Here eyes widen, and her jaw drops to the sidewalk. She taps on the glass to get my attention.

“Marissa! Can you hear me?!”

Of course I can hear her. I just can’t tell her that, because my mouth cannot move. Oh, how I wish I could move. Sally continues to try talking to me but quickly finds that it is useless and eventually runs away.

The next morning, a few minutes before the store opens, Sally returns with Master in tow. They take a good long look at me, then walk into the store. Several minutes later, Charlotte and Gail move me away from the store and present me to Master and the store manager, who is standing next to him. From what I can tell, Master paid a chunk of money to the store manager to “purchase” me. The store employees cannot understand why anyone would want to pay so much money for a mannequin. I am just relieved to be back with Master and friends and to finally go home.

Sally wheels me out on a dolly to the parking lot. I am still naked and stiff as a board. Master assures me that everything is all right. We will all be home in a short while.

When we stop, we are standing next to the pickup truck. I wonder why in the world Master would bring the pickup truck. There is not enough room to fit all of us into the passenger compartment. Master and Sally load me onto the bed, then the two of them board the cab. I am now lying naked face up in an open bed truck.

As we drive through the city streets, buses and 18-wheel semis drive by and look down at me. Some of the drivers and passengers cannot help but notice my pink nipples and pussy shield. One guy in a bus even snaps a picture of me. This is an awful way to travel. All I can think of is the sooner I get home the better. I don’t care that people think I am a mannequin. They can still see me naked.

After what seems like the second longest drive of my life (the longest was my second class exam from the beach), we return to the mansion. Dr. Otis is waiting for me and injects another needle into my arm. He explains to me that I should soften up and start moving in an hour or two. I am unloaded from the truck and laid to rest in my own bed upstairs. Sally checks on me every few minutes. After a while, my limbs soften as well as my jaw and tongue.

“Sally, it’s good to be able to talk again. Thank you for coming to fetch me. I thought I would be the property of a department store for all eternity.”

“Marissa, you know we would never give up trying to find you. You are too important to us.”

Dr. Otis later comes in to check on me and makes sure I am in good health. I thank him and later thank Master as well for rescuing me in a way that did not require me to wear clothes.

Later, I spend two hours in Master’s office with him repairing my pussy shield. He “conveniently decides” that he is unable to fix it until next week, so I spend the next seven days walking around looking naked.

Current rank: First Class Slave
No. of batteries: 5
No. of virtual outfits: 6

Chapter 15--Bittersweetness

Katherine’s cancer has returned. Everyone in the estate is worried. She is seeing the doctors a lot and is having lots of chemotherapy. As the disease takes its toll on her, Jackie and I fill in to take some of her administrative responsibilities. Those business and hotel management college classes I take really come in handy. But, in spite of her best efforts and Master dishing out loads of money for the best medical care, Katherine’s condition steadily deteriorates. No one is saying it aloud, but we all know the end is near. I am at Katherine bedside. Katherine is very weak and has lost all her hair from chemotherapy. I break down in tears.

"Mistress, what are we going to do without you?"

"Slave Marissa, the estate is full of capable slaves. Part of the Slave’s Oath is to develop her full potential. One of you will replace me."

"No one can replace you, Mistress. You’re one of a kind. Master puts his brains into the estate, but you put your heart into it."

"That’s a very nice compliment, slave Marissa. I hope you can and will continue to put heart into the estate as well. In fact, I am recommending to Master that you take my place after I am gone."

"Mistress Katherine, I can’t take your job. I can’t run this place like you can."

"No, and you would not be expected to. I am me, and you are you. You would run this place with your own special style. I have not forgotten how you handled everything when Master and I were kidnapped. You took charge, got clever, and successfully saved us and Master’s money. That’s leadership."

Katherine and I hold hands and talk further. "Slave Marissa, open the bottom drawer of my nightstand. In it is something I want you to have."

I open the drawer and find a familiar picture frame with a picture inside it.

"The picture of my parents and me! Mistress, I thought I threw it into the fire during my apprentice slave ceremony!"

"No, I took it out before we had you burn all your clothes. I knew it was important to you, so I kept it for you."

I am so happy that my eyes well up again. I place my face into Katherine’s bosom and sob.


Katherine passed away two days later. Master modifies all the slaves’ virtual maid outfits to display a black armband around everyone’s arm, a sign of mourning. We all mourn. I miss her so much. A few days later, we have a funeral service out on the golf course. Katherine’s grave is near the site for the apprentice slave ceremony. For the next couple of weeks, the mood around the mansion is solemn and depressing. Morale is down. People perform their duties but without passion. No one really feels like doing anything.

After another two weeks, Master calls a meeting of all the first class slaves in his office. Jackie, Linda, Sally, and I are all standing in front of Master’s desk. Master is sitting down behind it.

"With Katherine’s passing, we are going to need a new head slave. According to the rulebook, I am to appoint one at my discretion. But, before I do so, is there any one of you who does NOT want to be head slave?"

Linda and Sally both reply. Master dismisses them. Jackie and I are left.

"This makes my decision a little easier. I will think about it in the next few days and let you know what I decide. Dismissed."

When we leave Master’s office, I begin to think what it would be like for me to actually be head slave. Can I really do it? Will I be at least as good as Katherine was? I also wonder what my chances are. Jackie has been here longer than I. I wonder if Katherine had a chance to give her recommendation to Master before she passed away. That would certainly help.

I later talked to Sally, "Sally, why don’t you want to be head slave?"

"I have a couple of reasons. One, I don’t want to compete against my best friend, and two, my passion is my landscaping work. I love Master, but when I am not with him I want to be out in the garden with my plants and dirt. Becoming head slave would take me away from all that."

Sally reminds me that Katherine used to play the piano more before she became head slave, but once she moved into a position of leadership, she did not have as much time. Running this place is a full time job. For me, this would mean not dancing as much with Master. Over the last year or so, Master and I have not danced all that much anyway. I think he might have moved on with other interests.

I ask Linda the same thing, and she gives me a similar response. She is happy in the kitchen and did not have any enthusiasm for paperwork.

A few days later, Master calls Jackie and me into his office. "I have given it much thought but have come to no conclusion. You are both well qualified. Both of you exhibit leadership well. Either one of you would make an excellent head slave. Therefore, I am going to let the two of you decide for me."

"Us? Decide for you?" I ask.

"Yes, you two are going to compete for the head slave position in the form of a race back to the mansion. It will be just like the nudity exam for first class slave. Both of you shall be blindfolded, taken to an undisclosed location equidistant from the mansion. Whoever makes it back here first becomes the new head slave."

I don’t believe this. When I made first class slave, I thought my outdoor nudity adventures were over. No more nudity exams. Now I have to do another one to become head slave. Jackie and I look at each other.

"Because this is a contest for head slave, I am going to make it more difficult. Each of you shall be handcuffed behind your back."

Master is really making this hard. On top of that, he wasn’t going to tell us how far away we were going to start. It could potentially be a hundred miles.

"The contest is tonight. Report to my office at 9:00 pm. I will drive both of you to your drop-off points myself."

From the Slave’s Rulebook:

Head Slave Requirements

The head slave is appointed at the pleasure of the Master among all the first class slaves and can be demoted back to first class slave just as easily. Only one head slave is allowed at any one time. The head slave is second in command of the mansion to the Master and runs the mansion when the Master is away. The head slave carries all the duties, responsibilities, and privileges of a first class slave, recruits new slaves, and sleeps in the master bedroom of the mansion.

Leaving the program without the Master’s consent carries the same excommunication as a first class slave.

As the head slave, it is your responsibility to lead, guide, and serve as a model to all other slaves. Lead with gentleness and compassion. Carry out discipline firmly but fairly. Always remind yourself that you are only second in command and that your Master has the final word in all matters.

  1. Serve as a first class slave for at least three years. (May serve less time if the opening of the head slave position is vacant and no other first class slaves have served at least three years.)
  2. Show demonstrated leadership ability among the other slaves.
  3. Complete the head slave ceremony.
  4. (optional but preferred) Satisfactory complete coursework in hospitality management, business administration, and/or leadership.

When the dreaded hour arrived, Jackie and I were both blindfolded and placed in the minivan. Master drove. The three of us reached my drop-off point first. Master helped me out of the car and walked me over to a tree in a park. He handcuffed both my hands behind my back, attached a chain to the handcuffs, wrapped the chain around the tree, then locked it with a timer lock. Master then removed my blindfold and the battery from my pussy shield.

"Slave Marissa. Right now, you are chained to this tree. I will now be driving slave Jackie to her drop-off point and doing the same to her. At exactly midnight, both timer locks will release the chains freeing both of you from the trees at the same time. You will still both be wearing your handcuffs. Make it back to the mansion before slave Jackie does and you are the new head slave."

Master then gets back in the minivan and drives away with Jackie to her drop-off point. I am now handcuffed and chained to a tree and projecting no clothes. I have no idea where I am. I will know what time it is when the timer lock releases me, but that is of little concern to me. When I was taking my first class nudity exam, I could at least take my time and wait for the right moment to make a mad dash. This time, however, I would have to move as fast as I could back home. This is also the first time I’ve been immobile. If someone encounters me, I have no way to run away from that person and would be completely at that person’s mercy. Lucky for me, that did not happen. I encountered no one during my time of tree captivity. I can see a full moon out. The night sky is filled with stars, and the temperature drops a little.

The timer lock finally releases me. I can only assume it is midnight. My hands are still wearing handcuffs in back of me. I start walking around the park hoping to find a sign or some clue as to where I am. The last thing I want to do is head in the wrong direction and lose time. Like my previous nudity exams, I am in a large wooded area. The only signs of civilization are the signs at trail forks. The names are unfamiliar. I don’t think I have ever been to this park before. Walking along one of the trails, I hear what sounds like an equestrian coming up from behind me. I promptly get off the trail and into some bushes, when I suddenly trip over something and fall over. When I look up, I am shocked to see two naked people, a man and woman, wearing pillories on their heads, hands and feet. They both look at me with equal amazement and surprise. Her head and hands are locked into one piece of wood with her hands on both sides of her head at the same level as her head and her elbows sticking out at a 90 degree angle; her feet are locked into another pillory spreading her legs about three feet apart. The man is locked in identical pillories. Thus, they are wearing four separate pieces of restraint. They are not attached to each other but look very immobile. Both of them are lying down with her on top of him. I get the impression that they were having sex until I tripped over them and didn’t want to get discovered anymore than I do. The three of us freeze as the equestrian trots by on the trail.

Then the woman speaks to me. "Who are you?"

"I am just someone out here for a walk." I reply, "Who are you?"

"We’re just out here enjoying the woods." She answers.

"But you’re naked just like me."

"Yes, we are." She confesses, "We’re actually in the middle of an S&M scene."

"Well, that’s a coincidence. So am I. My Master brought me out here. I am looking for my way home. Do you know where we are?"

"Yes, this is Cronenberg Park."

Cronenberg Park is about 15 miles from home. Now I have a pretty good idea of where I am.

"My name is Marissa. What is yours?"

"I am Violette. My friend here is Chuppecatnutter."

"Do you need help with those restraints?" I ask.

"No, I don’t think so. Besides, I doubt you have the key to open the padlocks on them."

I hadn’t noticed them before, but a padlock is on one end of each pillory locking it place.

"I see. Well, I am restrained, too." I turned around to show them my handcuffs.

"I am sorry we cannot help you." She responds.

"That’s okay. You both look like you’re worse off than I am."

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Marissa. If you don’t mind, Chuppecatnutter and I would like to be alone."

"No, I don’t mind. I need to be going anyway. It was nice meeting you, Violette and Chuppecatnutter."

"Nice meeting you, too, Marissa."

"Bye."

"Bye."

I get up and resume walking on the trail, which seems to go on forever. Having never been to this park, I don’t know the trail system and could actually be heading deeper into the park and away from any main road. I probably should have asked Violette how to get out of here but did not think of it at the time. In time, dawn arrives, and I am still walking around. I am very tired. My feet are blistering. My stomach is growling, and all I could think of is my nice warm bed back at the mansion. I hear another equestrian coming up from behind me. Again, I quickly get off the trail and hide behind some bushes. As the equestrian approaches, I see a stark naked woman riding a horse bareback. This park sure has a lot of naked people. Given my current state of fatigue and hunger and figuring that walking up to a fellow naked woman would not be threatening, I decide to reveal myself to her and walk onto the trail.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Could you help me please?" I ask her.

She stops to look at me.

"I could really use your help. I don’t know where I am. I have no clothes, and I need help with these handcuffs." I plead.

She senses the desperation in my voice and on my face. "Um okay." She replies, "What are you doing out here?"

"Well, it’s kind of a long story. Please I really need help."

The woman looks around, thinks a little bit, and then decides to help me. "I have a cabin not far from here. You can come with me if you want."

"Thank you SOOO much."

She and her horse continue on the trail while I follow a few paces behind. After a mile or so, I begin to fall behind.

"Wait!" I shout, "Please wait. My feet are very sore and blistered."

The woman turns around and helps me onto her horse. I am sitting behind her. What a sight we must be: two naked women riding a horse without a saddle. After another mile, we finally reach her cabin. She dismounts and helps me down. I wait for her to put her horse away in the corral then we both walk into her cabin. The cabin is small but very neat and tidy, a great improvement over the last cabin I was in with those two hoodlums who kidnapped me. Although clothes are accessible, the woman remains naked and prepares some food and drink in the kitchen. Still in handcuffs, I sit down in a wooden chair and just watch her.

"By the way, my name is Honey."

"Hi, I’m Marissa."

"Pleased to meet you. We don’t get too many other naked people out here. I was sort of surprised to see you out there."

"I have seen quite a few actually. Last night I saw a naked couple making love in the bushes."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, and they were wearing restraints on their hands and feet. Heads, too."

"You have on some restraints, too. I see."

"Yes, My Master put them on me."

"Master? Are you into bondage or something?

"Well, sort of. You see, I am a slave, and he sent me out here as sort of a test or race."

"This is sounding more and more interesting."

"I have been a slave there for a few years now. Our head slave died recently. The Master is looking for a new one, and he likes to test our resilience by sending us out naked and letting us find our way back."

"And you’re bucking to be the new head slave?"

"That’s right."

Placing a plate of food on the table, mostly assorted fruits and a scone, she motions to me to eat. I switch chairs so I can sit at the table. Unable to use my hands, I bend towards the plate and pick the food up directly with my mouth. The food is delicious, but my mouth gets smeared by blueberries, blackberries, and peaches. I surely look like a mess!

As I was finishing my breakfast, a naked man walks through the door. How many naked people are in this park? I have yet to see a clothed person since this whole race began last night. Did Master drop me in a nudist colony?

"Hi Buck."

"Hi Honey."

"Buck, this is Marissa. I found her out on the trail."

"Hi Marissa."

"Hi Buck."

Buck offers to shake my hand until I show why I can’t.

"Oh, you’re wearing handcuffs."

Honey explains to Buck how she found me and what I was doing out here. Buck listens very intently but doesn’t get freaked out or anything and offers to help me with my handcuffs.

"Yes, if you could get them off of me that would be a big help."

Buck grabs a toolbox, and pulls out some small tools for fine work. He fiddles with my cuffs for a couple of minutes, and presto: he successfully unlocks them. My hands are free at last.

"Thank you so much to the both of you for helping me."

"You are very welcome," they both answer.

"Can I ask another favor? Can I get a ride back into town?"

Buck and Honey both look at each other then back at me. "Um, you see, Marissa, we don’t have a car."

"No car?"

"No, Buck and I are both naturists and naturalists. We totally believe in the natural way of life. That’s why we don’t own any cars or clothes for that matter."

"But where did you get this food?"

"We have a small kitchen garden in the back of the cabin. We also hunt and gather other provisions. Occasionally we do need some extra supplies, so we wear clothes down to the general store."

"Well, in that case, could I use your phone?"

"I’m sorry, but we have no phone, but there is one at the general store."

I guess I should count my blessings. Buck and Honey might not have a car or telephone but were able to help me with some food and got me out of those handcuffs.

"I want you to know I really appreciate all that you have done for me. However, I really need to get going if I am going to be head slave. I am in a race to get home. If another slave beats me there, I lose out, and she becomes head slave."

"We’re glad we were able to help you. Good luck."

Buck and Honey verbally give me directions out of the park. We say goodbye to each other, and I walk out of the cabin. I am still naked, but at least I am no longer wearing those dreaded handcuffs.

I follow their directions and make it to the edge of the park. On the way, cyclists, hikers, and joggers come by on the trail, and I do the usual get-out-of-the-way-in-a-hurry routine when they get near me. I have gone as far as I can until dark. The paved road is too open and exposed for me to walk during the daylight. I sit in the bushes and wait. It would be at least a full day of me being out there naked. For all I know, Jackie made it back already and is the new head slave. If that’s the case, I might as well call home and have them come and get me. However, I have no way of knowing, so I have to continue on my own.

After dark and when I feel the road is deserted enough, I come out and start walking along the paved road. After a couple of miles, I see additional signs of civilization: more buildings and homes. I also look for a payphone. I might be able to call my friend George and have him come and help me like he did for my first class nudity exam. But so far I’ve been unable to find one. My feet are extremely sore at this point. Walking is just downright painful. If I don’t find another means of transportation soon, I will have to stop, and call home, and forget about being head slave.

After another couple of blocks I see a row of bicycles parked along a bike rack. Maybe I can steal one of the bikes and cycle home. I walk over and try to find an unlocked one. Yes, one is not locked. I pull it out and hop on. The seat is a little high for me, but my toes can still reach the pedals. I begin cycling and reach a speed of 20 to 25 mph. This is great. My feet aren’t taking a pounding anymore, and I am moving much faster now. I also know where I am and estimate I will be home in a couple of hours at the rate I am going. Cycling naked feels wonderful. The wind brushes all over my naked body. It also seems to be late enough at night that I don’t see any cars or pedestrians. If I do, I will just keep cycling as hard as I can until I pass them.

I am now cycling next to a row of parallel parked cars on a residential street. Without warning, a car door swings open right in front of me. Kaboom! I crash head first into the car door and fell over my bike. My left side of my body scrapes along the pavement for a few inches.

"Ouch!"

A man steps out of the car with a shocked look on his face. "Oh, my goodness. Are you all right?"

I lay on the ground a moment in pain.

"Hey, you’re not wearing anything."

Without saying a word, I slowly start to get up and assess my wounds. The man squats down and tries to help me. "What are you doing out here naked?"

"I was on my way home."

"I’m sorry I did not see you. The street was so dark, and your bike did not have a headlight."

I sit up and decide nothing is broken. My left side has some scrapes and bruises but nothing serious.

"That’s all right, I think."

He takes off his jacket and hands it to me. I decline. "No thank you."

"Are you sure? I don’t want you to get into any trouble."

"No really. It’s all right."

I get up and pick up my bike. The front wheel is completely mangled. There is no way I can continue riding it.

"I am really sorry about your bike. Can I give you a ride home?"

At that moment, a light dawns in my head. A ride home!

"Yes, absolutely! I would be very grateful for a ride."

"Hi my name is Larry."

"Hi Larry. I’m Marissa."

"I have never had an auto accident with a naked woman before. Are you some kind of nudist?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"Wow. That’s cool."

"Larry, if you don’t mind, I would like to get home. If we could get going..."

"Oh yes, of course."

Larry picks up my bike and puts it halfway in the trunk of his car. It doesn’t completely fit, and part of it sticks out. I get in the passenger front seat and buckle up. After tying down the trunk with some rope, Larry joins me in the driver’s seat. He looks at me like he’s hit the jackpot. As we are driving, I consider getting into this accident a hidden blessing. Now I can get home even faster, as long as Larry drives me directly home. He and I exchange the usual pleasantries, like where we live and what we do for a living. I don’t mind telling him I am a slave and that I enjoy streaking. Larry doesn’t seem to mind. He also doesn’t seem to mind glancing down at me. He does it so often that I have to remind him twice to keep his eyes on the road. I had already been in one accident that night. I don’t need another.

After 25 minutes, we pull up to the front gate of the manor. "Marissa, can I have your phone number?"

"Um, how about if you give me yours. I’ll call you."

"Okay."

Larry pulls out and hands me his business card.

"Thank you, Larry, for the ride."

"Oh no, Thank you for letting me drive you home. The pleasure’s all mine." He then proceeds to get out of the car, presumably to get my bike out of the trunk, but I interrupt him.

"Larry, you can keep my bike."

"Really?"

"Yes, consider it a gift."

"Um all right. Thanks, I guess."

Larry closes his car door and stays in the car.

I open the door and get out.

"Bye, Larry."

"Bye."

Larry waits for me as I ring the doorbell. Sally answers it and lets me in. Larry then waves at me and drives away. Sally and I give each other the biggest hug.

She whispers in my ear, "Congratulations."

"What? Don’t tell me Jackie isn’t here?"

We stop hugging and we look at each other.

"Oh she’s here, but she is not the new head slave. You are."

"How? What happened?"

"Come into the house. Everyone is waiting."

Sally and I walk into the entryway where all the slaves and Master are waiting. They all immediately give me a round of applause and cheers. Jackie is also standing among them clapping but doesn’t appear quite as elated as everyone else.

Master and the other slaves start hugging and kissing me and saying congratulations to me. I am overwhelmed by the reception and a little confused.

"I don’t understand what is going on. Jackie is here, but you are all congratulating me as the new head slave."

"Jackie was disqualified." Master explains.

"Disqualified?"

"Yes, she got arrested earlier today. She called from the police station, and we bailed her out."

I turn to Jackie, who looks a little dejected. "Oh Jackie, I am so sorry."

Jackie just looks at me and says, "Congratulations, Mistress Marissa. I got a little careless and was not paying attention. Someone must have seen me and called the police and had me arrested."

"Oh Jackie, I am so sorry." I repeat.

"Well, she is safe with us now and so are you, head slave Marissa." Master announces.

We later learned that an undercover cop saw her running down the street. He ran after her and arrested her. At the police station, she was forced to wear an orange jumpsuit. However, under the rulebook, Master did not cite her with an infraction and therefore did not have to be disciplined. Getting ridiculed and embarrassed at the police station was discipline enough.

The promotion ceremony for head slave is the following night in the dungeon. Master and all the slaves are in a circle. As usual, the slaves are all decked out in their maid uniforms. Master takes his place behind the podium and speaks.

Master: "Welcome to the ceremony for slave promotion. Tonight we celebrate the promotion of a worthy individual to the highest slave position. Our new head slave has distinguished herself in honesty and dignity through her nudity. I remember when I first met her. It was by the pool. She was young and naďve and very self-conscious of her body. But over time she overcame all that. Now she runs around naked like it was a walk in the park. And, as many of you know, she has walked naked in many parks. Even in the face of adversity, she was able to overcome difficult circumstances and rise above them. She faced abuse through another slave who is no longer with us. She organized the rescue of me and slave Katherine when we were kidnapped. I would not be here today of it was not for slave Marissa."

Master turns to me. "Slave Marissa, I owe you my life. This estate owes you its life. And I cannot imagine anyone better worthy to be head slave than you."

I am overcome with joy. My eyes begin to well up.

Master presses a button on his remote control to turn off everyone’s pussy shields. All the slaves appear naked. He then motions to Jackie to lower the chains and leather cuffs from the ceiling.

Master: "Slave Marissa. It is now time for you to receive the insignia of your new position."

I walk to the center of the circle and lay on the floor face up. As before, when I was promoted to third class slave, my ankles are strapped in, and I am taken upside down. My head hsngs two feet from the floor. Jackie takes two leather cuffs and puts each of my hands in them and buckles them snuggly. She then runs a rope from the D-ring of each cuff to an eye bolt anchored to the floor, then ties knots and tightens them so that my arms are outstretched. I am now in an inverted spread eagle position. Master walks in front of me. Jackie holds his piercing tool kit. Master opens the three rings to my silver pussy shield and removes them and the shield. For the first time in almost five years, my pussy is completely naked and free of hardware. But that doesn’t last long. After cleaning my pussy with an antiseptic wipe, he places a golden pussy shield over me with three new rings and closes them in place. The bulge on the inside of the new pussy shield goes twice as deep into my vagina as the previous one did. I am now wearing the one and only golden pussy shield for head slave. Master steps back to the podium, and Jackie lets me down. I return to my place in the circle.

Master is now standing on the pedestal. He grabs the remote control, and presses another button. All the slaves are projecting their uniforms again. I look down to see my black maid uniform with full-length skirt, the insignia of head slave.

Master: "Slave Marissa, as the new head slave, you must recognize my authority. Come and kiss the feet of the one who is superior to you."

Just like before, I kneel down and kiss Master’s feet.

Master: "Now all slaves must recognize and acknowledge the new head slave."

Master steps off the pedestal. I step up on it and bend over. Every slave kisses my buttocks then returns to her place in the circle.

Master: "This concludes the ceremony for slave promotion. Everyone give a round of applause to our new head slave."

Everyone turns to me and applauds and cheers.

After the reception that evening, Master and I spend some time in his office. He transfers all my virtual outfits from my old pussy shield to the new one. He also escorts me up to the Master bedroom, where we make passionate love that night.

The next day, I am sitting in my new office learning to find everything. Jackie comes in to see me. "Mistress Marissa. May I see you a moment?"

"Yes, slave Jackie. Please come in."

"Mistress, I want you to know there are no hard feelings. I wanted to be head slave but you won fair and square. I know you are very dedicated to this estate and love the Master very much."

"I am glad you feel that way, slave Jackie. I hope we can work together and still be friends. You are an excellent body guard and will protect Master well."

Jackie smiles. I get up, smile, and give her a hug.

Jackie and I talk some more, but then a buzzer goes off on my desk.

"Slave Jackie, I am expecting someone at the front gate. If you will excuse me."

Jackie leaves my office. I head out to the front gate projecting my head slave maid uniform. When I reach the gate, I see a very young-looking redhead with freckles. Appearing no more than 18 years old, she is about five feet one inches tall and very slender. Wearing ordinary street clothes, she holds her luggage in one hand.

I speak to her, "Hello, you must be Anne."

"Yes, I am here to answer your ad in the paper for a maid."

"Yes, we have been expecting you. Please come in ..."

Current rank: Head Slave
No. of batteries: 6
No. of virtual outfits: 7

Epilogue

I am sitting on a stool posing nude for my portrait. Master wants an oil painting of me to hang next to Katherine’s in his office. The painter he hired is the same one who painted the large nude painting of Katherine. He is very good at capturing the beauty of his subjects. Posing for a portrait is actually a little tiring and time-consuming. As I am sitting here, I reflect back on my life.

I have been the head slave now for almost 20 years. Even though I am in my forties, Master still thinks I am beautiful. I have become his confidante. He tells me everything. Well, just about everything. Master and I don’t dance too much anymore. He is off inventing new gadgets, while I am busy managing the household. I earned my bachelor’s degree in hotel and restaurant management at the local university. It took me six years taking classes part-time. I later earned my MBA in hospitality management.

I manage all the slaves here, which are many. We have slaves for so many specialties now: golf pro, swim instructor, librarian, a vintage dance partner for Master, a sous chef for Linda, assistant gardeners for Sally, just to name a few. In fact, we have had so many slaves join us and promote to first class, we had to build an annex to the mansion to give each first class slave her own bedroom. Master sleeps with them all, which means I sleep with him less often. At least as head slave, I get to sleep with him two nights in a row when I do get him, while all the first class slaves sleep with him only once per rotation.

Sally still lives here and has become my best friend. Elegant Gardens magazine did a feature story on her work here, and she has won a few landscaping awards over the years. The front cover of one issue shows her laying naked on a bed of roses, with petals covering just her private parts. It was the magazine’s best-selling issue. We still go on midnight naked streaks together sometimes. Jackie is still here and still practices her jujitsu. She occasionally enters tournaments. One time, an opponent kicked her groin in a sparring match, which damaged her pussy shield. She appeared naked to everyone in the auditorium and was forced to forfeit the match, because the judges would not let her compete in the nude. Linda still cooks here and has her own cooking show on an erotic adult channel, called Naked Cooking. The show emphasizes using natural ingredients in all her recipes. Sometimes she does the show completely without projecting any clothes. Viewer ratings are always the highest on those broadcasts. George graduated from college with his graduate degree in engineering and went to work for Master’s company. Occasionally, he comes over to the mansion to help maintain our pussy shields when Master does not have time or traveling for business. Maria, our token nudist, never promoted past third class slave and still frolics around the property without any batteries in her pussy shield. Bethany fell in love with one of the maintenance men on the property. I feared that Master might get mad and excommunicate her, but he had compassion for her and simply let he go. The wedding took place here. Master even designed a virtual wedding gown for her. Her pussy shield was removed, and she now lives a regular clothed life in town with her husband and two kids. I still see them in the grocery store every now and then.

Every anniversary of Katherine’s death, I bring flowers to her gravesite. I also sit and talk to her and let her know how I am doing and how Master and the rest of the slaves are doing. I miss her.

Occasionally I glance at the picture of me with my parents and wonder what they would think of me and my life here. All I can think of is that I am very happy here, happier than I have ever been. Master treats all of us very well. I have not worn a stitch of clothes in almost 20 years and would not have it any other way.


Deep in the jungles of the People’s Republic of Ankolasa, a country in Africa, where no white man has ever set foot, a hundred dark-skinned, naked natives are repeatedly bowing in unison in one direction and chanting, "Oobe gobala. Oobe gobala. Oobe gobala. Kakriita gotoerow" over and over again. In front of them, Sara is sitting stark naked ten feet up on a makeshift throne. Scar remnants appear in the inside of her arms and armpits and on the inside part of her legs. She smiles over her dominion. "Oobe gobala. Oobe gobala. Oobe gobala. Kakriita gotoerow. Oobe gobala. Oobe gobala. Oobe gobala. Kakriita gotoerow." means "Hail. Hail. To the white goddess with golden hair. Hail. Hail. To the white goddess with golden hair."