Chapter 1: Introductions

Casey:

I had arrived in New York like so many other model-wannabes hoping for instant success and instant riches. I thought I had the figure and the face but I was just under six feet tall and they all wanted more height. By my estimate I was four inches too short. Not that I didn’t keep trying. I must have sent photos to twenty different agencies. I simply kept getting letters saying ‘Thanks but no thanks’. I thought the long blonde hair and the pert breasts would get me in but it wasn’t to be. I tried for months but after a thousand dollars worth of professional photos and countless nights working at every fast food restaurant and two-bit diner I could get work at just to survive in the Big Apple, I was beginning to get desperate. I just didn’t have the luck that I thought I would. That was until I applied at Jupiter Collectables.

Jupiter Collectables was involved in antique jewelry. They had been in business for roughly twenty years from what I could gather. No, I didn’t find work as a model immediately. But I discovered shortly after starting work there that they were their own advertiser. They used their own employees as models. Each week we all participated in modeling the new pieces that would arrive. We were given a one hundred dollar bonus for each shoot. Finally I started making a little extra cash.

As months went by the other help found better jobs and left me with more hours, more responsibility, and more work of course. Eventually I was the only person other than the manager, Fred Coupling, that was left to attend to our clients. Out of necessity more than desire, I learned more and more about the business. Mr. Coupling apparently was impressed.

It was early summer of the year 2008 when I finally got to see the owner. Paul Simmons had flown into New York from his ranch in Nevada. He was younger than I imagined, perhaps in his early thirties. He was just over six feet tall and sported a thin mustache. I guessed he was either Latin or Italian, probably a little of each.

His wife and two beautiful female assistants accompanied him. I took notice immediately of the female assistants. They both were dressed identically. Both were made up exactly alike including the same shade of eye shadow, lipstick and rouge. They both wore their hair in ponytails held in place with identical gold bands. Their blouses were the same shade of beige and they were long sleeved, which seemed strange for this time of year. Their pants were the same black leather cut and their shoes were the same five-inch spiked stilettos.

They also wore a black cloth band round their throats. In the center of the bands were bright singular buttons. One wore gold. The other wore silver. It seemed out of place, even with these unusual outfits.

They both hung onto identical black leather purses. The purses were quite large which hung off their left shoulders. They never seemed to move their left hands from them, as if they were afraid someone might steal them. And they kept their right hands inside their pants pockets.

The most amazing thing about them though was that they remained absolutely silent. They didn’t even part their lips but a handful of times as if their mouths were full.

The wife, her name was Marie, led the women away after the quick introductions. Still they only nodded. Strange!

The owner, Paul Simmons, talked with the manager for a moment then introduced the help, me! I was the only employee left, of course. Mr. Couplings gave me high praise and it seemed that Mr. Simmons was quite impressed. I couldn’t say much.

I was left to tend to the phones and the counter while the bigwigs discussed whatever they tended to discuss. They sat at a table in the back of the room. Mr. Simmons constantly looked up at me in quick glances. When our eyes met I couldn’t say anything of course. I just smiled. He smiled back.

I overheard him say something like, "I’ll talk it over with Marie," before he headed upstairs. It made me curious.

"What do you think," Paul asked.

"I like what I see. You think she’ll bite?"

"Probably, but I have my doubts. I don’t think she’ll go the whole nine yards. Maybe though. A million bucks is a lot of scratch."

"It buys a lot of privilege though. If she accepts, she’ll be well aware of what we expect before she signs the contract."

"I’ve been through this before, Love."

Paul glanced up at the two silent servants. "Yes, I know you have."

"You know, Fred’s going to be pissed. We’ve used up all his other help. Shame they weren’t up to it. I hope this one stays a lot longer."

"That’s just the luck of the draw. Our friend back home seems to like the stock from here more than our other sites. I’m sure it’s a burden for Fred but it’s going to be a few weeks before she has to leave. He has at least a month. If necessary we might be able to move a couple girls from the Philly office. The initial fitting takes two weeks to set up and the first outfits won’t arrive for another month beyond that."

Marie nodded.

"That gives him six weeks to find a replacement. Fred should be fine. There are plenty of people in New York looking for a job. He won’t have any problems. Maybe he’ll find another candidate. Anyway, our friend will be here any moment. Why don’t you take the gags out and I’ll go get her."

When I entered the guest room I found Mrs. Simmons reclining on the loveseat while the two girls were seated in single chairs, sipping water. The girls had finally put down their bags and seemed to act more at ease. They both smiled as I entered.

Mr. Simmons sat next to his wife. "You’re probably wondering if there’s something wrong. Relax. There isn’t. From what we’ve heard you’ve done a wonderful job here. We’re quite impressed actually with your photos and we’re well aware of your modeling interests. We have a proposition for you, a proposition that could make you a tremendous amount of money if you’re interested."

My eyes immediately lit up. Big money? Finally I was going to get that modeling job! But it wasn’t to be for as soon as the wife opened her mouth I knew there was something that was going to drive this conversation onto a totally different track. How different it would be I had no idea!

"Casey, tell me something. Did you find anything strange about our two servants when they arrived?" she asked.

"Well, yes, of course. They both are dressed alike. It’s almost like they were trying to act like twins. But it’s obvious they’re not."

"Well that’s kind of obvious. Anything else that seemed strange?"

"Well, when I first saw them they didn’t say a word. I also thought the bags were a bit large."

"What about their hands?"

"Now that was unusual. I couldn’t understand why they kept their right hands in their pockets. I could see them resting their left hand on their purses. I mean it looks all sort of natural at first glance but when you stare at it..."

"We were bound and gagged," the girl on the right interjected. She seemed to mention this fact in a manner lacking any sort of excitement. It caught me off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"The gold bracelets we’re wearing are handcuffs. See?" the girl on the left noted as she held up her wrists.

"And the gag is made from a leather plug that’s bolted to our tongues," the other girl said as she held up an oval shaped piece of leather.

I looked at both like they were visiting aliens. "And why on God’s sweet green earth would you do this? Are you nuts?"

"Of course they’re not nuts," Paul stated resoundingly. "They’re just doing what we pay them for. Sandra is about to cash in on her third million. Even after taxes she’ll have close to two million in the bank. Joanne, that’s the one on my left, doesn’t get paid as much since she’s agreed to an easier schedule. But she’s been with me for seven years now."

"Are you saying they’re sex slaves?"

"Sandra’s a sex slave. Joanne’s a bondage slave. She doesn’t do sex."

Then it finally hit me. The reason for this little meeting was evident in their faces. "You’re offering me a job doing this? That’s how I’m supposed to make all this money?"

"Does the sex part bother you?" Marie asked.

"It all bothers me! I’m not a whore!"

"I’m not saying you are," Marie said.

I stared at them a moment, stewing in my own angry fumes. Damn, I had all these dreams. I was going to be a model. I was going to be making a million bucks a session. I never figured on getting involved with a bunch of perverts.

Then I thought about the bait. A million bucks is a lot of money. I wondered what I’d be expected to do. It had to be horrible. That’s what I thought until I looked at the two girls. I had to ask myself why they weren’t running out the door. I knew there was nobody to stop them. It wasn’t too hard for them obviously. The girl on the Simmons’ right wasn’t making nearly as much money and she wasn’t running. I knew I’d regret it but I had to ask the questions. There was too much money involved.

"You said a million bucks. How hard is it to make that kind of money?"

"Very hard," Marie noted.

"OK, tell me the details. I promise to remain calm."

It was Marie who gave the explanation. "We have two levels of service, bondage slave and sex slave. Sex slaves are bondage slaves that do sex."

"I figured that much out. What else?"

"Bondage slaves work five consecutive days during the week. We have flextime if you like. From Saturday till Friday there has to be five days worked in a row. The bondage slave selects which ones they want to work. They usually take the weekends off. Our bondage involves all sorts of gear; gags, harnesses, leather, pvc, vinyl, heels, boots, chains, rope. As long as it’s safe, we do it. Bondage slaves also must allow for dildos and enemas, not exactly something we enjoy discussing at length you understand. We keep everything sanitary though. We’re very careful about that."

"How much does a bondage slave earn?"

"A bondage slave earns $100,000 for a year’s work. Five thousand is paid after the first month and the remainder is paid upon completion of the contract."

"And to earn a million a year, I suppose I would have to let you have sex with me?"

"Yes, but a million dollars buys much more. For that million, sex slaves work 24-7. They get no time off and they are treated much more harshly. Sex slaves have sex on command, all of it oral sex. We will determine who you have sex with and you will not refuse. If you do, you’ll be fined severely. If you refuse often enough, you’ll be fired. You’ll be expected to have sex with both my husband and me, on command!"

"I’m not a Lesbian."

"For a million bucks, you’ll have to learn."

"You ask a lot," I said. But my eyes betrayed me."

"We pay a lot and we expect our money’s worth. If this is too much for you, I’ll stop wasting our time. Should I stop?"

I thought for a moment. "No," I croaked. My mouth seemed so dry suddenly. A smile appeared on Paul’s face first. Then I noticed they were all smiling. They realized I was hooked. They realized it before I did.

"I suppose I should continue then..."

She went into a lot of details, far more than I expected and far racier than I thought my ears would take. But I sat there stoically knowing that I would be a million dollars richer in a year’s time. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. Greed is such an ugly thing!

Chapter 2: Preparations

During the next six weeks the couple visited me often, both at work and at my apartment. Marie seemed to lead the discussions. Paul usually sat quietly nearby. Neither seemed to be nervous about discussing sexual matters. It wasn’t so easy for me.

The things they discussed were disturbingly honest. They told me on several occasions the methods they would use to enjoy by body. They talked about the bondage more than anything else. They were always asking me if this frightened me. When I said it didn’t, they didn’t believe me. I confessed that I just wanted the job. I told them I could deal with the fear.

They had me sign a release for my medical records. Since their company already had required me to take annual physicals for insurance purposes, there was already a substantial medical history available. However, since the insurance company was independent of Jupiter Collectables they needed my signature to get the information. It was all routine to them. I really didn’t have a problem with it either.

They explained to me the financial situation as well. Everything was to be above board with regard to IRS issues. All their slaves were actual employees. For tax purposes slaves were designated the role of ‘executive assistant’. They originally thought to call them domestic help but that implied that they were maids. Maids didn’t make a million bucks a year. The discrepancy might raise some red flags. Nobody wanted law enforcement or the media to poke their noses into this matter.

A week after our initial visit I visited a seamstress of their choosing. I had to drive to Manhattan to see her. I was warned it would be traumatic.

Janice Petricovski had her exclusive shop situated on the second floor of a thirty-story office building. The building had been renovated recently, reclaiming the older structure, creating an office building housing a diversity of small businesses. I found her office in the middle of the hall. My heart raced as I rung the bell and waited.

A tall well-tanned woman answered the door. She had full red lips and a lot of makeup. But the thing that I noticed was her long black hair. It was so long it went to her knees! It wasn’t a wig either, according to her. It was real.

We got down to business quickly. She told me she only had two hours before her next client arrived but she said we would have plenty of time. She started by having me try on a number of kinky outfits made of leather and pvc. None fit quite right in her estimation. She made a number of marks on the leather and pvc outfits before allowing me to remove them.

She also had me wear a pair of hip boots. The shoe portions fit fairly well in my estimation. However, she wasn’t satisfied completely with this fit either. She made a number of notes before pulling the boots to my hips. She took more measurements and made even more notes.

Gloves were presented. But before I was allowed to put them on she needed to trim my long nails back a bit. Each finger was then carefully examined as the gloves were applied. She also measured the diameter of my wrists with hands relaxed as well as with hands formed into fists. She measured the length of my arms from armpit to fingertip and from fingertip to center of my shoulder blade.

When I questioned her about all this she told me that she guaranteed every stitch of clothing she made fit perfectly. She took extra precautions to ensure that every outfit could be worn comfortably as well. Everything I wore for the next year would either be made by her or by one of her assistants. She inspected every item meticulously. Her business even made the footwear. I was impressed.

Next we got into more intimate measurements. Now she needed to check the dimensions of my breasts. I had to assist this time. First she took a rough measurement with a pair of calipers. I was happy to see that they had rubber tips on them. She next went to a drawer and pulled out a stainless steel ring. She warmed it with her hands and presented it to me. "Press it tightly around your right breast," she ordered. When I did it I noticed it was tight enough to make my breast stand out firmly.

After she examined my breast and approved of the ring’s fit she produced a small white board with black grid lines on it. With my free hand I was ordered to hold this board against my breast so she could take a couple of pictures to get the exact shape documented. She took three photos. We then repeated the process with my other breast.

She then made me gather my long hair into a bun and don a skullcap. A larger board, this one made of Plexiglas was produced and I was ordered to hold the board against my right ear as she took more pictures through the glass. She took pictures from all sides.

Then things got very interesting. She warned me that these would be the toughest measurements. She needed to measure my orifices. She promised to be as gentle as possible but warned that I would not like it. I didn’t.

I suppose the easiest measurement was my mouth. She inserted a hard rubber cone between my teeth until my jaw was aching and I was groaning loudly. She apologized for the discomfort and promised it would only take a second to measure me. The cone had ridges every half-inch and she noted the ridge that was used. Then she took more pictures in profile of my face through the grid from both sides before removing the device. Finally she used small calipers to measure the length of each of my teeth.

The lower orifices were measured as well. I won’t go into as much detail in this regard. She used similar cones and pressed firmly after lubricating me front and back. She was right. I didn’t like it a bit.

That was the end of that session. She told me that I wouldn’t see her again unless my dimensions changed substantially. She also informed me that my first outfits would be delivered to my employer in a week or two. She asked me to thank them for the business. I promised I would.

A week later the couple visited me again, this time with a contract. The position read ‘Executive Assistant Level II’ and the salary was listed as $1,000,000 upon completion of a year of service. Further details indicated that I was to be paid $5000 in advance. After thirty days if either my employer or myself terminated my services I would receive severance pay in the amount of $10,000. All fines and penalties would only apply if I completed the full year of service.

The cost of the penalties was not listed on the contract but they informed me that every refusal would cost me $10,000. I would be warned once before they deducted the fine. In addition I would experience physical punishment for refusal to submit to their orders. "Pain?" I asked. The told me that if they couldn’t get pleasure from me one way then they’d get it another way. Pain was an option. So was the act of using exceptionally severe bondage methods.

Still, I thought about that million bucks. "Was I that greedy?" I asked myself. I didn’t have to answer that question. I just reached for the pen and signed. That was my answer.

A few days later Marie visited me in the late afternoon at my apartment. She had brought a brown bag filled with fruits and vegetables.  I thanked her for the effort but she told me these were for something special. I was curious.

"You already indicated that you never had oral sex, right?" she asked as she unloaded the various items onto the counter.

I sheepishly told her she was correct. I never did this with a man or a woman.

"For the kind of money we’re paying we expect it to be done on command. You do understand that, don’t you?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well, these fruits and vegetables will help you learn. We’ll start with the pear. I want you to watch carefully so you can practice while I’m not here. Now I cut the pear lengthwise then coat it with honey and salt. It isn’t the same thing but it will get you used to the idea of licking salty things. Later we’ll do the same thing with a rare piece of steak. Now get on your knees and lick the pear. Try and imagine that it’s me."

I looked at her in disbelief as I took the pear and dropped to my knees. The taste was strange since the pear was heavily salted. I hardly tasted the sweetness of the honey. Marie made me do it five times more until she was completely satisfied that I was comfortable with the strange act.

Next she had me watch as she bored out a tiny butternut squash with a long drill bit. I kind of knew what was coming since the shape and diameter of the stem was roughly the size of a man’s cock. She took a half cup of skim milk and thinned it with water. Then she added some cornstarch and nearly a quarter cup of salt to it. After warming it in the microwave for a few seconds she began stirring. As it cooled it thickened. She finished the process by putting the mixture in the freezer for a minute or two. When it came out it looked like slime. Then she took a cooking syringe and injected half of it into the squash.

"Get on your knees again," she ordered.

When I did she told me to open wide and stick out my tongue. She informed me that her husband liked to see his slave in a submissive pose before partaking. I was to make every effort to keep the tip of my tongue beyond my lips when performing the act. "It’s a difficult way to do this but it’s how my husband likes it. Oh, by the way. This stuff doesn’t really taste exactly like his juices. But it is salty and it is a bit thick. I want you to get acclimated to the feel of it more than the taste," she told me as she held the squash to my lips. I didn’t like the taste at all but she said I needed to get used to it as she had said. I repeated the process once and used up the remaining mixture.

She left me with enough materials to last for a week. In that time I was expected to practice and become accustomed to oral sex. Marie told me to always do this on my knees because that was the way I would do the real thing. She reminded me to try and use my imagination and think of it as real. "Remember," she said, "When you get to Nevada you’ll be expected to do these things on command and without hesitation. Our tolerance will be very limited. We’re paying you far too well to expect otherwise."

Marie visited me three days later and approved of my demonstration. I still wasn’t comfortable with the acts I was forced to perform but I was getting more accustomed to it. A week later when she visited again I had no problem sucking on the squash for her or licking the pear. Since I was doing these exercises several times a day they were no longer major distractions. I wondered how I’d feel two weeks from now when I had to do it for real.

It was now time for my visit to the tattoo artist. I was ordered to visit a woman in Brooklyn and I was told to take the day off. This wasn’t a big deal now since Fred had found my replacement, a tall redhead named Susanne. I had a feeling I’d be seeing her in Nevada before long.

Anyway, the artist was a small oriental woman named Luanne. She was very funny and joked about her lack of height often. She was hardly five feet tall.

She had three tasks. First she needed to shave and depilate my entire body from neck down. After having me strip naked and lie on a plastic sheet the shaving was done with a special electric razor. The depilating cream actually felt cool, even when she applied it to my underarms and crotch. After I was toweled down, she applied a neutralizer, a soft pink cream that stopped the process and prevented irritation. She informed me that this treatment was extremely harsh and only needed two sessions as opposed to the normal six. A week later I’d have to come back for a repeat session. I could expect no hair to grow below my neck for a number of years after that.

Next she needed to give me a small identifying tattoo. It was placed under each breast and depicted a pair of slave girls kneeling and facing each other with arms splayed beside them. She did them in shades of gold and silver ink. She said it was a special process that she had developed herself. They looked almost embossed.

Finally it was time for my piercings. The first was the worst, my tongue. There were three holes that needed to be placed. She first had me stick out my tongue as she coated it with a white paste. Soon my tongue went numb. Then she placed a metal plate over my lips to hold my mouth open. "You OK?" she asked. I nodded.

"I have three holes to make. I’ll then install these stainless grommets. It won’t hurt, I promise."

She placed a metal template on my tongue which had two small pins in it. I didn’t feel the pins go into my tongue but it was quite uncomfortable to hold my mouth open like this with my tongue extended. When she was happy with the arrangement she used a special tool which followed the hole in the template. It bored through my tongue, inserted the grommet from the top and pressed the mating piece up from underneath. Then it heated the entire assembly to cauterize the wound. Each grommet was coated with a thick healing cream which softened when it was heated. The hole ended up being 1/8 inch in diameter but the grommet was three times that size. It would not come out without special tools. The other two grommets were installed in like manner, giving me one on each side of my tongue and one at the tip. I was very happy to get these gadgets out of my mouth.

She was far from finished however. "Tilt your head back, Honey," she ordered politely. She inspected my nose carefully with a small flashlight before applying more of that numbing cream. The tool previously used had interchangeable heads. This new head was elongated and curved to get well up into my nose. I felt the jaws snap and I jerked even though I didn’t feel any pain. I now had a grommet in my nose.

A similar process was performed on my ears with slightly smaller inserts. Two holes were placed in each ear, one in the lobe and one in the upper rear. She also pierced my breasts and my clit using short stainless tubes to connect the metal grommets. These tubes were spring loaded to keep them pulled firmly against my skin. Finally she placed four grommets in each nether lip.

She told me to roll over for my rear grommets. "Excuse me?" I asked. She told me that she needed to install special studs in my rear near my anus to hold in a butt plug. I questioned her on this but she said she was going to be exceptionally careful when she did this and that every other slave of my owner has this procedure done. I rolled over and closed my eyes. For a million bucks? Sure!

She was extremely careful about this operation. She sterilized the area with a special cream. Then she spread my cheeks and applied a UV lamp for a full two minutes to kill any remaining bacteria. She changed rubber gloves while the lamp was applied and washed up for the final act. The device she used more closely resembled a pop-rivet gun and needed to be operated manually. The rivet itself resembled a small half inch metal ball. There was a breakaway nail inside which would detach when the ball flared to nearly an inch. As part of the same operation, when the handle nearly reached the end of its travel a small gold plate was pressed into place. It snapped over a small rounded post which was sticking through the skin.. A tiny hole was left vertically through the post. A small button was inserted and pressed in place. It both sealed the opening that the nail had occupied and contained the spring loaded device that would hold the fastener that would be inserted at a later time. She repeated the process three more times. When she was finished I had four small gold buttons surrounding my anus.

She was finished at last. I had so many holes in me I thought I’d spring a leak whenever I drank something. She gave me a pair of emerald earrings and told me to insert them. They were real emeralds too! She also gave me a can of spray, which I had to apply several times a day to fight off infection and promote healing. I even had to spray it in my mouth. It tasted terrible.

A week later I returned. Marie met me at the parlor. She wanted to see how my rings looked. Luanne checked all the grommets and found them all virtually healed, including the ones in my ass. She then produced a set of gold rings which she clipped to my breasts, clit and sex. She produced a larger ring and inserted it into my nose. Finally she had me open my mouth and stick out my tongue. She didn’t do anything with these grommets though. Marie said that would come next week when we left for Nevada.

The rings were all removed. Marie said that there were a number of ways to use the grommets and that placing rings into them was only one use for them. She didn’t go into details. She didn’t want to spoil the surprise I guessed.

The only items left on the agenda were the moving arrangements. Marie told me that I should pack only the valuable or fragile stuff. A specially trained moving crew would take care of the mundane task of packing.

Marie also provided me with a thousand dollars in cash to take care of any lease discrepancies. I had already given notice and told my neighbors that I was moving out west. Marie and Paul constantly reminded me to tell people so that no one would think I had disappeared unexpectedly.

Chapter 3: Moving Day

Casey:

It had been six weeks since I had met these strange people. Now all the preliminary stuff was at an end. By the end of the day I’d be in Nevada, on my way to earning a million bucks. A year from now I’d have that million bucks and I’d be able to live happily ever after. I liked happy endings.

Marie called me late last night and gave me my final instructions. She told me to remove everything from the bathroom that I wanted to be packed and shipped with the rest of my possessions. She told me to be thorough because the moving people would not enter the bathroom at all. Next she told me at six a.m. I was to shower and throw the towels outside the bathroom. I was to remain naked and leave a sign on the bathroom door that said ‘Do not enter’. She told me to carefully check my body for jewelry. She wanted to take me and me alone. Her exact words were, "I don’t want to even see a bobby pin on your person, clear?"

I responded, "Yes, ma’am."

It was now 9 a.m. They had been packing and moving furniture for nearly two hours as best as I could guess. I sat naked on the toilet, waiting for someone to come and get me. A half hour more passed when things suddenly got quiet. Ten minutes later I heard a knock on the door and Marie’s voice calling. She opened the door as I rose. Paul, her husband, was standing behind her.

The door to the apartment had been closed and locked. I was ordered out into the now empty apartment. I heard my own feet slap on the wooden floor as I walked.

Marie had brought a suitcase with various articles of clothing for me. She first produced a metal dildo with a flat plate on the end. It had a green plastic lens on the front and metal studs around the edge. "Hold still, Honey," she ordered as she knelt between my legs and inserted the device. She pulled the grommets over the eight small posts. Then she placed an oval mating piece over the posts and threaded a small white pearl onto each.

Next she inserted a silver ring into the grommet of my clit. It hurt and I yelped but she calmed me with soothing words. A small plate was swung up from the dildo. When she was able to get the ring to protrude through the slot provided, she produced a small padlock and fastened the dildo to my clit.

"This is a following dildo," she explained. Once it’s armed you have to follow the person who holds the transmitter very closely. If you get beyond six feet from the transmitter it will begin buzzing. If you get beyond eight feet it will shock you. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then let’s get you dressed and made up. We have a long day ahead of us."

She produced a makeup case and told me to go back into the bathroom and fix my face. Those were her exact words. The lipstick was deep red and the rouge was awfully bright but I did as I was told. Still, it made me look like a hooker and I didn’t like that at all.

When I returned Marie said, "Good enough for starters. We’ll work on your technique later."

She next produced a pair of knee length leather boots and told me to put them on. They were zippered and went on quickly. They had six inch heels but fit perfectly. I never wore such high heels before and I expected my toes to begin hurting immediately. But the boots felt pretty good, perhaps a little stiff, but not bad. When she produced the pink silk blouse and the leather skirt I knew where she was heading. She was dressing me to look like the other girls she had brought to New York several weeks ago. Again, everything fit perfectly.

The black leather skirt sported wide pockets on both sides and was fairly long, going just beyond my knees. Inside the each pocket was a gold chain with a small padlock attached. I now fully understood how the girls were bound. Marie took a gold bracelet and wrapped it around my right wrist. Then she pulled the chain out and closed the lock. I couldn’t pull my right hand out of the pocket.

Next came the handbag. When she draped it over my left shoulder I was surprised at how heavy it was. She informed me that the batteries were inside. The chain in the left pocket connected to the bag and would be hidden between the bag and my body. Another gold bracelet was produced and connected to a third gold chain that emerged from the bag. Finally she clipped the shoulder strap to my blouse with a nearly invisible pin hidden under the strap.

"You OK?" she asked.

I nodded and said yes.

"Good. Time to shut you up." She returned to the nearly empty suitcase and produced a clear bag with a round piece of leather. When she showed it to me more closely it resembled a small triangular leather pouch. This was my gag. It was small and thin, designed to be worn without anyone noticing. The leather was wrapped around a small metal frame. In the back was a hole for me to insert my tongue. Once in place it would lay a pad of leather over my tongue from the back of my throat to the tip of my tongue, fitting comfortable behind my teeth. My mouth would hardly bulge from the device but I would be completely unable to make intelligible sounds.

Marie held the device in front of my mouth and told me to open wide. As I inserted my tongue into the gag I could feel small buttons inside where the grommets were supposed to grab. When Marie was satisfied she produced a small hex wrench and secured the device. Even if my hands were free I couldn’t remove the gag without the wrench.

When I pulled the gag back into my mouth I realized how effective it was. I was forced to curl my tongue upwards and touch the room of my mouth. The gag pad filled the remaining cavity when I pressed my lips together. I had a hard time finding a comfortable position but eventually I got used to it.

"Smile, Sweetheart," Paul ordered.

I tried as best I could.

"She’ll get used to it in a few hours," Marie said.

Marie fixed my hair by pulling it into a ponytail to keep it out of my eyes. She used a two inch wide gold band to hold it in place. I had no use of my hands so something had to be done in this regard. At the same time, Paul produced a black choker with a gold button on it. Sex slaves wore gold buttons. Bondage slaves wore silver.

There was one last task. Marie picked up her own handbag and produced a small electronic device. She had to first start the transmitter before she started the receiver. A wire was threaded from the inside of my bag through a hole in my left pocket and connected to the dildo. "I think we’re all set. Stay close, dear."

Paul retrieved the now empty suitcase and opened the door. As Marie moved, I followed closely. I didn’t realize how close I’d have to stay. I had to concentrate on walking in the new heels. I was unsure of my step and couldn’t walk as quickly as Marie. I paid for that with a low frequency buzzing of my crotch and clit. It wasn’t pleasant or sexual. It was just annoying. It forced me to pick up the pace.

The limo waited downstairs. A tall female chauffer stood silently, waiting for us to climb in. I sat in the only rear-facing seat surrounded by a bar and a TV. My owners sat opposite me. They made sure I was buckled in. Then they poured themselves drinks and just smiled at me.

It was a long drive. They were going to use their own private airstrip in the country. It was a three-hour drive and I couldn’t move or say anything during that entire time. The worst part about the trip was the gag. My mouth was gathering saliva and I had to concentrate otherwise I’d end up drooling. It was just one more thing I had to get used to.

We finally arrived at their east coast estate. It was so big they had to drive three miles from the gate before they arrived at the mansion. As I exited the limo Marie said not one word to me. She simply walked to the house. I not only got buzzed but I got a quick shock and yelped as I failed to pay attention to her. I quickened my steps and ran toward her. I didn’t even have a chance to look around.

A tall man in white pants and shirt waited for us at the door. "Phillip," she said. "So good to see you again. Is everything ready?"

"Yes, Ma’am. The plane is fueled and ready whenever you are. You need to be airborne no later than five though."

"Shouldn’t be a problem. Oh, dear, you can drop to your right knee now. Whenever we’re on our own private property you should do that. Whenever I stop walking, just count to five and then drop down."

I immediately followed her orders. "First day," I heard her explain.

"Shall I get her ready?" Phillip asked her.

"Yes, I need to freshen up anyway. Here’s her box," she said as she handed the transmitter to Phillip.

"Up," he said and I rose.

I followed him down the hall and to the left. We continued for some distance. He talked to me as he walked but never looked back at me. "Follow me behind my left shoulder. When I stop, count to five and drop to your right knee. Always drop to your right knee."

I grunted a reply. He told me to remain silent. Gagged slaves don’t make a sound unless it’s absolutely involuntary. He told me to get used to being gagged, especially during the first three months.

We entered a room with a number of leather items laid out. He stopped moving. I counted to five and knelt. "You’re very nice," he said as he lifted my chin.

"Open," he ordered.

I thought he was going to remove my gag but instead he just inspected the fit. He had me close my mouth and I was disappointed that he hadn’t removed this horrible sack of leather. I was not disappointed though when he opened my bag and turned off the dildo.

Working on me while I knelt would have been inconvenient for him so he told me to stand. He disconnected my wrists and removed the bracelets. Then he removed the bag and the skirt, throwing them in a heap on the floor. Eventually he had me stripped of everything except the dildo, my gag and the gold band that held my hair in place.

"Come with me," he ordered.

I followed him into a large bathroom. The details of what he did next to me are not something to be discussed in public. I will just leave it with the fact that I was clean, front and back. At least it gave me a chance to use the bathroom.

Phillip inserted a new dildo in my sex and fastened it in place. In my rear he inserted a well-greased ribbed plug, which was held in place with four special clips. Next he wrapped a leather vest around me. It had rubber-lined holes for my breasts with gold studs around them. It hugged my hips perfectly even though there was no lacing. When he pulled the zipper up to the top he snapped a metal fitting into it, thus locking it in place.

"Lift your chin a little so I can get the collar nice and tight," he said as he wrapped the four-inch wide leather strap around my neck. Again it fit perfectly. It had no buckles. The edges met at the back of my neck and snapped together. Once that was done, I couldn’t turn my head sideways.

Hip boots were next. They were black leather with zippers on the inseam rather than running up to the hip. The cut was diagonal and followed the vee of my crotch, leaving my sex exposed but covering my hips up to my waist. The top edge was secured with snaps and buckles that connected to the bottom of the vest. I again wore six-inch heels.

I was expecting gloves next but instead he produced a strange bag. It looked like a leather suitcase but I soon discovered it was more bondage gear when he had it unzipped. Inside, sewn to the edges were the gloves I had expected to wear. Only the upper arms were sewn to the bag. He held it behind me and told me to insert my hands into the gloves while keeping my arms pointing straight down. As my hands went in, he pulled the bag up until the top edge was even with my shoulders. At that point he pulled two straps thorough slots in the bag and clipped them to my upper arms, thus preventing the bag from slipping down. He forced me to fold my arms behind my back and proceeded to strap my arms together forcing fingertips to elbows. He next placed a small battery inside a pocket between my shoulder blades, feeding the wire down to my rear. Finally he lifted the lower portion of the bag and covered my arms with it. Zippers on either side secured everything. These zippers had self-contained locks too of course.

It was now time for the headgear. I hadn’t figured that they could do much worse to me at this point but I was wrong. The gag he was using, he explained, was a very comfortable gag that was used mainly in public. My owners preferred something much more severe.

After he removed the gag from my mouth he allowed me the luxury of drinking a cool glass of water. Afterwards he produced a new gag, something much more severe and much wider. It was bright red and wedge shaped. In the center was a wide rubber lined slot for my tongue. But before inserting it, he placed a ring through the grommet in the tip of my tongue and attached a short chain to it. I allowed all this because I hadn’t figured out exactly how the gag was supposed to fit in my mouth. Now I knew. He pulled the chain through the slot and ran the gag right up to my mouth. I was already so disoriented from all the bondage that I just opened my mouth and inserted my tongue through the slot. I discovered that the back and sides of the gag were soft but the areas where my teeth were supposed to slip into were not. I could feel the rubber pressing against my cheeks and the back of my mouth as my teeth climbed the rubber wedge. Eventually they slipped into grooves and my mouth was effectively plugged with my tongue sticking out through a rubber-lined slot.

"I’m sure you won’t like this gag," he said as he proceeded to squeeze my cheeks and feel for the fullness in my mouth. "None of the girls do."

He checked the fit carefully, peeling back my lips and verifying that my teeth were seated firmly. But he wasn’t through tormenting me. He was far from done with my head. For next he produced that strange little wrench. He teased my tongue farther out of its slot until he was sure the grommets inside were properly positioned. Then he tightened the screws hidden near the corners of my mouth and drove the pins inside the gag down through the holes. With the pins secured the gag wasn’t coming out any time soon. Furthermore, my tongue was under a constant strain from the two pins that pulled on it. Finally, as one last bit of tongue torture, he removed the ring and covered the tip of my tongue with a small gold cone. This was secured from underneath with a screw. There was a gold ring with a six-foot leash attached to it. He was going to lead my by my tongue!

He told me we were almost done. First he draped a series of leather strap over my head and attached it to the collar. Then he inserted one inch diameter rings in my nose and ear lobes. He used a special tool to expand the gap. When he released them the gap disappeared and the ends fit together. The nose ring hung on my upper lip. He clipped thin gold chains from my ears to the nose ring and allowed them to drape across my cheeks under my eyes. Then he had to connect the wires from my battery pack to the dildo and put my skirt back on. Once this one done he told me to stay close. This time I really didn’t have any choice since I had a leash attached to my tongue.

"Heel," he said. I followed him out to a golf cart. He buckled me into the passenger seat and drove me out to the plane.

Marie and Paul were waiting. I sure presented a strange picture. They seemed extremely impressed, especially Marie. Paul enjoyed the view for a moment but quickly ran into the plane to arrange for my transportation.

"She’s magnificent," she said to Phillip as she took the leash and the transmitter from him. "Janice did a magnificent job, didn’t she?"

"She always does," Phillip replied.

"Did she give you any trouble?"

"Not a bit. She did exactly as she was told. I think she’s a keeper."

Marie turned her attention to me. "Jaw hurt?" she asked.

I grunted and nodded.

"Grunts mean nothing to me, Honey. You need to keep quiet when you’re gagged, right?" she asked as she tugged at my leash.

I grunted again, this time from the pain of having my tongue stretched.

"Now that was allowed. You’re not supposed to make a single sound when gagged unless you’re in pain. Clear?"

I nodded silently.

"Better. I know you don’t like this but this is pretty standard stuff for us. Don’t worry. The pain in your jaw will disappear in an hour or two. Certainly you’ll feel better by the time we land. Now, the big question is, ‘When I take the gag out, will you let me put it back in?’"

I wanted to shake my head and answer no but after a moment’s hesitation I nodded instead. I knew where she was coming from. Was I committed enough to let them do this kind of stuff to me? The answer was a reluctant ‘Yes’.

"You sure?" she asked.

Again I nodded. I wanted to survive so bad that they could do nothing to discourage me. I don’t know why. To be truthful it wasn’t the money and it certainly wasn’t any sort of sexual excitement. I suppose it was the challenge. I intended to go the distance. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Push me and I push back.

There was more to it than that though. I made a promise. I signed a contract and I had an almost religious belief that a promise was a promise. I swore to be their slave for a year in return for that check. I intended to keep that promise regardless of how much I had to suffer. I knew everything before I put my name on that paper. Certainly I never realized how extreme or uncomfortable the bondage would be. I certainly never expected to have my mouth stuffed to this degree nor my jaw spread this wide. I never expected to be led by a leash attached to my tongue. But I did expect that I’d be gagged and bound. I knew I’d have to suffer quite a bit to earn a million dollars. So I had no right to argue.

I had one duty, to obey. That was my lot in life. I had no one to blame but myself. Yes, I was sure. I was very sure that this was what I wanted. I wanted to be a slave, not for the money, not for the sexual pleasure. I wanted to beat the odds. I wanted to obey them because they had doubts. They didn’t think I could last a year. I could sense it. Maybe they had a lot of women who had already failed. I could understand why! But I intended to prove them wrong. I nodded and stared into Marie’s eyes. Bring it on!

The trip lasted five hours. The advantage of owning your own private jet is that you can fly non-stop to anywhere in the world if you file your flight plan in a timely manner. Paul’s crew had done just that so when we called Kennedy for clearance (we were still in their airspace) it was hardly five minutes before we were able to take off.

Of course I was oblivious to all the details of our flight. I was forced to sit in a special seat for the duration. It had many straps to secure me. That I expected. But it also had a recess in the seat and in the back to accommodate my butt plug and my arm bag. It was actually much more comfortable than I imagined.

Believe it or not, I actually was able to sleep during the flight, at least for an hour or two. Marie checked me often. She was concerned about the gag and my tongue. She peeled back my lips and checked for good circulation. She massaged my jaw and felt my cheeks. She even checked my protruding tongue, going so far as to squeeze and prod it to make sure it was healthy too.

Finally we arrived in Nevada. Marie informed me that the property was nearly twenty miles square. The airstrip was on the eastern portion of the property and the mansion was not visible from where we stood. A limo was waiting for us. Again they had me seated facing the rear, buckled firmly into the seat as I stared at my owners. It took nearly thirty minutes of driving on dusty roads before we arrived at the three story building. We were home.

Upon exiting the limo, I could see five separate structures arranged in a horseshoe arrangement. All but one, the main building, were two-storied. That one towered above the rest and dominates the property. All were connected by long, glass-enclosed walkways which curved away from us. I couldn’t see past the buildings but it was apparent that there was some sort of courtyard behind them.

The main building was three stories tall with an adobe roof. It was exceptionally large, at least a hundred feet wide. The adjacent buildings were cylindrical with the nearer buildings constructed with five foot high brick walls topped with two bands of large tinted windows. There were few supporting pillars. These buildings were huge, perhaps a hundred feet across and forty feet high.

The buildings at the far ends were hardly visible. They were similar to the nearer buildings but much smaller. The windows were much smaller as well and there were less of them. Also, there were cars parked near these end buildings in clearly defined spaces.

Being led by a tongue leash is not the nicest way to follow someone. It’s painful and it’s demeaning. Not that having your tits hanging out, being forced to wear a weird straightjacket and having both your lower openings plugged with steel are much better conditions. But I endured. I don’t know how though.

We approached the main building, a three-story mansion of obvious Southwestern architecture. The roof was a bright orange adobe and the walls were made of multicolor stucco. The windows were all lightly tinted. Some were stained glass. Wide glass panels of glass block flanked the door itself.

Marie continued to lead me, even though she had armed the dildo. I couldn’t really understand why she needed to hold onto the leash since she knew I wouldn’t move more than a few feet from her left shoulder. She knew the consequences should I stray. Maybe she just wanted the feeling of total control. Perhaps it was some sort of sexual turn-on.

All I knew was that I had no choice but to follow her. I couldn’t resist with a chain pulling on my tongue. Every tug was painful, although not nearly as painful as I thought it would be. Apparently the hole had healed quite nicely in the past week.

As we entered servants flocked to Marie’s aid. Several males, all dressed in white, greeted her before passing us to unload the luggage from the limo. One tall man came forward and gave Marie a huge hug. On the right side of his shirt was a nametag. This was Hugo, her chief of staff.

"So, is this the new piece?" he asked.

"Pretty, isn’t she? She needs lots of training. Can’t even remember to kneel when she’s supposed to," Marie noted sardonically. I took the hint and knelt on my right knee. Neither Marie nor Hugo praised me for my act. They simply remained silent as if it was expected. I suppose it was.

"Did she go for the whole enchilada?" Hugo asked.

"Yup. She spotted those six zeros and that was that."

"Greed is good," Hugo stated with a smile.

"So I’ve heard. Anyway, I’ve got to get out of these clothes and get a shower. Take her to her room and prepare her as we discussed. I’ll give her the fifty-cent tour at six. I’ll pass the word to have the staff assemble in the parlor for the usual introductions. Three hours should be plenty for you, right?"

"No problem. How many calories do you want to allow?" Hugo asked. Calories?

"Paul? You’re the one with the medical degree. What do you think?" Marie asked.

"No more than two thousand. Her hips are a little wider than I’d like. I want those thighs a lot trimmer than they are now. That will come down with the morning training of course. But I think 1200 will work well for starters. Use an MRE." 

"Will do. Come along," he said as he grabbed the leash and transmitter from Marie.

Chapter 4: First Day on the Job

I followed Hugo through the main building until we reached the glass passageway that led to the east wing. The next building was bare except for the previously noted windows that encircled the building, several stone pillars, and a centrally located spiral ramp that led to the second floor. We ascended the ramp. In the heels I expected the climb to be difficult but the ramp was sloped gently, actually forming an oval shape with three flights. They even coated the ramp with an anti-slip surface, probably anticipating the need to climb in skyscraper heels.

When we arrived at the second floor I discovered eight archways with no doors to be found. Six rooms were numbered. A seventh room was labeled ‘equipment’ and an eighth was labeled ‘Office/Lobby’. I was taken to room number five.

Upon entering the room I discovered it had a short wall directly in front of the doorway allowing a small amount of privacy. Conversations could easily be heard but there was no direct line of sight from the central lobby to the chamber.

Inside I found the room was huge, perhaps forty feet wide at the windows and fifteen feet wide at the doorway. It was wedge-shaped, of course since the building was cylindrical. Windows lined the outside wall while louvered shades prevented the sunlight from turning the room into an oven.

In addition to the large bed that dominated the windowed wall I found the room to be exceptionally well furnished. The Simmons obviously wanted their slaves to feel at home so they provided each room with a sixty-inch television, a home entertainment system with cd changer, dvd and vcr. In addition there was a bar, a full sized refrigerator, a sink, and a small two-burner cook top.

Hugo also showed me the bathroom, the general storage closet, the pantry, and finally the walk-in closet where all my outfits were stored. This closet was L-shaped, running behind the bathroom and pantry. Inside I found some of the kinkiest outfits I had ever seen as well as a large stock of traditional but elegant dresses and suits. The very end of the closet was devoted to footwear and was stocked with every variety of high heeled boots, mules, and pumps I could imagine. There were no short heels in this collection, certainly none less than four inches. I could see they intended to keep me on my toes, literally!

Hugo took me back into the bedroom and proceeded to unbind me. He even removed my gag, pulling on my tongue while loosening the screws. He told me to pull my tongue back as he squeezed and prodded the device. Eventually it emerged with a loud pop. I moaned loudly from the pain as my jaws revolted from being bound for so long. In short order he had also removed my arm binder as well as the boots. I took the opportunity to rub some feeling into my jaw. Hugo helped by massaging my shoulders for a minute or two. Eventually he had me stripped naked except for the ring in my nose and the chains running to my ears. He left these in place and told me to shower.

After being bound and gagged for half the day the warm water felt like heaven against my aching muscles. The warmth and the isolation also gave me time to think about my situation. Every nerve in my body told me to get away, to quit. Common sense told me that this situation was far beyond my ability to cope and I’d end up an insane bondage freak by the end of my stay. But I thought about that money. I realized I was touching myself while I remembered the day’s events. I kept telling myself I didn’t want to do this. But it was all a great big lie. I knew it was a lie. My entire body betrayed me. I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off as previously instructed, and walked into the bedroom to await my fate. I did this freely. I had no intention of doing otherwise. Greed is good!

I suppose I could make the story interesting by claiming that Hugo made me eat something strange for dinner. Instead he simply led me to a small table along the wall, allowed me to sit, and then produced a cold aluminum foil covered tray from the refrigerator. I did notice that he needed a key to open the fridge. That could be troublesome if I got hungry at some inopportune time.

Anyway, I found the meal to be relatively ordinary, consisting of a thick slice of turkey breast, a cup of applesauce, a roll accompanied by a plastic wrapped pat of butter, and a blueberry muffin. There was no microwave or other cooking appliance in the room except for the burners so I had to eat it cold. It didn’t take long and I didn’t care for it very much. I was told to wash it down with as much water as I wished to drink. Then Hugo told me to go to the bathroom, relieve myself, and brush my teeth thoroughly. I felt exceptionally embarrassed by the fact that he supervised me throughout the process.

"You’ve done well so far," Hugo addressed me as he pointed to the bed. I feared being raped by the huge brute. Instead he just told me to sit. He seated himself on a chair nearby and told me I could talk freely for the time being.

"I’m trying," I responded.

"It’s a little rough on the first day. You don’t seem flustered or in tears. That’s a good sign. Things are going to get worse though," he warned.

"I understand. I’ll be fine."

"I’m sure you will. You’ve got an hour to yourself. I’m going to leave you until 5:30. Then I’ll be back to get you ready for Marie."

"Is that when it gets rough?"

"No. You’ll find that the rough part comes later."

"You mean the oral sex, right?" My face betrayed my fear.

"You’ve never done this before, have you?"

"I’m not a virgin," I argued.

"When was the last time you sucked a man’s cock or licked a woman’s pussy?" he asked.

I found the language shocking and it startled me. Hugo could see it. "Well, I guess I am in that regard," I confessed. "I’ll be fine though."

"We’ll make sure of that by binding you in a way to prevent your refusal. Can you deal with that?"

That wasn’t a shock to me but it was a reminder of Marie’s warning a few weeks ago. She told me that whenever I had sex with them I would be bound just as Hugo had described. Technically it was rape and it wasn’t a fun prospect. For one million dollars my mouth was to become a sexual orifice. It was a disgusting thought and I hated the notion. But Marie had talked to me in that soft voice, her captivating green eyes drawing me to her. "Promise me you’ll try as hard as you can," she asked. I swore I would make them happy, both of them. And I never, ever broke a promise.

"Hugo?"

"Yes?"

"I want to tell you something. I promised Marie and Paul that I’d finish this thing and stay the year. I swore to them I’d follow their orders to the letter and I swore I’d make them happy with my performance. I know it’s going to be rough but I don’t care. I promised them and that’s something that’s important to me. Understand something. I never break a promise. I don’t care if it’s large, small, or in between. My word is my word."

I looked at him with the most serious face I could muster. It hid one that was scared to death. But he bought it. Maybe my speech bolstered my confidence a bit. When he rose, so did I. I didn’t intend to smile but smiles are contagious. Soon I had my arms around his neck, lifting my lips to his. Oh, it was only a little peck but it felt good. I think he liked it too.

"Feel free to look around but don’t put anything on. You must stay naked. But do look through the outfits and the bondage gear so you can get accustomed to the sight of it all. And please don’t leave the room."

"I’ll be fine," I said. I noticed that I was beginning to repeat myself.

After he left I was torn between exploring my new environment and falling flat on my back and slipping into a deep slumber. My curiosity got the better of me. I went into the closet and began examining the gear. I had never seen bondage gear before today, at least not in person. I had visited a number of kinky sites on the web from my home but I had never had the opportunity to use any of this stuff. In a sense it was both frightening and exciting.

I discovered a complete assortment of leather, pvc, and rubber. Most of the gear was leather. Anything that could be hung on hangers was. Anything too small was placed in small wooden cubicles. Anything that needed to be kept sanitary was heat sealed in labeled plastic bags. All the boots were placed inverted on poles and the shoes were all placed on racks. Every item of clothing, footwear, or bondage gear was precisely placed in a specific spot. Nothing was tossed on the floor. Nothing lay on its side. Every drawer was neatly arranged. It was as if a clean freak had gotten their run of the place.

I returned to the main room and boldly strode to the window. I assumed there would be little to look at but desert. I was wrong. My room faced the rear of the complex. From my second story window I could see four diamond shaped courtyards surrounded by long paved walkways extending some two hundred yards. Palm trees lined each path and grass filled each field. It almost looked like several baseball diamonds with the main building at home plate of the largest field. It seemed quite strange to find grass in the desert.

I was startled by a tall woman who entered the room while my back was turned. "Hi," she said, "I’m Teresa."

Teresa was a young brunette with long flowing hair. She wore a pair of white pants with a black shirt. Around her neck she wore a tight black leather collar. I noticed her lips and eyes were heavily made up. The lipstick was relatively dark and the eye shadow was overdone.

"I’m here to clean things up. Don’t mind me," she said as she began gathering the clothes that were piled on the floor. In a second she disappeared into the closet. A moment later she returned carrying another arm full of leather gear which she laid carefully on a nearby table.

"I brought you a clean gag," she said holding up a sealed black plastic bag. "Don’t open it until Hugo comes back. And don’t do anything stupid with it like trying to hide it. They’ll only punish you for it and charge you ten grand. Besides, they’ll force you to wear a generic gag that’s not nearly as comfortable."

"You been here long, Teresa?" I asked.

"Four years."

"Ever do anything like this?" I asked waving my arms at myself.

"No, not here. Used to visit the bondage clubs in San Fran when I was twenty. Ran into a couple friends of Marie and Paul. They had this thing going and I was single and needing money. I’ve been here ever since."

"Then you like it here?"

"I wouldn’t stay if I didn’t. Besides, I don’t really have any skills that would pay well. Here, I make a hundred grand a year for cleaning a few bathrooms and picking up after a few people. You’re new to this, aren’t you?"

"Yes."

"Hugo told me that you’re pretty green. He’s worried about you. Then again, he worries about all the new girls. We have a horrible turnover rate."

"I won’t quit," I said.

"Most girls say that on the first day. It’s the first night that’s rough."

"You mean the sex stuff?"

"That’s part of it. You know why they want to have sex with you?"

"I can guess. The usual reasons come to mind."

"That’s not the reason. They use sex as a domination tool. That’s how they get sexual pleasure. Hugo is gay. Did you know that?"

"He didn’t act gay when I kissed him."

Teresa laughed. "He was humoring you. Did he make you put your head between his knees yet?"

"If he’s gay, why would he want me to do that?"

"He gets pleasure by dominating people. They all do. When he forces you to open your mouth for him, that’s power. Power is pleasure. Oh sure, he’ll react physically but the real fun for him comes from the control he has over you. The same rules apply to Paul and Marie although to a lesser extent. They do enjoy the physical reaction. You understand now? That’s why there’s a lot more bondage than sex here. Clear?

Now things were becoming much clearer. The collar, leash, and piercings were all meant to control me, not just to make me look kinky. They wanted to make me do things they wanted, probably hoping that I would refuse so they could punish me.

"How many girls are here doing this," I asked.

"They hire six bondage slaves and six sex slaves. There’s five, including yourself on this side. I hear there’s a redhead coming in four weeks from now. The bondage side is full. They don’t have as much trouble holding onto their girls."

"The new girl is probably Karen. She’s the one who replaced me in New York."

"I don’t think so. This one’s coming from Seattle. That would make a full herd of six."

"Herd?" I asked.

"They did tell you about the ponygirl stuff, didn’t they?"

"They mentioned something about harnesses and bits. I didn’t understand. You telling me that I have to be a horse?" I asked.

"For part of each day. It’s their main method of exercise. That’s how they’ll get you down to the weight they prefer."

"It’s just more kinky gear. I’m not worried."

Teresa looked at the clock suddenly. "Look, why don’t you catch some shuteye and I’ll finish up my stuff. I’d love to chat some more but I have a lot of work to do."

While I laid back on the bed and rested, Teresa proceeded to clean the bathroom, clean the nook where I ate, and dust the furniture. I was oblivious to it all. I was so tired that I simply nodded off.

Chapter 5: The Fifty Cent Tour

I must have nodded off. I felt a hand on my shoulder. As I opened my eyes I found Hugo’s huge grin to be a welcome sight.

"Enjoy your nap?" Hugo asked.

"Could have used a bit more shuteye. What time is it?" I asked as I stretched and yawned.

"We have an hour to get you ready," he said, ignoring my question. "Go brush your teeth and rinse well. I have to gag you again."

I shook the cobwebs out and trotted naked into the bathroom. Hugo followed. After a thorough wash and rinse of my mouth, Hugo introduced me to the special gear for cleaning out my lower opening. The toilet had a control panel nearby. He told me to press the button labeled ‘Start’. When I did this a thin, lubricated dildo swung up from the toilet. He told me to pull my cheeks apart and sit on it. When I had done so a green light appeared on the panel which said ‘Ready’. Underneath this light was another red button  that said ‘Lock’. Following Hugo’s instructions I pressed this button and immediately felt the dildo expanding. The tip and butt expanded quickly but the body of the device also expanded. This took time, perhaps two minutes. A red LED display counted down as the dildo slowly spread my anus. The panel sounded a beep when it was complete. At this point another green light appeared next to the label ‘Ready to Wash’. When I pressed the associated button the process began.

Hugo said I could watch the process on the red LED display if I wished. I expected a wash and a rinse, perhaps several. I didn’t expect to see the word ‘Pressurize’ though. This was the first process. Compressed air was injected to expand me. Then three sets of washes, soaks, and rinses were performed. The dildo was never released. The unit injected the water and removed it by vacuum. When the process was complete I was exhausted.

Hugo explained that there was no automated system for cleaning my sex. Instead he showed me a closet which had a number of supplies such as towels, makeup items, etc. It also contained a large number of female necessities including douche kits. He handed me three boxes bound together and told me to perform the process three times.

As I sat on the toilet cleansing myself he explained a few things. "First," he said, "You will always address anyone you meet in this household by their first name. As an example, when I tell you to do something you will acknowledge the command by saying ‘Yes, Hugo." Clear?"

"Yes, Hugo," I responded correctly. I had to stifle the giggle. Hugo seemed so serious.

"You will never use the term Mistress or Master. Unlike similar relationships we do not enjoy those titles. Paul absolutely hates to be called ‘Master’ and you will be punished and fined if you do. Marie doesn’t mind the term nearly as much but she is to be addressed by her first name as well. I will introduce you to the staff and other slaves in due time. You will memorize their names and follow their orders. Got it?"

"Yes, Hugo."

"Good. Now, as to what you can expect, Marie has dictated how you are to be presented. When I take you to her you will always be gagged. You will always have your hands bound behind you and you will always have heels on. In addition, you will always have both lower orifices plugged. For the next year these conditions will not change except under the most unusual circumstances. Understood?"

"Yes, Hugo. May I ask a question?"

"Certainly."

"You always talk about Marie. What about Paul?"

"What about him?"

"Doesn’t Paul make any decisions?"

"Rarely. You see, this was mostly Paul’s idea. The only reason Marie agreed to it was because she doesn’t like to be a submissive. She doesn’t like to perform oral sex either. But to accommodate Paul she decided to hire a slave or two for his pleasure. One thing led to another until finally they contacted me. I had this large property and I was in the process of building a large ranch when they came up with the idea of a bondage complex. Since we had both visited the same bondage clubs and knew each other well, we decided to join in this venture."

"So you own everything? I thought Marie and Paul were the owners."

"I own the property. Marie and Paul own the slaves. The million bucks they pay come out of their own pockets. As payment for letting them use the facilities I get to train the ‘pick of the litter’ if you will."

"How far will Paul go with me? He seems pretty nice but I’ve learned that first impressions can be deceiving. Who has final say in what can be done to me?"

"Marie controls all aspects of Paul’s pleasure. Marie will decide when you see Paul, what he can do with you, how he binds you, and anything else that might relate to Paul’s pleasure. Oh, and don’t be fooled. She loves him with all her heart and she trusts him implicitly. But she is charged with his pleasure. That’s why you will only perform oral sex on Paul and your lower openings will always be plugged when you visit him. Anything below the waist is her domain. Understand?"

"Yes, Hugo."

"Good."

After all the business in the bathroom we headed to the large makeup table in the bedroom. Hugo began by removing the chains going from my nose to my earrings. Funny thing is that I had hardly noticed that they were there. He told me he’d put them back on once my makeup was done.

Then Hugo began combing my long blonde hair. He took nearly ten minutes to get it to his liking. As he combed he also applied a fine spray conditioner, which improved its body and fullness. He finished the act by gathering my hair into a ponytail that he secured with a special red leather strap. 

Next he applied dark red lipstick with a small paintbrush. He made up my eyes using a brown tint. I had to apply the mascara myself under his close scrutiny. Finally he dusted my cheeks with a little rouge and examined me.

"Good. Now we just need to let the lipstick cure before we apply the gloss."

"Excuse me?" I asked, not understanding. I never heard of a lipstick that needed to cure.

"Your lipstick is something new. It’s smear-proof. You have to apply the color first. Then after a few minutes it will dull. Then we apply the gloss. When that cures it won’t come off without applying a special cream."

"Oh!" I said. I thought to myself, what a neat feature! Then I realized why and I said, "Oh!" again. They didn’t want to ruin my makeup when they used my mouth!

Eventually the gloss layer dried and I had a smear-proof pair of red lips ready for whatever purpose these people wanted. I had to sit in the chair and pucker up for two minutes after Hugo was done. It felt stupid but Hugo insisted. He wanted the finish to look perfect. It did.

"We’ll have to replace the coating every three days. It will begin to peel after that," he told me.

All this time I had been staring at the plastic bag on the table. It had been sitting right in front of me the entire time. Hugo didn’t pay much attention to it but I did. It held the gag I would wear. I was hoping it was something different than the previous gag. When he opened the bag I was relieved to find it much different than the previous tongue stretcher. Instead it was constructed of a simple ball with black leather straps that would obviously encircle my head. That I could live with.

"I want you to learn how to put this on yourself," he said. "Before long you’ll be expected to do your own makeup and gag."

"You want me to tie myself up?"

"No, I’ll help you with most of the gear. You just have to do the makeup and the gag."

"Even that horrible gag you used on me before?"

"No, that gag I’ll have to help you install."

"I hope I won’t have to wear that one anytime soon. I hated it and it hurt my tongue and jaw."

"Unfortunately that gag is one you’ll have to get used to during the next few months. We use it to stretch your jaw and tongue."

"Why?"

"So you’ll provide better oral sex. We have special gags that require your jaw to be open wider than it does now. The tongue part is for Marie. She wants your tongue to extend from your mouth by another quarter inch. She feels it will allow you to pleasure her better. I tried to tell her a person’s tongue won’t grow from stretching but she likes the control aspect of it. Anyway, time is running short so if you would please put the rubber ball in your mouth I’ll show you how to buckle it."

There were no hasps on the buckles and no obvious way to release them. I also found it strange that there was no apparent way to adjust the straps. Still, I now trusted Hugo so I inserted the ball in my mouth and pulled the straps around my head, following Hugo’s instructions. Hugo informed me that he and Marie had small keys that would unlock the gag. Also, he told me I would never be left alone while gagged, not even for a moment.

Hugo showed me the proper way to arrange the straps before inserting the rubber ball in my mouth. As I examined the straps in front of my face I began to get a feel for how they would encircle my head. I gathered my willpower and opened my mouth wide. The ball barely fit behind my teeth. My tongue was pressed down and backwards as my jaw was stretched by the two inches of shiny red rubber. Hugo guided my fingers to the first straps that he wanted me to connect. These were the side straps that would buckle behind my neck. The clasp connected with a small amount of slack. It had a hinged lever on it. I had to push the tang under a slot near the base of the lever. Then I had to hook it under the lever. When the lever was pressed into place the lock would engage and take up the slack. It would stay that way until a key was inserted.

One by one I buckled the remaining straps around my head. The hardest ones were those behind my ears. Hugo encouraged me but didn’t help. He said I had to learn how to do it myself. The last strap to be connected slipped under my chin and clipped to the harness near my right ear.

I found the harness tight and the ball to be quite uncomfortable. It certainly looked erotic in the mirror. I had seen others bound this way on the net but I had never figured to be a bondage model wearing such a device. Hugo’s words calmed me but I found myself becoming increasingly anxious. I had to force myself to remain calm as he installed the small gold chains that connected my nose ring to my ears. At that point he led me away from the vanity. I had to keep telling myself that they weren’t going to hurt me -- that  I had nothing to fear. But I was still quite nervous.

We entered the closet. While I waited, Hugo picked out the gear I would be wearing. It was apparent to me that he was doing this on the fly. It was also obvious he had done this before. He seemed to know where each item was located since he never had to search amongst the hundreds of items. I was impressed.

He started with a red leather collar that was at least three inches wide. It buckled in back. As before, the collar had no adjustment. It simply fit perfectly around my neck. This collar was extremely thick and had a flared bottom that covered the base of my neck, both front and rear. Once he had it secured I couldn’t move my head from side to side and it kept my chin lifted. It didn’t raise my chin extremely high but I couldn’t see my breasts or my feet without leaning forward at the waist.

In the closet’s mirror I now found that the collar had a single gold loop in the front. This loop was nearly three inches in diameter. It added quite a bit of weight to the collar, which was already quite heavy. It was obvious to me that there was metal between the layers of leather.

Hugo stared at me before deciding on the next item of apparel. It was as if he were dressing me in his mind. I watched as he walked to the far end of the hall and selected a white leather corset. I had seen them in old movies and once in an x-rated flick.

I knew they were tight and they needed to be laced. I also knew they would reshape my body, pulling my waist in and thrusting my breasts and hips out. This one was different. First, it didn’t cover my breasts. That was unusual in itself. What I found truly unusual though was the lack of laces. Instead it had six nylon straps with ratcheted clasps. They reminded me of the hold-down clamps found on luggage racks. These were interspersed with eighteen clasps similar to the ones on my gag. Hugo told me that the ratchet clamps would be removed once the main clips were fastened.

And that’s pretty much the way it went. He wrapped the white leather around my body and had me hold it in place under my breasts while he connected the straps to the ratchets. Slowly he took up the slack as the garment began to hug my body. I was expecting him to say something like, "Suck in your belly," as he tightened the straps. But instead he worked silently, pulling my waist in slowly but surely. As he pulled I tried to adjust to the tight fit. I found myself arching my back and sticking out my rear. I found myself standing straighter too. I could no longer bend at the waist by more than a few degrees.

Eventually the rear edges of the corset had come in contact with each other and Hugo connected all eighteen clasps. At this point he could remove the ratchet devices and close the zipper that would hide all the metal devices. Even this had a mating connector at the end of its travel. I was really locked into this gear well.

The next phase of the operation involved footwear. In this case Hugo seemed to have already decided on a pair of knee high red boots with four inch heels. These heels were wider than the stilettos I had previously worn. They were a little narrower than the standard Cuban heel design, perhaps an inch wide at the tip. I realized that I could probably walk in these for a little longer than the spikes I had worn earlier.

Hugo seemed to enjoy lacing my boots. I was thinking to myself, "If he just wasn’t gay, I’d try and make a pass at him." Then again he seemed to enjoy the act of binding me too much to be totally immune to my charms. I had the feeling that he was unsure of his lifestyle commitment. Maybe Teresa was confused. Maybe he was bisexual. I couldn’t tell. What I could tell is that I was becoming increasingly fond of the big guy. He was handsome. He was nice. And he cared. I just wished I didn’t have this band of leather around my neck so I could get a better look at him.

Hugo walked to a section of the closet that contained a number of hanging leather pieces. I couldn’t tell what they were by their shape. They all appeared to be triangular in shape. Each hung from a metal ring. All had a myriad of straps.

This one was also dyed red to match my collar and boots. When Hugo had me put my arms behind my back I realized it was some sort of arm binding device. It featured many eyelets and a pair of straps. Hugo had me place my palms together as he slipped it up my arms. Inside I found it to be padded with soft fleece which felt very nice on my skin. The wrist area had an elastic band to hold my wrists in the proper location. Hugo had to pull fairly hard to get my hands through. But they fit perfectly just as everything else had.

He loosely connected the straps, threading them under my armpits and over the opposite shoulder. The binder would not come off without help. Next, he pulled the laces tight enough to nearly pull my arms together at the elbows. It forced my chest out and pulled my shoulders back. Now I really had to stand up straight. Hugo continued to adjust the laces and the straps until he was satisfied with the fit. Now I was really his.

I had forgotten about my lower orifices. Hugo apparently had not. He went to a shelf and opened a black box which was illuminated by a pair of green lights on its front. When he pulled out the pair of dildos I was quickly reminded.

"These aren’t nearly as bad as the others. They only buzz and only for a few seconds. They don’t shock. But they last a long time. The front one will last sixteen hours if it isn’t triggered too much. The rear one needs to be replaced every six hours. That works out since you have to be cleaned three times a day anyway. So, let’s get them in and we’ll get rolling."

Each had its own green light. They were glowing steadily. Once Hugo inserted each device into me he secured them with small gold caps which screwed onto the studs. He then turned the light to the right on my vaginal insert and it began slowly blinking. I assumed he did something to the rear device as well. He finished my bondage by taking a gold chain with two inch links and wrapping it around my waist. He secured it at my belly with a padlock then pulled the tag end of the chain through my legs and connected it to the ring on the end of my arm binder. He finished the decoration of my body by clipping several short chains between my bulging breasts, clipping them to the rings hanging from my nipples and allowing them to hang in front of me. As he turned, I was ready to follow. And I did.

As we entered the bedroom Hugo needed to explain some additional rules. "We usually use hand signals to control our slaves," he said. "As we walk watch my right hand. If I want you to kneel on one knee, I’ll put one finger down. If I want you on two knees I’ll use two fingers. Understand?"

I nodded without making a sound.

At that point he put one finger down and I immediately dropped to my right knee.

"Good girl," he praised. "Now the rule is, if you’re following me when I signal, you’ll walk up to my side. Then you’ll drop to your right knee. But I’m facing you I want you to drop where you are standing. Clear?"

Again I nodded silently.

"Excellent. I’ll signal for you to rise by cupping my hand and waving my fingers. If your bondage is severe as it is now, I’ll help you up. Otherwise you’ll be expected to rise on your own. Of course if I start moving without signaling and your plug is armed I expect you to rise on your own. You have all that?"

I nodded again. It was getting complicated but if I used common sense I figured that I could avoid being buzzed or shocked or whatever these things did to me. Anyway he put me to the test by turning and signaling with his fingers. I rose and took up my position six feet behind his right shoulder.

As we walked he continued to explain. "The name of this game is control. Control is sexually stimulating. It crosses lifestyle boundaries. For example, some gay men such as myself can gain sexual pleasure by dominating women, in this case, you. The more aspects of your life I control, the more I enjoy the scene. Here, we’ll control many aspects of your life that you would not even consider being significant. That includes how you walk, talk, dress, eat, sleep, and any of a dozen simple facets of your life you take for granted. Sometimes the circumstances we’ll force upon you will be meaningless and tiresome in your opinion. To us it will always be important. Why? Because it will indicate your level of obedience. And that’s how we judge how good we are. You see, turning a person into a slave is like creating a work of art. The discipline and beauty of the slave reflects the dedication, creativity, pride, and perhaps the very soul of the owner. There is nothing we care about more. When I show you off to Marie and Paul the praise they give to you is a credit to me. I am your trainer and I take that responsibility seriously."

So he considered me to be a work of art. Now I understood why he took so much time preparing me for this encounter. I also understood why the bondage was so severe. It was as if I was a pet going to a show. It was quite obvious that he enjoyed the creative process. I was his creation but more importantly I was also his pet. Yes, it was degrading but it was also something I understood since as a child I had owned many pets. I just never figured that I’d be on the other end of the leash.

I didn’t have to kneel again until we had descended the ramp. I found walking in the heels more unnerving while descending than when I had gone up the ramps. I had to look down the slope and that bothered me. But I got the hang of it by the time I had gotten to the bottom.

Once we were on level ground again he suddenly stopped for no reason and pointed one finger toward the floor. I suppose it was a test to see if I was paying attention. Well I hesitated then nearly tripped as I rushed to his side and dropped to my right knee.

"Well, that was certainly graceful," he said sardonically. "Don’t rush. Take your time. You need to keep your eyes on my right shoulder. You only have to watch for hand signals when I stop, at least for now. We’ll get into more complicated hand signals shortly. For now, the only signals you’ll get are kneel and rise commands. And those commands are only given when I’m not moving."

With the lecture over he silently signaled me to rise. I found it hard to stand and would have lost my balance if Hugo hadn’t put a hand under my armpit. I still hadn’t gotten used to these heels.

He had me follow him around the lower level of the huge building just for practice. Every now and then he’d stop and point one or two fingers toward the ground. I learned quickly that he was in no rush to have me kneel at his side. I became comfortable with the act of walking up to his right side and kneeling on command. He began praising me for my obedience and my gracefulness. He said I was progressing nicely.

After ten or fifteen such acts he began instructing me in other signals. Now I had to watch his right hand while I was moving as well. These signals would tell me how to walk.

We started with a signal for the normal walk. This signal consisted of him showing me an open flat hand with his fingers together and pointing straight down. He called this the at ease signal.

Next came the trot signals. There were two, the half knee lift and the full knee lift. When his flat palm was placed against his leg with fingers extended I was to execute a half knee trot. This consisted of flexing my knees and pointing my toes toward the ground with each step. I was to raise my leg until my thigh was at a forty-five degree angle. He told me I was to stomp my heel smartly with each step so he could hear it clearly. The full knee step, signaled by placing his flat palm horizontally, was exactly the same with the exception that I was instructed to raise my knee much higher, at least as high as my waist. With both steps I found that it produced a staccato march. My gait was stuttered and halting, almost military in nature. I found it demanded tremendous concentration. It became overwhelming to now have to watch Hugo’s hand while concentrating on my form at the same time. Add to that the need to stay behind his right shoulder and kneel on command every now and then and I had no time to think about my nudity or bondage. I only could pay attention to Hugo, attempting to be the perfect, obedient slave. I thought I did a good job.

Those were apparently all the walking lessons for the day. Hugo gave the hand signal for the half knee trot and I began lifting my knees accordingly. As Hugo led me into the glass corridor my heels echoed through the chamber, making me self-conscious of the situation I had gotten myself into. I felt anxiety invade my thoughts. But suddenly Hugo signaled a change and turned his palm horizontal. I forced myself to concentrate on the new trot. I now had to lift my knees higher.

We traveled through the mansion for some time before coming to a large parlor. Marie was waiting with Paul as well as several other people. There were twelve slave girls bound in various outfits. They were all gagged and each had their hands bound behind them with single sleeves. No sleeve was alike and all were brightly colored. Not one stitch of black leather was to be found on these slaves.

Each was accompanied by an attendant. The attendants were all dressed the same, wearing white pants and t-shirts with a black belt. These attendants, unlike Hugo, wore a pair of name tags. One tag indicated the name of the trainer. The other tag would simply say, "Trainer of Sex (or bondage) Slave," on the first line followed by the name of the slave on the second. It was obvious that each girl had their own personal trainer.

Most of the trainers were seated in chairs and love seats. The slaves knelt nearby. Each trainer held a leash, keeping the slave’s head within easy reach. These leads were rarely attached to a collar, although some were. Most were attached to bare breasts. Some were connected to rings mounted in the slave’s crotch, and of course there was the occasional tongue leash.

When we arrived I could see everyone’s eyes light up, especially Marie’s. She approached me displaying a huge grin. "Oh my," she said. She began running her hands over my face, feeling the leather straps. She quickly moved to my breasts, petting them as if they were prized possessions. I could tell she enjoyed the feel of tight leather. "I do love that white corset. I think it’s Paul’s best idea. I wasn’t exactly in favor of it back when we started this all but I do love the way you always seem to make the white anchor the ensemble. It really sets off the other colors," she offered, commenting on Hugo’s creativity.

"I think it’s only proper for a rookie. White seems very appropriate for a virgin offering," he said.

"Virgin offering," Marie repeated. "Yes, I like that term. It’s not necessarily accurate but I think it’s more than appropriate. Anyway, we have introductions to make. Paul?"

Paul introduced each slave and master. The slaves seemed to be much disciplined. It was evident in their manner. They only nodded once when introduced, as I had been told to do on several occasions. The responded to simple tugs of the leash or mere hand signals without delay. I noticed their movements were stiff, almost robotic in nature. It was obvious that they had been trained well.

The masters seemed to be caring, often petting the slaves’ hair or caressing them against their leg as they knelt. They often played with the slave’s hair. Some would wipe drool from the slave’s lips. Not one seemed to be abusive or demanding. They each seemed to have a close relationship with their slave, as if they were in love with them. It made me wonder if they were.

Marie and Paul apparently didn’t possess personal slaves. This seemed strange to me at first. I suddenly realized that we were all owned by Paul and Marie. We were their personal slaves and we would all share that responsibility.

Marie took the transmitter from Hugo and signaled me to follow. Hugo walked behind both of us, apparently watching me from behind. Paul stayed with the other slaves.

Shortly after we started moving, Marie slapped her right thigh. I took the hint and began doing the half step I had been taught. I realized as I walked that Marie couldn’t see me walk. Only Hugo could enjoy seeing me march in this strange manner. I wondered why the roles weren’t reversed. Why didn’t Hugo lead, allowing Marie to watch me march? Perhaps Marie simply enjoyed hearing my footsteps click on the wood flooring. It was puzzling to say the least.

Our little parade moved through the various parts of the complex. I followed Marie closely, always on guard to avoid setting off the buzzer between my legs. Marie walked slowly, never looking back but always talking. She knew I wouldn’t wander out of earshot of course.

We traveled to the far end of the west wing and arrived in one two buildings that housed the attendants, the other situated on the end of the east wing. Marie pointed one finger to the floor and I calmly walked up to her side and knelt.

"This is servant complex one," she said. "On the opposite end of the complex is servant complex two. Each has two floors above ground and a recreational facility below. We won’t disturb the tenants since some work the late shift. In due time, you’ll meet all of them."

We next proceeded to the left center building, the sister building of the one that I had been taken to earlier. Marie ordered me to march as before. When we arrived Marie explained that the lower level was dedicated to marching sessions. All her girls marched.

"Bondage is fun for a while," she said. "But soon it gets boring without a theme. That’s why I like having my slaves march. It gives me something to focus on, to build upon. I have to admit, it’s become an obsession. But I suppose you’ve already figured that out."

We trotted up to the second floor and entered one of the slave quarters. Marie again signaled me to kneel at her side. The bedroom was deserted since all the girls were in the main parlor. I noticed that the room was similar to my quarters. It was wedge shaped and nearly the same size. There was one difference. There were two beds instead of one. These girls had to share bedrooms.

We began another march. This time our destination was the mansion. Hugo continued to follow as I stomped my heels. Half way through the glass tunnel Marie stopped and ordered me to kneel at her side once more.

"You’ll notice the courtyard is beautifully kept. The grass is green. The palm trees are leafy and healthy. The flowers are perfectly pruned. If you thought that things seem out of place for such a hot climate you would be correct. Palms and roses don’t grow in the desert without a lot of irrigation, which we simply can’t do here. All of it is artificial, all except the cactus that is. The trees are Hollywood props. The grass is artificial turf and the flowers are custom made to my specifications. We do have a gardener but his job is more a matter of rearranging the flower bed to make it look original each week."

"If you look into the distance you can see the storage barn where we house the most elaborate coaches. We tend to use them in the evening after the sun has set. Even with the shade the trees provide it’s far too hot during the day to march outdoors. We do have a solarium on the rear deck of the mansion though. We’ll make sure you get a proper tan, although you might not like the method we use."

The sun was setting quickly and Marie was apparently on a tight schedule. Perhaps she wanted me prepared for an evening trot under bit and bridle. I couldn’t tell. All I could tell was that she wanted to end the tour quickly. She turned and started moving. I had no choice but to follow.

Marie made the sign for the high step. With Hugo following I did the best I could to move in the precise high-stepping fashion he had taught me only hours before. I was clumsy but I didn’t fall. I was getting tired and the heels didn’t help. I fell behind and got buzzed in my crotch. I quickly moved closer and concentrated on improving my gait. Neither said a word, as if they expected me to lose my stride. Marie just kept walking forward. I kept marching.

The last part of the tour was kind of dull. Marie showed me the various rooms in the mansion. In the rear was the kitchen where no fewer than twenty servants and four chefs were doing initial preparations for tomorrow’s breakfast. The kitchen was of restaurant dimensions capable, according to Marie, of serving three hundred people. The thing that surprised me was that no one was even slightly fazed by the fact that a leather clad bondage model had entered the room. I had to wonder if they were that accustomed to this situation. Apparently yes.

On the first floor there also was a large guest bedroom as well as a playroom capable of satisfying the most avid bondage enthusiast. The walls were littered with gags, harnesses, whips, and all sorts of ropes and straps. The center of the room contained racks and posts for binding the slave. Even the ceiling and floor had hooks and rings to be used for all sorts of kinky fun. It made me a little anxious to see gear in such quantity, especially knowing that I’d get to sample most of it before long.

The mansion had an elevator. I appreciated that fact since the stairway was an elaborate carpeted affair that I would never be able to climb in my outfit. The second floor also contained a bondage playroom although this seemed to be more of a storage area. Oh, it wasn’t used to store bondage gear. It was used to store slaves. Now I knew where all the bondage slaves had disappeared to. They had been conspicuously absent from the mansion during our tour. Now I knew where they were. This was the gallery.

Each girl knelt in a suspended cage no more than three feet square. Their heads were mounted in stocks along the front edge of each cage. The stocks were nothing more than a black felt block of wood laid at an angle to the top of the cage. It made each girl’s head protrude forward. Each head was, of course, gagged severely. The gag of choice was the tongue stretching gag I had worn earlier. The end of the tongue was adorned by a small silver bell.

Paul was in the room examining each girl carefully. As he finished inspecting each girl, an attendant would wrap the cage in a black cloth skirt, essentially hiding the interior of the cage. Only the head remained visible, on display for all to see. At that point the attendants would then sit down. They used chairs directly behind the cages, watching carefully for any trouble that might develop.

"We’re not doing the evening trot tonight so Paul decided to put the girls in these display cages. The girls will spend a few hours here to make up the difference. They soon understand how much more interesting pony-girl bondage is," Marie quipped.

Once all the cages had been covered, Paul pointed to one cage on the left. "I’ll use her," he said. The cage was lowered to the floor a second later. Two of the attendants grabbed protruding handles on either side of the cage and removed it from the chain rig. The cage was placed on a dolly and pushed into the next room. I watched as the rear facing head of the slave gazed directly at me. She didn’t seem fearful at all. But it was pretty hard to tell with the gag stretching her mouth.

We followed them into the next room. This room could best be described as a bondage lounge. There were several leather chairs and loveseats facing a carpeted area where it was apparent that various bondage scenes could be carried out. The corners contained large padded crosses. The center of the room contained one wide post and the ceiling sported a number of chains and suspended bars with manacles. The right wall contained a number of closets and cabinets which I was sure contained even more bondage gear. The entire left wall was built of French doors which opened onto the rear patio. Looking through the doors I could see two wooden frames equipped with manacles. It seemed as though the entire complex was built from the ground up with nothing but bondage in mind.

I was ordered to watch carefully as Paul removed the girl’s gag. "First he’ll kiss her," Hugo whispered to me. Paul crouched and looked into the girl’s eyes. She seemed to smile before he kissed her on the lips. When he stood, he looked down at her. Their eyes met and she nodded once before opening her mouth and extending her tongue. "She just told him she’s ready for oral sex," Hugo informed me quietly. At that point, the girl’s face disappeared as Paul pressed himself up against the girl’s face. I knew what he was doing. I was grateful that I couldn’t see the actual act. Oh, I had seen this done in X-rated movies but I had never been in the same room with someone who had done this kind of stuff. It made me very uncomfortable.

After Paul had finished with the girl, her attendant cleaned her up and took her away. Paul then approached me and placed his hand under my chin. "Do you think you can handle that?" he asked. It was a challenge to nod my head but I did. I still didn’t know how I would summon the courage to agree to the act but I knew I would have to or lose out on that million bucks.

"Train her well, Hugo. I’ll give you three days. Make sure she’s ready," he directed Hugo.

"I’ll do that. Are we finished," Hugo asked Marie.

"I think so. We’ll take care of Paul’s needs. Then we’ll work on the other stuff for my benefit."

"Yes. I’d think that would be best," Hugo agreed.

The tour was over. We had returned to my room, Hugo leading the way. I was exhausted. My jaw was sore from having it spread for nearly two hours. My feet hurt from walking in heels all day. My shoulders hurt. And I won’t even mention things felt between my legs. Add jet lag to all this and the fact that I had gotten up early to start this entire process and you could see my point.

But nobody seemed to care about my state of exhaustion. Instead Hugo led me to my room and had me kneel. He obviously wasn’t done since he didn’t remove any of my bonds. He just had me drop to one knee at the foot of the bed. "Stay," he disappeared into the closet.

A moment later he returned with some very strange items. The first item of note was a long black leather collar which had a number of straps and gadgets hanging from it. "Don’t be afraid," he said as he wrapped the leather tube around my neck and head.

The collar was close fitting and long. It bulged slightly to fit the contour of my head as it rose above my ears and covered the back of my head. There were air holes cut in the leather around my ears to allow me to hear clearly. In addition, the collar across my shoulders extended both front and back to my breastbone and shoulder blades. Once the buckles in the back were secured I couldn’t turn my head without turning my entire body.

"I’m going to prepare you for oral sex training," he warned. "We do this with all the girls, especially those that have no experience in the art. Don’t be afraid. I’ll go slowly so you can get used to the activity. I’m now going to fix it so that you won’t be able to close your mouth. Then we’ll take it from there. Don’t be afraid," he said.

The next ordeal involved Hugo inserting metal spoons into my mouth alongside the rubber ball. He had to disconnect the ball from the head harness first of course. The spoons were U-shaped and attached to the collar with adjustable leather straps. One went in each side. Once the straps were pulled tight he removed the rubber ball. My mouth stayed open of course. "Extend your tongue," he ordered. I dreaded the words but obeyed. A small gold cone was produced for my tongue which he pressed over its tip. He pressed a pin up from underneath. Then he gave the pin a quarter turn with the wrench and it was secure. Hugo produced a leather leash. In short order he had my tongue pulled out of my mouth and secured the leather strap to the collar. He left the leash loose enough so that I had to keep my tongue extended enough so that it just touched my lower lip.

He had me stand and follow him to a large chair that faced the TV. He sat and I knelt. I knew what was coming.

"I know you’re nervous," he said. "Every girl, even the ones that are experienced get nervous at this point. That is normal. At the start I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. This session’s going to last an hour or so. If you feel you can’t handle it, back off now. I won’t stop you and you won’t be penalized, at least not tonight. Now lean forward and take it," he ordered as he unzipped his pants and showed me his manhood.

A moment later my mouth was full and I didn’t like it. I knew I’d have to do this but I was hoping I could adjust better. I tried to think about the money. After all, this was the act that would get me the big bucks. Bondage only paid a tenth of what the sex paid. This single act was worth $900,000. That was enough to keep me leaning forward, even though it was the most disgusting thing I had ever done.

"Eyes up, Casey!" he ordered. "Try to maintain eye contact with your owner whenever possible. Also, press down harder with your lower lip and keep your teeth off my cock."

I did as he ordered and looked up at him. He praised me then sat back and turned on the TV. I heard some sports program, probably ESPN. In the meantime I noticed him getting hard and realized that eventually things were going to get difficult for me. I knew what the next act would be. I was on the verge of panic.

Hugo must have noticed and began petting my hair. "Don’t be afraid. It’s not as bad as you might think," he said. He then threaded his fingers into the straps of the headgear, preventing me from pulling back. With his right hand he grabbed one of the chains going from ear to nose and gently pulled me even closer to him.

"When you’re ready, I want you to start sucking just like you did with the vegetables. Once you start, I’ll force you to complete the act. Don’t be afraid. It’s not that bad."

Now I was frightened. I no longer had the ability to say no to the act. If I resisted, I’d be raped. But I knew Hugo. He had treated me well all day. This was a training session I realized. I had to do this because that’s what I was being paid to so. That’s how I justified it. That’s how I got myself to comply. And I did.

He began petting my hair with his left hand as he held onto the chain with his right. His entire body stiffened as I tasted the semen in my mouth. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be released. I began to pull away but he held onto the chain firmly. I felt pain in my nose and my right ear. I was helpless and confused and I didn’t know what to do as the liquid collected in my cheeks and under my tongue.

"Swallow," he said as my mouth began filling. I began to panic. He repeated his command, "Swallow, I said!"

He wouldn’t release me from his grip. I looked up at him for encouragement. He was smiling. "Come on, Honey. I know you can do it." A second later my mouth was no longer full of semen and I was again sucking his cock. He praised me. "Good girl. Keep that eye contact though." I kept looking up at him while my tongue and lip did the work he desired.

While he didn’t exactly go flaccid, after my initial bit of work he had me relax. Instead he simply forced me to kneel between his legs, gagged with his manhood. He refused to remove his cock from my mouth. Instead he kept hold of the chain going to my nose and continued to watch the news. I had to keep him in my mouth for nearly an hour. During that time he ignored me for the most part. He simply wanted to exert his dominance over me by keeping me gagged in this manner.

Twenty minutes later, while a commercial was on, he forced me to begin the sucking and pumping action again. He continued to coach me. He especially paid attention to my eyes, forcing me to look up at him at all times. In the meantime my tongue remained extended and I continued to suck and swallow.

At the end of this session I again remained kneeling with him in my mouth. Another twenty minutes passed before the process was repeated a third time. This time was the final session. Once he was satisfied he removed himself from my mouth and began undressing me. I made a sour face once the gag was removed.

"Do you think you can do that three or four times a day?" he asked.

"You mean one session with three or four orgasms like we just did?" I asked.

"No. I mean three or four hour long sessions like we just did."

It took me a moment to comprehend his words. "Yes, Hugo, I can do it," I said confidently. "If I can handle one hour like this, I’m sure I can handle more."

"When we have parties you will."

Again I hesitated. But I wanted the money that bad. "I can do it, Hugo."

It took some time for him to remove all the bondage gear. I massaged my jaw and stretched afterwards. Eventually I was free of the gear and he allowed me to wear a black silk robe for modesty’s sake. He escorted me to the bathroom where he donned a pair of gloves before removing my dildos. "Shower and brush your teeth. Use lots of mouthwash. You’ll feel much better. I’ll be back in half an hour. I’ve got one more thing to show you before you hit the sack."

I ran the water extra hot and let it flow over my tired muscles. My shoulders were extremely stiff from the strict bondage I had endured for the past four hours. I couldn’t remember when I had enjoyed a shower so much.

Hugo was sitting on the bed waiting. He rose when I emerged from the bathroom and he wrapped his arms around me. His kiss seemed sincere rather than platonic. If he were truly gay, I’d expect otherwise.

"For being gay you sure seem to perform a lot of heterosexual acts," I offered.

"I’m funny that way," he said mockingly.

"No, I mean it Hugo. That woman, Teresa, said you were gay. But you don’t kiss like a gay man."

"You’ve kissed gay men before?"

"You know what I mean," I said.

"I’m still discovering myself. Maybe I’m not as gay as Teresa thinks. Anyway, it’s getting late. Let me give you your orders for the morning."

I helped him gather a few items from the closet and deposit them on the shelves that were to the left of the vanity. I took the boots while he gathered the rest of the gear.

I noticed that the boots had high heels made out of a clear plastic material. The heels were roughly an inch wide and five inches high. The boots also sported silver horseshoes. They were steel of course but they also had rubber cleats. Hugo explained that this feature was added so I could walk on the polished wooden floors of the mansion without risk of damage.

Hugo opened the bag containing the gag, a black wooden bit attached to a series of black leather straps. "Notice the opening in the back," he ordered. "You insert your tongue in it and press upwards on this button until it snaps in place. Then you insert the entire assembly in your mouth. To release the pin press both metal end-rings inward at the same time."

"You want me to gag myself? Now?" I asked, fearing that he wanted me to sleep with a bit in my mouth.

"No. Tomorrow morning I want you to do the following. When the alarm goes off at six..."

"Six? A.M.?"

"That’s right. You have to do your exercise before the sun is very high or it will be too hot. You’ll get used to it. Besides, this is the Western time zone. To a New Yorker, it would be more like nine in the morning."

"Oh. I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry."

"This panel on the wall has the details of what you have to do. Try and be finished by seven. I’ll come and get you around then so I can finish your outfitting. We need to have you downstairs and ready by 7:30."

"Yes, Hugo. What do I have to do?"

Hugo suggested I set the alarm earlier than six o’clock, at least until I got used to the routine. I read over the instructions several times and checked all the items I’d need the following morning. Hugo suggested I get to sleep by eleven. That gave me a half hour.

Hugo said that a couple girls might still be up in the office. After Hugo left I decided to visit the narrow room. It was roughly twenty-five feet long by eight feet wide. It was equipped with a TV, a long, narrow dining table, a sink, and several chairs. Off to one side was a set of metal stairs leading up to the third floor. I could see a door at the top labeled "Monitor Station Sigma. Authorized Personnel Only."

There were a few people in the room, three men near the window and two girls sitting closer to the door. They were only wearing their robes like me. They were drinking glasses of water and watching a movie. "Hi," one of them said. "I’m Dee and this is Sandra."

"I met Sandra," I said. "I’m Casey."

"You get your Hugo special?" Dee asked.

"Yes," I said quietly.

"You OK?" Sandra asked. She seemed concerned.

"I never did it before like that. I’ll be fine," I said.

"You can’t let it get to you. Besides, Hugo never does anything in a mean way. He cares for all of us. That’s why he built this place," Dee said.

"Yes, Hugo does seem to enjoy what he’s doing," I said.

"Hugo likes to train because he considers himself an artist and us his masterpieces. Didn’t you notice how meticulous he is with makeup and hair style, how careful he is with every seam, every buckle? He believes bondage is an art form, not a kinky sex act. After a while, you’ll see his point," Sandra explained.

"Does he train you girls too?"

"No, not anymore. He only trains girls during the first month. Then we’re handed off to the crew," Sandra said, pointing to the men I had noticed earlier. "Would you like to meet them?"

"Casey, this is Brandon. This is Tony. And this is Ed. Ed works the evening shift and does the walkthroughs. If you’re still awake in the middle of the night you may spot him in your room. Brandon is my trainer and Tony handles Sandy. They rotate every so often to keep us from getting too attached. Hugo doesn’t want the trainers to get too close to the slaves."

"He doesn’t seem to follow his own set of rules then," I quipped.

"Oh?" It was Tony that seemed most surprised.

"From the way you talk about him I get the impression that he avoids being affectionate. And he is gay too, right?"

"That’s right, although he split up with his friend many years ago. He was affectionate? That’s strange. Maybe he’s finally breaking out of his slump," Sandy said.

I was going to ask more questions but thought better of it. I just had a gut feeling that this might be a good place to offer a little diplomacy. "Please," I said. "This is my first day. I suppose I’m not used to so much attention. Perhaps I read more into his smiles and kisses than I should have."

"Perhaps," Tony said. "So, how did you handle things?"

"I’m still here," I said.

"Good for you," Brandon said. "You’re the first girl in six months to hang in there after the first day."

"Really? I suppose this whole deal is pretty intense. But with a million bucks I’d figure at least someone would think the sacrifice would be worth it. How many girls?"

"Four," Ed said.

"Really? Well, I’m not leaving anytime soon. I may not enjoy the activity as much as some people but I can deal with it."

"That’s the way I feel," Dee said. "Hey, it’s getting late and we all have to be in harness tomorrow at seven. I’m hitting the sack."

"Same here. You better set your alarm a little earlier than six since you’re not familiar with the list of stuff you have to do. Make sure you read the list carefully before you climb into bed. And don’t forget to take those chains off your face. You’ll never fall asleep with them on," Sandy suggested.

"Thanks," I said as I headed back to my room.

Chapter 6: The Morning Run

I remember thinking as I awoke to the sound of the loud buzzing that they had thought of everything. It was 5:30 in the morning and I so desperately wanted to hit the alarm clock’s snooze button. But there wasn’t one! In fact, the button to turn off the alarm was on the far side of the room, even though the speaker for the alarm was mounted in the headboard. I couldn’t turn off the annoying sound without getting out of bed.

I stumbled into the bathroom to wash the sleep from my face. There were a pair of special tablets that provided me with instructions. The tablets were posted both in the bedroom near the vanity as well as in the bathroom next to the mirror. Displayed in black letters on a white background were the instructions I needed to follow. Next to each instruction was a white box. I had been told to touch the white box when I had completed each task. Apparently the tablets were electronically linked so that when I marked a task done on one tablet it would show up on the other.

The first task was somewhat simple. "Brush your teeth twice. Be thorough," it said. That was fairly simple to complete. I used the brush and toothpaste they provided and completed the task. Then I pressed my finger to the first white square and it suddenly showed a large check mark on it.

The next task wasn’t nearly as simple. "Empty bowels naturally if possible. Then perform 3 enema cycles." It was humiliating to have a machine evacuate my insides like I was some sort of engine component for a car. I pushed the button to raise the probe. Then I sat on it. When I pressed the buttons in the order I had been taught the dildo expanded to seal itself inside me, thus locking it in place. I couldn’t rise without causing myself significant damage. First air then warm water was pumped into me. I could feel it fill my insides. I saw on the panel the countdown for the filling process. When it stopped I would have to soak for two minutes. There was a countdown display for this as well. Then it sucked the water out. That wasn’t pleasant at all but it was necessary according to Hugo’s previous explanation.

I sat for another ten minutes while the process was repeated twice more. I couldn’t get up during the entire time. With nothing else to look at the electronic panel drew my attention. It was as if I were detached from the process as I watched the various lights come on and blink off. I quickly became accustomed to the feeling of water and air being pumped into me.

The process wasn’t painful but it prevented me from moving. I stretched my legs while seated. I also noticed a number of bondage magazines on a stand beside the toilet. Of course with nothing else to do and nowhere to go I began perusing through the material. It wasn’t my cup of tea but it helped pass the time.

The last green light came on and the display said depressurizing. At the same time the dildo reduced in size and I could feel an oily substance being pumped around my opening. Hugo explained yesterday that this was a special healing ointment that was being applied.  It would both lubricate my anus and help heal any abrasion that had occurred from the dildos I had worn.

I was grateful to press my finger to the tablet and mark this process done. But the next task was little better. I had to give myself three douches. The pre-loaded syringes were in a closet. They were packaged in groups of three with a small tube of healing salve which needed to be applied last. At least it was a task I had done before. It didn’t take long before the process was complete. I then took the tube of healing cream and spread it around my opening. One more task was complete and I marked it on the panel.

I next had to shower. The instructions said to take no longer than ten minutes. Hugo had explained that I would have to take a second shower after the exercise period. Essentially I washed my hair, applied conditioner, and gave myself a quick wipe over my body. I used the towels from the closet and the hair dryer to complete the process. The entire task took just over ten minutes. One more task was complete. This completed all the tasks on the first page. I pressed the button that said "Next Page" and a new set of tasks was displayed.

The remaining tasks were to be completed in the bedroom. I looked at the tablet next to the vanity. It, of course, was identical to the one in the bathroom and it displayed all the tasks I had completed. The next item was simply to fix my hair into a ponytail using the black leather strap. My ponytail had to be formed at a particular spot on my head. Otherwise it might interfere with the harness I was going to apply. Hugo had provided a template which measured the correct distance from my forehead to the strap and I adjusted it until my hair emerged from my head at the correct position.

Next came the makeup. I first checked my lipstick but it seemed fine. Hugo said I probably wouldn’t have to touch it for another day or two. My lips still had that matte dark red look that they had since yesterday when Hugo had applied the coloring.

I did have to do my eyes and my cheeks. My nose was a little shiny so I toned it down with foundation. Hugo told me to be meticulous with the makeup, as if I was preparing myself for a TV appearance. He told me to go easy with the rouge though and to apply light diagonal strokes along my cheekbones. I liked the effect. One more task complete.

The next line said, "Install collar." I thought the wording seemed strange but I got the idea. Install? The guy who wrote this must have been a mechanic! Anyway, the job was fairly easy to accomplish. I picked up the three inch wide black leather strap and wrapped it around my neck. The edges were contoured to fit my neck snugly. When I connected the ends I couldn’t rotate my head without moving my shoulders. I walked over to the pad and marked this task done as well.

I had to put the boots on next. Of course I had seen them the day before. The plastic heels seemed exceptionally strong and the soles above the horseshoes were over an inch thick. I slipped the right boot on and it went right up to my crotch. The top was cut at a slight angle, higher on the outside of the leg. I began pulling on the slightly elastic laces. It took several minutes to pull the leather tight enough so that it looked right. Hugo had warned me that my boots would be checked carefully. He wanted the seam straight and he wanted the leather stretched perfectly around my legs. I’d get my butt warmed if I didn’t do it right. Once both boots were on I stood and walked in them a bit. They felt strange but reasonably comfortable. I found that I couldn’t turn my ankle to the side which I considered an advantage. There was little chance of injury from a misstep.

Only three more tasks remained on the checklist. Since these items wouldn’t take long to complete I decided to wait till I had ten minutes left. At 6:50 I took the head harness and slipped it down over my head. I had to pull the ponytail through a metal ring at the top. This harness again had the inverted "V" shaped straps that ran down either side of my nose as well as the strap that ran up to the center ring that my ponytail was sticking through. A pair of vertical straps ran from that ring and connected under my chin via a metal buckle. The horizontal strap ran from this belt to the back of my neck. More vertical straps ran down to encircle my head with two straps remaining free for the bit that I had to apply next.

This was the most difficult task. All the other self bondage was little more than decoration. I had worn boots before, albeit none so kinky. I had worn chokers, which I considered a collar to be to some extent. The nose ring was a bit much but it was jewelry more or less. But the bit was real bondage. It was a gag and I had to secure my tongue to it as well. For me, that was more difficult than showing my crotch or my tits to the gang downstairs. I decided at that point I was making far too big a deal of it and inserted my tongue into the slot. I pressed the little rod upwards and felt it go into the grommet. Then I clipped the straps on either side of my head to the device and I was quite effectively gagged. I walked to the wall and marked another task complete.

That left two more small items. First I took the two small chains and connected them to my ear and nose rings. I pressed the button again. Then I applied the elbow length heavy leather gloves. They fit perfectly as everything did. That being done I pressed the next to last button.

At that point the last button began blinking. The instructions were quite simple. "Press button to declare yourself ready for service. Warning! Once you press button you must take station," it said. Being bound and gagged as I was I wanted to get this thing rolling. I pressed the final button and walked to the foot of the bed where I knelt on both knees facing away from the wall. Hugo had instructed me last night on the proper position. In front of me was a padded bench with a wooden stock for my head. I pulled the stock open and inserted my head. The lock was magnetic and would only engage if my neck was in the hole. I then rested my chin on the bench and folded my hands on the small of my back. I was ready.

Hugo:

I had been through the process hundreds of times but this was different. I didn’t want to treat her any more special than the others but she had this innocence about her that intrigued me. Yes, it’s true that most of the girls were innocent to the bondage scene. Most of the girls, even those that had accepted the life of slave, considered these acts of bondage as a form of rape. Even though they had the ability to escape from the scene at any time, they found themselves locked into the agreement because they wanted that huge sum of money so badly. I didn’t see that in Casey. While she wasn’t totally willing, I got the feeling that she actually enjoyed most of the things we did. The oral stuff was still a reach for her but that wasn’t unusual. But the bondage and the marching seemed to be something she actually enjoyed.

"Your girl’s ready," Angelo, our captain, said. He would monitor the task panels as well as secretly observe each girl in our section. There were hidden cameras in every room designed for this task.

I proceeded down the stairs and found her kneeling as I had instructed her to do the previous day. Her bare back and her tightly bound leather legs made me forget my commitment to my sexual tendencies. I silently admired that lithe body that had obediently completed the list of tasks without hesitation. The question on my mind as well as everyone else’s was, "Would she be able to continue to be obedient for a full year?"

Time was short. I had little time left to get her ready. With her head in the stock she was for all practicality helpless. In the position I could easily inspect her. Even with time being short I wanted to present a quality image so I made sure I inspected her body carefully. First I kicked her knees apart to expose her crotch. It was dry and clean. Her ass showed a slight reddening around her hole indicating that she had indeed used the cleaning device. Finally I checked her makeup and her mouth, verifying that she had applied the makeup according to directions and had captured her tongue in the bit as I had ordered. I patted her on the head. "Good job," I praised.

The first article of clothing I applied was a red leather corset that fit from neck to hips. It was more or less a sleeveless vest which zippered closed in the back. I had to use the ratchet straps to pull the waist section closed and shape her waist. It was heavily boned along the back which caused her to arch and lift her ass high in the air. Once the edges met I snapped the clips closed, removed the temporary tension straps, and pulled up the zipper.

All this time she kept her hands obediently behind her back, moving them only to accommodate me. This helped tremendously since the next garment was the triangular arm binder. I walked over to the rack and retrieved the black triangular garment. It slipped easily up her arms. Internal sleeves kept her arms straight as I connected short straps to the top of the vest. This garment was designed to be hidden behind the back with no apparent straps showing in front. Again, this was a lace free garment. I had to use the ratchet straps to pull her arms together until I could close clips and hide them with the zipper. In the process, I inserted a small battery between her arms and secured it firmly. The binder had wiring built into it. The battery would power the dildos of course.

"Time for your dildos. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll get the stuff," I said. She grunted once in acknowledgement. I retrieved the gear from the shelf and started with her ass. The device I inserted first was a socketed dildo with a butterfly flange. I greased it well and inserted it. She groaned when I did this. The studs appeared through the holes in the flange. Next I took a strap that was attached to the arm binder at the elbows and pulled it downward. I laid the ring that was attached over the protruding shaft from the dildo and sandwiched it between the flange and the matching gold cover. I pressed four fasteners over the studs and gave them a half turn to secure them. It formed her body into a pleasant arch. Finally I inserted a white horsetail into the socket. Now I could open the stocks and let her stand.

The front dildo was hardly any trouble. I knelt in front of her and simply inserted it. Eight small gold pearls secured it. I also slipped her little clit ring through the provided slot and secured it with a tiny padlock. A thin pair of straps, actually the positive and negative wiring harnesses, was inserted into the lower edge of the device. The green bezel lit for a second then went off. I heard her yelp from the short buzz it gave her.

We were almost done. I only needed to add the harness and the chains and I could take her downstairs. The harness consisted of black leather straps. The belt went on first and was very thick and well padded. It fastened in front and hugged the hips nicely. A pair of leather straps ran down each hip and connected to the highest point on the boots.

Next came the two thin leather straps. I clipped the first strap on her right hip in front. I then ran the strap under the left arm, up to the right shoulder, avoiding the arm binder of course, and then down between her breasts to be clipped to the left rear side of the belt. This I repeated the process from the left front, going under her right arm and coming down from her left shoulder to her right rear clip. In the end she was entirely wrapped in a patent leather web. The black leather looked fabulous against her red outfit.

The front of her outfit had small metal lined holes for her nipples. The cups included restrictive rings inside, which formed her breasts properly so they would fill the outfit in a way that I found pleasing. I wanted her breasts covered because I found the tight outfit made them look more appealing rather than leaving them bare. But I liked the idea of nipple bondage and I left them available for a little extra decoration.

First I cut the old rings off. They were cheap plated spring steel as were all the rings. Then I covered each nipple with a gold cone. I placed half-moon shaped rings in the proper position and inserted a special pin into the cone, securing the ring and cone to her breast with a special pin that slipped through the thin tube that had been inserted into each nipple. I then secured the cone to the metal openings with small threaded screws that had gold heads. These became small studs that encircled her nipples.

When both nipples were captured I only needed to decorate her with a few gold chains. First, thin chains connected her nipples together. I draped three strands of quarter inch gold between them. Then I ran a thicker pair of gold chains from her tits to her a small clip just below her collar’s large center ring. Finally I ran a pair of half-inch chains from her clit, up to each breast, then up to the ends of the bit.

"I think you’re done, I said as I stood back. Watch the hand signals from this point further. No walking either from now on. Assume a half step march at all times unless you’re told to high step. Clear?" I asked.

Her bitted and bound body seemed reluctant and nervous but she nodded her head once. I didn’t like the soft nature of her response so I hit the buzzer on the remote. She groaned. "You need to be more assertive when you’re responding. Move your head more quickly. Clear?" I said in a stern voice. This time she acknowledged my command with a quicker nod of her head. "Better!" I said.

We were just barely on schedule. I indicated that she should follow me and ordered began the slow march downstairs. I could not hear her steps loudly. I knew she wasn’t doing the proper step. I pressed the button on the remote and heard a satisfying groan. But she didn’t get the hint. I repeated the act and also gave the hand signal to high step. Soon I heard the loud sounds of her boots clopping down the ramp. A second later I made her do the half steps. Now I heard her feet hitting the wooden ramp properly. I didn’t need to look back once. I knew she was following orders.

Four girls were already hitched to Marie and Paul’s coaches when we arrived, with two girls hitched to each cart.  Casey was the odd girl for the time being. The next girl wouldn’t arrive for a few weeks from what I heard. Not that it mattered. We had a single cart ready for her.

Marie and Paul’s coaches were elaborate affairs with an awning to keep them in the shade. One was painted gold and the other silver. The single cart I would use with Casey was red to match her outfit and this also had an awning. Each was a four-wheeled affair with gold spokes and black rims supporting four foot diameter rims. I’m sure Casey must have wondered how she’d pull such a heavy contraption by herself. I explained it to her as I connected the pull bars.

"Casey, these carts have a motorized assist. All you have to do is march and guide the cart," I said as I connected the reins to her bit. "There’s a gasoline engine driving the wheels. As you put tension on the bars the wheels will begin to turn. The faster you walk or run, the faster the cart will go. When you stop, push backwards with your hips to engage the brakes. You always have to maintain some tension on the bars. If you ease up the cart will slow naturally from friction. Clear?"

I waited for the movement of her head and watched carefully. Her head moved smartly. "Good girl," I praised.

"A couple more things. First, the bars have hydraulic lifts to take some of the weight off your feet. That will allow you to march for longer periods of time in this sort of footwear. Once I start the engine I can adjust how much lift I can provide for you. Also, we don’t use buggy whips here. Instead we use the transmitter as an incentive. When you feel the buzzer go on and off quickly I want you to speed up. If you feel it for any longer than a quick jolt that means I’m not happy with the way you’re performing. If you feel it you’ll have to figure out what you’re doing wrong. Got it?"

Again she made one single nod of the head. We were ready.

Casey:

I was so disoriented. I knew I was going to be led around like a horse and I listened to everything Hugo told me. But this was weird, really weird. Hugo treated me both like an animal and like a work of art. He was exceptionally strict with everything I did. He wanted me to move my head just as he said and not speak a word or make a sound while gagged. As for the art bit, that was pretty obvious. He was so careful with every aspect of my outfit and my physical appearance. He corrected my posture, telling me to keep my feet together for instance. He told me to arch my back and keep my head up too. With the stiffness of the corset and my arms pulled tightly together, I couldn’t help buy arch my back and stick out my ass. The support actually helped a bit, I soon discovered.

The sensation of being bound like this was such a shocking change of pace in my life that I felt myself slipping into a trance of sorts. I suppose the best way to describe my attitude was curiosity and patience. It was like being asked to play a bit part in a movie then suddenly realizing you’re the star. I had everyone tending to me and guiding me through this strange new role. Some of it I liked. Some of it I didn’t. But I found it all so unusual I had to find out what was next on the agenda.

For instance I knew when I put the gag in my mouth it wasn’t going to be comfortable. It wasn’t. Having your tongue mounted to a bit running between your teeth is not the most pleasant thing in the world. Let me tell you.

My head was held firmly in a  stiff collar. It had a well thought out design. The collar was roughly a quarter inch thick and composed of several layers of quality leather. When I examined it I noticed the stiffness of it and its weight. It was obvious that there was a layer of steel inside as well. Every surface that would contact my skin was lined with soft leather, probably kid. The edges were lined with a shiny plastic material with a black leather covering.

What this all meant was that I couldn’t move my head and I couldn’t lower my chin. In fact my head was held so high I couldn’t see my chest or my feet. It was uncomfortable in sense that I couldn’t move my head but my head wasn’t tipped so far back that it caused neck strain. I suppose it was all part of the design.

Below my neck I could only feel the things they had done to me. Of course my hands were bound behind my back. Yes, they had done this a couple times before and I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea. What I wasn’t used to was the fact that they had mounted my arms to the plug in my ass. Every time I moved my hands I pulled on the dildo. That wasn’t fun either.

And speaking of dildos, I wore a tail too! As I had walked down the ramp I could feel it. It was strange to feel the swish of the thing against my legs. Very strange!

Marie and Paul walked over from their chariots and examined me. "Absolutely stunning," Paul said.

"Thank you," Paul replied. "She’s an amazing beauty."

"She wouldn’t look half as good without your talents, Hugo. Don’t sell yourself short," Marie returned. "Sun’s coming up. We need to get started."

I watched Marie and Paul climb into their coaches and felt Hugo climb into mine. Soon I felt the rumble of the small engine and smelled the fumes from the exhaust. A couple attendants opened the large doors in the rear of the building. Marie apparently gave her girls a jolt because I saw them stiffen before they started marching. Both girls marched in unison, lifting each leg high as they began walking. Their gait seemed effortless, as if they were hardly pulling their own weight.

Paul soon followed. I felt the quick buzz from the dildo and I began pumping my legs as well. "Higher, Casey," he yelled as I felt the buzzer go off for a longer period of time, a punishment if you will. I began lifting my knees as high as my waist. And so this was their exercise program.

As we exited the building Hugo had me follow the other two carts. We marched under the shade of the palm trees. They had created a brick path around four diamond shaped fields. The four fields themselves were arranged in a diamond pattern as well which created a sort of crossroads in the center. The distance between intersections looked to be about two hundred yards.

We followed a zigzag path, starting with a right turn to get us onto the path followed by a left, a right, and a final left. All paths were shaded heavily with imitation palms. That actually made the trot quite comfortable. We were of course in a desert but the sun hadn’t warmed the air yet. Now I understood why they had insisted on getting an early start. They wanted to get the exercise in before the sun rose too high.

I was out of shape. I hadn’t really done any sort of jogging in months. Doing this high step didn’t help much either. By the time I made my second turn, perhaps a quarter mile of walking, I was really feeling it in my legs. I had trouble lifting my knees as high as Hugo wanted. Soon after starting on the third leg I felt the quick buzz of the dildo, a clear signal to pick up the pace. In front of me I could see the other girls pulling away as they too began a faster gait. "Half knee march, Casey," I heard him yell from behind.

I started to jog and I immediately got yelled at. I felt the reins tighten until I slowed. And again he hit the buzzer! "Dammit, make up your mind," I wanted to yell at him.

"No," I heard him yell at me. "Don’t jog. I want a fast walk with a half knee lift."

Before long we got our signals straight. By the time we made the final turn I was beginning to get my second wind. Of course Hugo recognized that fact and I soon was prodded into finally getting into that jogging pace I had previously attempted. It actually found it easier to jog than to march. The engine seemed to push me along and the hydraulic lifting system kept the weight off my feet. It felt like I was nearly weightless since the bars lifted me into the air with every step. It was kind of fun to be truthful. Hugo let me run for the last two hundred yards. He controlled my speed by gently pulling back on the reins and prodding me on with the buzzer. I ran the last stretch at a nice leisurely pace, slowing only when we reached the buildings at the far end of the path.

We arrived at a small cluster of buildings. The buildings consisted of a large garage and two long wooden buildings resembling barns. The barns were L-shaped. Both featured long awnings complete with hitching posts. They were mirror images of each other with the doors bordering a wide driveway which led to the garage.

The two other carts were already parked under the right awning and the girls were standing there with their reins tied to the hitching post. I was led to their left. Hugo tied my reins to the same long wooden rail and told me to wait and rest. I could do little more than that since I was so exhausted. A moment later Hugo returned with a squirt bottle and let me drink my fill. The water was cool and refreshing. I appreciated the gesture.

"You’ll get ten minutes rest. Then Marie is going to take you on the full circuit," he said before leaving.

Hugo disappeared into the barn, leaving the five of us bound to the hitching post. The other girls didn’t say anything and they didn’t look my way. They simply stood there trying to relax. I took the hint, knowing that an even longer exercise period would soon commence. I had just done a half mile. I quickly realized that I’d be doing a full mile soon. Then it dawned on me. I’d still be 800 yards from home. I’d have to do another half mile before heading home, and that was assuming they took the short route.

Ten minutes passed before they everyone came out of the building. Hugo and Paul went directly to one of the other coaches while Marie came directly to me. She had a plastic bottle and asked me if I wanted another drink before we set off. I nodded once as I had been trained and was rewarded with a smile and a refreshing swig of chilled water.

"This is going to be a fairly long run so I’ll take it easy with you, especially since this is your first time in harness. Just follow my lead like you did with Hugo and you’ll do fine. OK?"

Again I nodded once.

"My, you do look scrumptious in that outfit. Hugo knows how to decorate a female," she said. She smiled and ran her fingers over my breasts, paying special attention to the gold plates that bound my nipples to the outfit. It was a sexual experience I had never had the pleasure of. But I actually found myself enjoying the gesture. Suddenly I found a previously undiscovered craving for attention. I don’t know why I liked having her admire my body. I just did.

Marie took my reins and climbed into the coach. I soon felt the engine come to life. A moment later I felt the bars lift me nearly off the ground before lowering until my feet touched hard earth again. This, Hugo would explain later, was a calibration process. The system applied lift until half my weight was taken up by the bars that were attached to the harness.

Marie pulled back on the reins to put the cart in reverse. I pushed backwards with my hips until she let my reins go slack. Suddenly the cart’s brakes were applied. I soon felt a hard tug on the left rein and a short buzz between my legs. The exercise had begun again.

My initial pace was far too fast for Marie. She quickly took control and forced me to slow by pulling on the reins. "Keep the pace slow. Knees high," Marie yelled as I marched. She hit the buzzer again to emphasize the point. I tried my best to please her. But a moment later she hit the buzzer again. "Keep your chin off your collar," she ordered. I did as I was told and kept marching. Soon I felt the reins tighten and again I felt the buzzer. "Slow down," she yelled. "Lift your knees gracefully. Try and swing your knees up to the horizontal, but slowly," she yelled.

Just before reaching the first intersection both carts passed me and turned left toward the center of the field. They were obviously working the girls much harder. Since each cart had twice the horsepower, literally, I assumed they could pull the carts much faster. Then again, I thought, maybe that was the norm. Perhaps they were just being easy on me since this was my first day. I had the feeling that I’d be trotting much faster in the future once they got me in shape.

Suddenly I realized there were an additional three carts running up the path towards us. Each was pulled by two girls dressed identically to us. The only real difference was the color of the carts. While ours were gold, silver, and red, all of theirs were green. I couldn’t pay much attention to them. I had my own work to do. Marie reminded me by giving me another disciplinary buzz to gain my attention.

By the time I had reached the halfway point I must have been disciplined a dozen times. Marie and I had difficulty getting our signals straight but eventually I was marching pretty much to her satisfaction. Only occasionally did I get buzzed on the return trip to the barn, at least until I got to the final two hundred yards. By that time I was getting exhausted and I began to loose form. Marie wouldn’t allow me the pleasure of marching without lifting my knees, nor would she allow me to drop my chin. Instead she began ‘encouraging’ me to improve my performance.

"Almost there, Casey. You can do it. Just another fifty yards. Keep your knees up," she said as she zapped me again. That building looked so good. If she’d only let me pick up the pace. Instead she held me back. My legs felt like they were bound in iron. But I did the full lap!

Once again I was parked under the awning and allowed to rest. Marie made certain that I had my fill of water. I now had worked up quite a sweat. Marie took a towel and wiped my face gently, being careful not to mess up my makeup.

"We’ll let you rest for another few minutes before Paul takes you on the final march. You did really well. I’m proud of you, Casey. Just keep following orders and you’ll be fine," she said.

A moment later Paul and Hugo pulled their coaches under the awning and I suddenly had company. They quickly glanced at me then disappeared into the barn, leaving the five of us to rest on our feet. I could barely see the other girls because the collar prevented me from turning my head. But I could hear them panting. Apparently they had been worked hard just like I had.

Fifteen minutes later the three of them exited the barn and approached us. Again they traded off. Of course, Paul would finish the ride. He approached me with Marie and admired my body. Hugo went directly to his coach. With Marie and Paul attending to me I didn’t see him leave.

"She is amazing," Paul commented. "I haven’t seen anyone so perfect since Michelle in ’07. Look at her stature. Those long leggings and those heels suit her beautifully. Don’t you think?" he asked Marie.

"Yes Dear. I think we’ll both enjoy her company. But we are running late. Best to get her back to the house. She needs to be fed and I do have a dinner party to arrange for this weekend."

"You’re quite right. Let’s get going, shall we?"

It was eight hundred yards to the house. Paul intended that I maintain proper form all the way there and punished me every few seconds if I didn’t keep my knees up. "Higher steps if you please, Casey," he yelled. And I complied.

Every muscle in my body ached from the exercise. But Paul paid no mind to my grunts and panting. Instead he urged me on, forcing me to maintain a pace to his liking, a pace just a bit faster than a normal walking speed. The harness helped by taking some of the weight off my feet. But I was still in heels and my toes were getting sore. Add to that the fact that I had to keep my head high. Every time I failed to do so Paul punished me.

By the time I pulled the cart into the house I could hardly stand on my own two feet. I didn’t hurt much but I was exhausted! The only thing holding me up was the support of the bars attached to my hips. My shoulders and neck were another story. Having my arms pulled back and my arms attached to my butt caused me to lean forward and arch my back. After an hour or so of running around like this my entire upper body ached in more places than it didn’t. And I won’t even talk about my pierced nipples and my crotch!

All of the riders, Hugo, Marie, and Paul, left us alone for a few minutes. We were still attached to our carts. I sorely hoped that we weren’t being rested for another run. I somehow doubted that was the case since it was starting to get quite warm outside. Putting this fact together with the way we were dressed made me think that we were done with this session. Fortunately, I was correct.

Hugo and two trainers returned ten minutes later and disconnected us from the carts. We were all led upstairs to our rooms. Hugo waved the transmitter in front of me and gave me the hand signal to walk normal. I took the hint and followed him upstairs.

As I followed him into the room he pointed to the ground with one finger. I immediately and obediently knelt on my right knee. He pushed a button on the transmitter and threw it on the bed. Apparently he had disarmed the device.

Hugo walked over to the wooden shelf and returned with the special training collar. I knew what that meant. "Before I can let you have your breakfast I need to give you another oral training session. Let’s get you set up and we’ll get this over with. Stand up."

Hugo removed all the chains except the ones running from my nose to my earrings. Then he removed the collar and the head gear. He then encircled my neck with the new collar which had the spoons attached for my mouth. I didn’t resist as he inserted the metal loops into my mouth and pulled the straps tight. This time though he didn’t attach anything to my tongue. That was a surprise.

"Kneel. This will be a short session," he said. "I’m going to do your mouth quickly. I want you to extend your tongue voluntarily and do as you were trained yesterday. If you can’t handle that, I’ll get the tongue leash and make you do it properly. Now, tilt your head as far back as you can so I can get into your throat."

"Throat?" My eyes opened wide with that comment but I was helpless to offer any resistance. I was scared. Then again, he hadn’t hurt me in the last encounter. So I let him do his thing. I extended my tongue and began sucking him as I had done the day before. Once he had gotten hard he forced himself completely into my mouth. I gagged. "Breathe through your nose," he warned. I tried. He backed off and I gasped for breath. "Let’s try this again," he said without removing his cock from my mouth. Again he forced himself deep. Again I choked and again he backed off, leaving himself in my mouth. "Eye contact, Casey," he ordered.

I looked up at him timidly. In one sense I was scared. On the other, I understood his motives and I wanted to please him. So I tried to submit to his will. When he did it a third time I was prepared. I didn’t gag and I didn’t resist. I performed the task calmly and businesslike. When he pulled away I was proud of what I had accomplished. It felt as if I had just graduated to another level. When I saw his smiling face, I knew I had.

"Good girl," he said. "Let’s get you out of this gear.

It took several minutes to remove all the gear. He had to unscrew the bolts that held the rings in my nipples and he had to remove the head harness too. He even removed the tail and both dildos. Eventually I was completely naked. He pointed to the bathroom and told me to brush my teeth and shower thoroughly. "I’ll get you some breakfast in the meantime. Here’s your robe. Your breakfast will be in the hall," he said.

After that strenuous session in harness, the hot water felt luxurious. I let the water flow over my body and wash away all the stiffness in my shoulders and legs. After a few minutes of allowing the water to loosen my muscles I suddenly remembered that breakfast was being served. I decided to quicken my pace and finish. I toweled off quickly, using the blow dryer on my hair and brushing thoroughly. I threw the black silk robe over my body, gave the sash a tie, and headed toward the office.

I found Hugo sitting at the long thin table eating his breakfast. All the other girls were there similarly dressed in black silk robes. On the table in front of Hugo was a tray containing a plate of scrambled eggs, two slices of French toast, and two strips of bacon. A similar tray sat on the table across from him, obviously waiting for me. It all looked delicious.

"This is yours. Have a seat," he said between bites, pointing to the food across from him. Sandra was seated next to my chair. She looked up at me and smiled before returning to her meal. I took my seat near the end of the table.

The meal was not bad. I can’t exactly say it was healthy but it hit the spot. Sandra offered me a piece of fruit from one of the many baskets. I chose an orange. Hugo grabbed a small bran muffin and placed it in front of me as well. "We insist you eat one serving of bran and one piece of fruit at each meal. You have four hours before the next meal so eat up."

There was a lot of idle chatter during breakfast. I could hear little with all the noise. Every sound seemed to echo from one side of the room to the other. It was as if we were in trying to talk in a tunnel, which I suppose we were.

"Are you still leaving?" I asked Sandra.

"Yes, I have two weeks left. I suppose I’ll miss the place," she yelled over the noise.

"The money will help," I said.

"Maybe, but after three years of being with all these people it’s hard. I don’t know if the luxury is worth it."

I looked up at all the people at the table. I somehow got the feeling I knew what she was talking about, even though I had only been here for a day. Still, money meant a lot. "You could always stay, couldn’t you?"

"I’ve thought of that. I haven’t seen the outside world as a free woman in three years. While I don’t mind the occasional bondage session, I’m starving for a little free time. You know what I mean?"

"Yea, I think I do," I said.

Hugo spoke. "You know, I may have something for you, Sandra. I have this new venture that I’ve just started. I just finished negotiations with a group of acceptance corporations that do the loans for the casinos. I’m building a facility for bondage fantasies called the Vegas Riding Academy."

"I’m listening," she said.

"Well, we take beautiful women who happen to be heavily in debt and put them under contract to provide certain services to very wealthy customers."

"Isn’t that illegal, as in prostitution?" I asked.

"No, not if there’s no penetration below the waist. Besides, most of it will be ponygirl stuff, sort of what we do here."

"And what would my role be?" Sandra asked.

"Well, we need trainers. These people haven’t had any experience with this sort of stuff, at least most haven’t. Your job would be one of both trainer and monitor. You’ll teach the girls how to please and then you’ll make sure things don’t get out of hand. In other words, you get to watch."

"I might consider it. When are you going live with this?"

"Memorial Day, next year. I need to know by March of next year if you’re interested."

"I’ll think about it," she said. I had the feeling she would have her mind made up well before then.

Chapter 7: A Walk in the Sun

Hugo escorted me back to my room and told me that there wasn’t going to be any activity for an hour. He did warn me to remain on the upper floor. He further warned me that if I violated that rule I would not like the results. He didn’t explain himself beyond that but I got the impression that he meant what he said.

I spent the next hour relaxing in the lounge chair watching TV. There were some old game shows on which I liked. I flipped through the channels mindlessly, just killing time. I must have nodded off during that hour because Hugo surprised me with a nudge to wake me.

Hugo already had taken the few items I would need from the closet and laid them on the bed. First, of course, I had to remove my robe. Then he placed simple leather cuffs on my wrists. These buckled with standard leather straps. Next he had me put on a pair of five inch heeled mini-boots. They barely covered my ankles. I thought they looked ugly to be truthful but I didn’t really have any say in the matter. Next he mounted the self-contained following dildo, which he armed. He connected my hands behind me and inserted a strapless rubber pear gag into my mouth. The end had a metal ring which stuck out of my mouth and flopped onto my lower lip.

"Just a normal walk, Casey," he demanded as we marched out of the room.

Our destination was the solarium on the second floor. Before heading out onto the deck Hugo had me lay on a leather covered table. He quickly applied tanning oil to all exposed skin, front and back. Soon my skin had a beautiful shine to it.

When we stepped through the doors we were greeted with the afternoon sun. I’ve never experienced such heat without the accompanying humidity. It almost felt nice. It certainly wasn’t oppressive as such heat would be in the east. Instead it felt like a heat lamp. It warmed my bones and muscles in a soothing fashion. I actually enjoyed its warmth.

I had seen the rack earlier. What I had not seen was the overhead track that had a single bar hanging from it. He had me lift my hands over my head. Then he connected my wrists to the ends of the bar. He disarmed the dildo and then removed my gag. That surprised me.

Hugo walked over to a shaded lounge chair and started the contraption. "Keep your knees up, Casey. We want the sun to get to those inner thighs," he told me.

"Yes, Hugo," I responded obediently. I began lifting my knees and walking around the track. The track was laid out in a kidney shaped pattern that was roughly twenty feet wide by forty feet long. I had to march with my arms lifted above my head. As if this wasn’t bad enough I also had to lift my knees now. I did it because he told me. That was my job. It wasn’t fear. It was duty.

"I’ll have you march for twenty minutes before your first break. I know you’re tired from the morning run so I’ll just have you high-step for a few minutes. As you get better conditioned I’ll have you do it for a longer period of time."

"Yes, Hugo."

"So, how do you like your first day so far?" he asked.

The question surprised me and I really didn’t have an answer. "I don’t know," I said. "I’m OK, I guess."

"That’s it? If you don’t have anything to say I’ll put the gag back in."

"So what do you want me to talk about?" I asked.

"I want to know how it felt to be treated like this. After all, you’ve never done this stuff before. You’ve never been bound and gagged, right?"

"No, that’s right," I said as I began making the first turn. "I’ve never experienced this kind of treatment."

"When others saw you bound like a horse while you were marching this morning, how did you feel? Tell me something I don’t know."

"To be truthful, with all the distractions I didn’t really pay attention to that fact. All the girls were dressed alike. It actually felt like a costume more than anything else. It didn’t bother me at all."

"Good," he said as I began the turn to come back to the starting point. "Now tell me how you felt about the sex," he demanded.

"I didn’t like it. But it’s part of the job," I said truthfully.

"Yes, it is. But we’re not too rough, I don’t believe."

"This morning was difficult," I said.

"Deep-throating often is. We don’t do that too often though. For the first few weeks you’ll find the act being performed more often though, just so you get accustomed to it. You’ll find the act most commonly performed at the parties, albeit under close supervision."

I must have been marching for ten minutes now and I began to labor in my strides. "I’m getting tired," I complained, panting as I spoke. Still, I kept my knees rising as best as I could.

"OK, half steps now, Casey. I’ll slow the pace a little. Oh, and this is a little punishment for complaining about being tired," he said. Suddenly I felt the buzzer go off between my legs. Of course it was just annoying. I understood though. He was essentially telling me to keep my mouth shut about being tired. "I’ll decide when you’re tired enough to slow down next time, clear?" he said in a much more polite tone than I expected. Obviously he wasn’t angry. He was just being a good trainer.

"Yes, Hugo," I replied to his question.

"A little more effort in your strides, Casey. Let me hear your feet hit the tiles firmly," he said, punctuating the order with another jolt from the buzzer. I quickly began stomping my feet as ordered. He praised me but ordered me to lift my legs more slowly. Eventually I began to please him with my march. I would raise my knee half way then firmly stomp my foot while moving forward. In the meantime I grasped the bar that was just over my head, always looking forward.

Eventually Hugo stopped the march and disconnected me from the bar. "Go sit on the pillows by the bench," he ordered. There was a huge pile of pillows on the floor right next to where Hugo had been sitting. It was there I would sit and rest. At least that’s what I thought.

"Keep your eyes on me, Casey. You must maintain eye contact at all times with your master, clear?" he asked.

"Yes sir," I said.

Suddenly his smile turned to a frown. "Don’t ever call me sir!" he said in a sort of stern and slightly angry tone. "Ever! Casey, It’s time you learned to concentrate on your status as a slave and do your job. I’m sorry you have to learn this way but I really have no choice." With that, I watched as he pressed the button on the transmitter. Suddenly I felt both buzzing and shocks between my legs. I grabbed my crotch and rolled on my side. But the shocks and buzzing didn’t stop because he didn’t let go of the button!

The pain wasn’t nearly as terrible at first but it was consistent and varying. I was unable to get used to it because different parts of the dildo were shocking me. In addition, it felt much worse because it was inside me where I couldn’t touch or massage it. What this all meant was that I couldn’t get used to it. It did not subside as time passed. If anything it got worse!

I went for the bolts that held the dildo inside me but I needed a special tool to remove them. My efforts were futile. I could think of nothing but the pain between my legs. It hurt so much I couldn’t even scream because it took my breath away!

"Eye contact!" he yelled at me. "And get your hands away from that dildo, NOW!"

I was panting and yelping at the same time. From my side I forced myself to look up at him. I slowly pulled my hands away from my crotch and tried to stifle a scream. I grimaced from the pain. It did not stop. He continued to punish me.

"Up on your haunches. Sit back on your heels, Casey. You can do it," he said in a calm tone. Still I felt the jolts between my legs.

I slowly rose, shaking like a leaf. I pushed myself up onto my knees and sat back with legs clenched together. Apparently this didn’t please him at all because a moment later, while looking directly at him, he increased the level of pain.

"Casey, look at me! Keep those eyes on me, I said!"

I was shaking and my mouth was hanging open. I looked up at him and sat back as best as I could. He reduced the pain slightly but kept the shocks and the buzzer going.

"Now, get your legs apart so I can see that pretty pussy of yours. Come on, you can do it."

I pushed my knees apart with my trembling hands, all the time looking up at him. "Please," I begged in a shallow, halting voice. My request was answered in part. The pain subsided, but not completely. Apparently he wanted me to suffer still, although to a lesser degree. Thankfully the pain and the low-pitched buzzing were at an acceptable level now.

He allowed this to continue for a minute or so. In that time I kept my hands on my knees and my eyes on his face. But I did catch my breath and I did relax somewhat. Suddenly the pain ceased. I took a deep breath.

"Answer this question. And do it correctly, Casey. What have you just learned?" He stared at me patiently, knowing full well what I had learned. He just wanted me to say it as a reinforcement of the painful lesson just delivered.

"Hugo," I addressed him, my voice cracking in the process with tears streaming down my face. "I’ve learned to address you properly and treat you much more respectfully. I know now that you can hurt me, and that scares me. I didn’t expect this level of pain. Now I’m afraid, Hugo."

"You’re afraid of me?"

"Yes, Hugo. You hurt me. I don’t understand. I know I did wrong by addressing you improperly but it wasn’t that much of an infraction was it?"

"No, that’s not why I did this to you. I did it because you haven’t been acting submissively enough around me. You treat me as your equal rather than as your superior. I’ve had to tell you countless times to maintain eye contact, to address me properly before asking questions or issuing answers. You need to understand your stature. You are a sex slave. Your role here is to sexually arouse the person in control of you by being obedient, by dressing in the outfits and bondage gear you’re ordered to wear, and by opening your mouth and performing oral acts for anyone who asks. That’s your job. That’s how you will earn your money. My job is to make sure that you understand your role. I will use whatever tools I can to get that job done. If a kind word won’t convince you to be obedient, then I’ll press the buttons on this remote to drive the point home. I only have two ways to convince you to do as you’re told. Which one I use is up to you."

"I’m sorry, Hugo. I’ll try harder next time," I said submissively.

"Better! Now sit back on your heels and try and relax for a few minutes. Then we can finish the tanning session."

Five minutes later I was marching again. He simply had me do the half-step march for the entire session. He reminded me to stomp my feet with every step. I did as he ordered, knowing that any disobedience would result in a painful repeat of the lesson just learned. The march lasted twenty minutes, after which he inserted the strapless gag in my mouth and bound my hands behind my back with a metal snap loop.

I followed him to his room where I immediately dropped to my right knee. He signaled me by pointing one finger to the carpet while pressing a button on the dildo transmitter. I took the hint. He seemed pleased.

At this point I wasn’t sure if I was in the doghouse or not. Let me rephrase that, lest someone get an idea to make me bark and wag my tail. I wasn’t sure if I was still in trouble or if I had made Hugo unsure of my commitment to serve. To be truthful, after be tortured I wasn’t quite sure myself. I now understood fully how total they could control me. As long as they had that thing bolted to my groin I had to act like the submissive slave. I really didn’t have a problem with that before I was punished. I couldn’t understand why I did now. Anyway, my immediate need was to concentrate on what Hugo wanted.

"We’ll be doing another oral session, Casey. Crawl over to the chair and I’ll get your collar," he said.

While he disappeared into the closet to retrieve the special collar I was all too familiar with, I dropped to both knees and knee-walked over to the chair he had indicated. Of course with my hands bound behind my back it was a difficult task. But I managed.

Once he had returned he installed the collar and inserted the metal hooks into my mouth. He didn’t use the tongue leash this time though. Still, my mouth was propped obscenely open. Without being told, I stuck my tongue out past my lower lip and prepared to accept his actions. It was my signal to him that I agreed to this act.

This time I didn’t need to be reminded about eye contact. I concentrated on looking at his face and tried my best not to waver in that regard. I allowed him to position me to his liking and felt him pull me toward him. I extended my tongue by habit and began mouthing his organ.

I suppose he preferred to lecture me while I was held between his knees. I assumed it was that captive audience thing. Anyway, the conversation was a bit one sided since I couldn’t exactly express my opinion, considering. It went something like this.

"I won’t apologize for punishing you, although I admit it was a much more severe punishment that you might normally receive. I wanted to emphasize the fact that you have to be much more submissive to me and the rest of the crew. I’m not mad at you and I’m not frustrated either. This is your first day after all. As days and weeks pass you’ll understand your position in this household. You’ll get an instinctive feel for when you can push the envelope and when you must grovel."

Hugo:

Her oval shaped mouth looked so innocent wrapped around my cock. And the eyes did not wander, always looking up to me. They looked so pleading, so frightened. She kept eye contact as I had trained her.

As I petted her, I smiled at this image of the perfect sex slave. She calmly accepted my ministrations without hesitation or revulsion. I fully knew that she did not enjoy being treated in this manner. No woman enjoys being gagged by a man in this way. But she was learning to be submissive and I was her teacher. She was more than my responsibility. She was my creation.

"You may begin, Casey. Just a little light attention to start, if you please. And keep your upper teeth clear. We’ll increase the pace shortly."

I entangled my fingers in her ponytail and began moving her head in and out. This had the effect of pistoning my cock in and out of her mouth. I let this continue for only a moment. Then the urge hit me and I ordered her to full steam. I immediately felt her increased level of effort. A few moments later I stared down at her and watched her throat spasm. Her eyes never strayed.

Casey:

The ordeal was over for the time being. I was released from my bonds and told to shower once more. I took advantage of the toothbrush and mouthwash as well. Hugo allowed me to wear a black silk robe and told me I was ‘out of scene’ for now. I was allowed to act as a normal person without the restrictions or protocol of acting the role of a slave, in other words.

While I had showered Hugo retrieved a light chef’s salad from the meeting room as well as a glass of fruit punch and an apple. I was starving and wanted more but he said I was only allowed a certain number of calories for lunch. I didn’t have much say in the matter.

The time was approaching 1:30. Hugo said he had other duties but would be back at four. Marie and Paul were to make use of me at that time. He told me to try and rest as best as possible. I had a long day ahead.

I killed the time by watching TV and wandering around the room. I wandered into the closet and checked out the wardrobe and bondage gear more thoroughly. I noticed that there were many leather outfits, all of which were made with quality workmanship. The boots impressed me was well. There were twenty pairs of thigh high boots, nearly all sporting stiletto heels. The remainder had the clear Cuban heels I had worn while marching in harness. These boots were in four colors; red, black, silver, and gold. I don’t know why but I expected more. They all were suspended on long poles, each heel pointing upward.

Included in the wardrobe were long, elegant dresses. There was nothing kinky or unusual about them except, perhaps, for the quality of the gowns. They were exquisite. With all the exotic gear it took me by surprise to find any outfits that weren’t of a fetish nature. Suddenly I began rummaging through the drawers. I discovered something, or more precisely, discovered what was missing from the collection of outfits. There were absolutely no casual clothes to be had. There was not one pair of jeans, t-shirts, or even a pair of sneakers to be had. In other words, as long as I was here I’d either wear bondage gear, formal dress, or nothing at all!

I decided to watch some TV and relax as much as possible. I wanted to conserve my energy. I knew that the day was far from over and that Hugo and the rest of the crew were not done with me. I didn’t know exactly what was in store but I had a pretty good idea considering what Hugo had been training me for. And I already knew that I’d end the night with another trot in harness. I was still aching from the first run.

While I was watching a maid walked into the apartment unannounced. She was dressed in a bright red vinyl outfit accompanied by fishnet stockings and red five inch heels. "Don’t get up," she said as she began tidying up the room.

"I’m Casey," I said, trying to break the ice.

"I’m Dina. You’re new," she said.

"Just got in yesterday."

"You get the full treatment?" she asked.

"You could say that. That’s a pretty bright outfit," I pointed out.

"Yea. That’s my own fault."

"Excuse me?"

"I couldn’t stay away from the slots so I have to stay here during the week."

"I don’t understand."

"I gamble. I ran up a huge debt so I took up a weekend job at the riding academy so I could pay things off. But I couldn’t stay away from the slot machines so they keep me here playing kinky maid during the weekdays. I don’t like it but it’s better than having them put a lien on my mansion."

"Are you rich?"

"You could say that."

"Then why not just sell something or take out a loan?"

"Well, it’s really not something I’d prefer to discuss. Let’s just say I’ve traveled that route and I’m a little overextended. Anyway, I really don’t have time to talk about it. I have three more rooms to do. So if you’ll excuse me," she said as she gathered the discarded boots and leather garments into a large wicker basket. A minute later she looked at the time with wide eyes then left suddenly. Obviously they had her on a strict schedule. I assumed they would punish her if they felt she was not doing her job quickly enough.

Chapter 8: Teacher’s Pet

It was almost 4:30 when Hugo returned. I was kind of glad to see him since I was beginning to get bored. TV wasn’t exciting but to be truthful I was a little anxious about the next scene since I didn’t know what to expect. Hugo gave me the details.

"You’re going to be Marie’s pet. I’m not sure if she’ll let you attend to Paul but you will most certainly attend to her. She’s pretty strict so try and pay attention. Now, go into the bathroom and prepare yourself for the plugs."

Marie:

I always enjoyed the first full session with my slaves. It was this session where they displayed their most genuine fears and emotions. The look of anxiety in their eyes just as I would push their face between my knees was a sight that was simply priceless. The girls were never Lesbians. I wouldn’t allow it. I wanted to invoke fear and apprehension in them. That enhanced the power trip. I found being in control of another human being to be the ultimate sexual experience. All these slaves did as I wished. It was a delicious feeling!

The first session would be solo. No other slaves were present. Paul was here though. We had agreed on certain terms with Hugo and set up rules to ensure safety at all times. During the moments of passion I knew that I might stray beyond the path of common sense and prudence. Paul and Hugo were here as observers to make certain I didn’t go too far.

My new slave’s approach was announced by the sound of heels in the hallway. Hugo had specifically laid parquet flooring throughout the house for this express purpose. The sound of heels was an erotic appetizer that was to be savored before the meal. I smiled at Paul when I heard the wondrous sound.

The sight I beheld was absolutely breathtaking as Hugo led Casey into our presence. She was dressed in a metallic burgundy outfit. Starting with her legs, they were encased in dark reddish purple hip length leather boots sporting six-inch heels. Metallic flecks glimmered within the finish. Above that her corset was made of a solid fiberglass material. Its color tended more toward the reddish end of the spectrum than the rest of the outfit to set it off. Gold cones that were attached to her nipples by large gold rings capped the two luscious mounds. A burgundy collar made of a hard plastic material encircled her throat. Its color also had metallic flecks in it. The fit was perfect, not allowing an inch of movement from her head and forcing her to keep her chin high and proud. A large single gold ring was securely mounted to the front of the collar.

Her arms were bound in a strange way. They were pulled behind as was usual but instead of using an arm-binder, the corset had a built-in case that enclosed her arms behind her back. In fact, there were even plastic covers for the shoulders. Not one inch of skin was visible from her neck to her waist.

Burgundy leather straps that held a large oval ring in her mouth bound her head. It was of the common design with straps running down both sides of her nose, under her chin, and from cheek to cheek behind her neck. The interesting thing about the harness and gag assembly was the large plug that filled her mouth. I had seen this gag before and was quite familiar with it. It was a penis gag. But it had a special feature. Coming out of the gag was a foot long chain leash terminating in a leather strap. Inside her mouth, the other end of the leash was attached to her tongue and was at this time pulling the tongue into a wide slot inside the dildo. A white button on the end of the gag held the chain securely and kept the tongue under constant tension. I’m sure she hated this gag as all the girls did.

Finally I examined her lower holes. Both front and rear were securely plugged as usual. I noticed the red light on the front dildo indicating it was armed. This would keep Casey obediently close to whoever held the transmitter.

I rose from my seat as Hugo had Casey stand in the center of the room. "Remain standing, Casey," he ordered.

Even with my five-inch heels she was at least two inches taller than me. She had to look down the bridge of her nose to maintain eye contact with me. I noticed that she indeed tried very hard to keep her eyes on me. I considered it a good sign. She was concentrating on her role.

I had to keep things moving. We had a number of things to cover and we still had to get her fed and rested before the evening trot. I wanted at least two hours between the meal and the exercise. The activity would be quite strenuous and I didn’t want to risk having her get the cramps. But still I wanted to admire Hugo’s work.

"You did a marvelous job," I told Hugo as I circled. "I really think this is your finest piece of art," I added.

"Thank you," he replied. "I’m not sure she can stay in it for long. There’s no ventilation in the torso section. It’s a bit heavy too. I’m working on a few ideas but I haven’t worked out all the details yet."

"For short term it looks pretty good though."

I circled the girl silently for a minute or two more. She was stunning.

"Casey, we’d better get started. Paul and Hugo will simply observe tonight. You’ll be serving me exclusively. Walk over to the couch and kneel in front of it. I’ll be right back."

She started walking to the couch obediently but suddenly stopped and groaned. I realized I had the transmitter on. "Sorry," I apologized as I turned the gadget off. "Go kneel in front of the couch and I’ll be right back."

I wanted to make sure I was properly cleaned for her attention and so I went to the washroom and cleaned myself up in that area. In addition I wanted to make the experience pleasant for her first trip below, if you can catch my drift. So, borrowing from an old method of perfume usage I had heard of on TV, I lightly coated my pussy with a few drops of vanilla extract. Now when she placed herself between my knees she’d smell something quite pleasant rather than something she was unfamiliar with. I hoped it cut down on the anxiety I knew she felt.

I returned to the couch and straddled the kneeling form. She immediately began looking at me, almost pleading with her eyes to ease the strain on her tongue. I was sure the gag was causing her a bit of discomfort but I knew its design well. I had tested it myself when it was originally created. Yes, it was uncomfortable and it was annoying. But it wasn’t dangerous in any way. I had made certain of this fact.

"Ok, let’s see what that pretty little tongue looks like," I said as I pressed the button and pulled the dildo out of her mouth. I was rewarded with a soft moan from the open mouth that was before me. I slid the dildo to the end of the leash and wiped her face with a soft cloth that I always kept handy.

Her mouth and tongue looked so inviting. Ok, I’ll admit to enjoying the physical sensation of having her tongue explore my loins, but in truth the power of controlling her and forcing her to do as I wished was far more exciting. In addition, I knew she didn’t want to do this. She wasn’t a Lesbian. She didn’t enjoy the act. In fact, I was quite certain she actually hated it!

It was time to exert some authority upon my slave. I looked down at her while gently pulling upward on the leash. Her eyes opened wide and I heard her groan from the painful pull on her tongue. This was the sweet-and-sour speech that I always gave my slaves upon their first encounter with me. "You’re doing fine, Casey," I said soothingly. "In a moment I’m going to put your head between my knees. I’m going to keep you there for quite some time, perhaps half an hour. During that time I want you to keep your tongue moving. If I don’t feel movement I’ll provide you with some encouragement through that little friend inside your pussy. On that note, if you stop for more and a few seconds I’ll consider it a deliberate act of disobedience. I won’t use the buzzer to warn you in that case, if you catch my drift."

I pulled her close to me and pressed her head into my crotch. I was wearing a special belt under my black leather skirt. When I had her head in position, I leashed her nose to it via a short chain leash. Only then did I reach underneath and disconnect the other leash from her tongue. "You may begin," I said sternly.

I paid close attention for a few minutes as she began using her tongue on my clit. She was hesitant to press her oval lips tightly against my sex at first. She was confused and frightened. And while I understood her hesitation, I couldn’t tolerate it if I wanted her to learn. So I hit the button on the remote for a few seconds and heard the strangled grunt that told me she was learning her role.

"Get your tongue deeper and press your lips against me. And keep those eyes looking up at me!"

She did as I said but she was now whimpering while she attended to me. This was a normal reaction also but I had to comfort her to some extent. I spoke in a calm voice.

"Good girl, you’re doing just fine. Just keep your concentration. Remember, you were told how this would go when I first briefed you. Don’t cry. It’s simply a physical act. Don’t treat it as anything more. A few weeks from now you’ll get used to these little scenes."

Casey:

This was disgusting! I was kneeling between this woman’s legs licking her sex. Oh God! How I wanted to get out of this mess. But I simply couldn’t. I had to endure this abuse if I wanted the million. I tried to keep my eyes on her and keep my tongue in contact with her clit. It was very hard to do this. I would get used to this? I couldn’t see how.

Hugo had prepared me by enclosing my upper body in a solid plastic shell. It was fairly light and didn’t seem to cause me any problems. In order to get into it though I had to lie down on the bed, fitting my breasts and stomach into the front of the shell as he mated the back section. He used a special tool to secure the many clasps that seemed to disappear into the design of the unit.

The front section had extensions that covered my shoulders in front. The back section had indentations that crossed in the back for my arms. Hugo arranged my arms into the slots and snapped several half-circle clasps in place to secure them. He arranged my arms so that my palms lay across each other at the center of my back. Once my arms were secure he covered them with a third piece of molded plastic.

The rest of the gear was pretty standard. I got a set of patent leather boots, a high plastic collar, and he gagged me with a ring equipped with a penis shaped plug. And I hated it all!

I kept reminding myself that all of this was necessary and that is how I endured. I let Hugo and friends dominate me, bind me, and torture me for one simple reason. There was a pot of gold, a million dollar pot to be more precise, at the end of the rainbow. The only problem with that was, as Hugo and a couple of the girls had mentioned, that if I didn’t find some way to enjoy the scene I wouldn’t make it to the end of the road. That bothered me. I didn’t know my own limits and I didn’t know exactly what was coming down the pike. Oh, I had a pretty good idea, but still, the anxiety was getting to me. Knowing that the last two girls didn’t last more than three days didn’t exactly help either.

Eventually we made it into Marie’s parlor and I knelt between her knees. I had never done this sort of thing before. As she pressed my face into her loins I became extremely apprehensive. Still, I mustered enough courage to stick my tongue out and touch her flesh. I tasted and smelled vanilla extract. It smelled sort of nice and, I assumed, masked any body odor that might have been present. Marie was obviously considerate of my situation and obviously wanted to eliminate at least one sensory aversion.

She wanted more though. She forced me to keep looking up at her. This required tremendous concentration. She didn’t want me to look at her sex. She wanted me to look up into her eyes. This required me to pivot my head upward. But with my nose firmly attached by a chain to her waist, the action caused me to drive my lips into firm contact with her labia and clit.

My tongue movements must have slowed beyond her liking for a few minutes after attaining the correct position she pressed a button on the remote and drove a painful shock into my loins. I groaned loudly. "A little faster, Casey," was all she said.

Eventually, with the encouragement and threat of painful jolts, Marie had me doing exactly as she liked. She only had to zap me three more times but eventually I understood what she wanted and complied. I didn’t find the effort nearly as difficult as I had anticipated. But I still didn’t like doing it.

After a few minutes I was suddenly put into the dark. Marie took her leather skirt and pulled it over my face. Then I felt a weight against my head as she laid a book on top of me and began reading. I felt disoriented and distracted by all this and lost track of what I was doing. Obviously Marie wasn’t distracted because I suddenly felt a painful shock between my legs. "Back to work!" she yelled angrily. I extended my tongue and did as she asked.

Apparently Hugo had not left. "How’s she doing?" he asked.

"Fair," Marie responded. "Her enthusiasm is obviously lacking but that should improve over time, assuming she lasts."

"She’ll be fine. You shouldn’t worry about such things. I know we’ve had some weak subjects recently but those things happen. You should have seen her do me this morning. She doesn’t have any problem with lip service."

"Do you think we’re ready to present her to Paul?" she asked.

"Tomorrow perhaps. I haven’t done her without the chocks and I want to be sure she won’t buck. I’m sure she’ll be ready by week’s end."

"Good. Why don’t you meet me in the dining room in an hour? I’m going to keep her for a dinner pet."

"We’re doing evening work," he reminded her.

"Oh, I forgot. Let me have a few more minutes. You can get her fed and equipped while Paul and I eat dinner."

"No problem. I’ll get her a meal from the kitchen. Why don’t you take her back to her room when you’re finished with her?"

"I’ll meet you up there."

Chapter 9: The Evening Trot

Marie was meticulous about procedure. It was only a hundred yard walk to my room, a short five minute walk at most. Yet she insisted I be properly gagged before returning to my chamber. I watched as she slid the plug up to my lips and inserted it. At the same time I felt my tongue being pulled into the slot inside the penis shaped device. When she had finished my tongue was held firmly captive, an unpleasant but all too familiar situation as of late.

At that point she had me stand and take up a position behind her and to her right. I observed that she placed the remote on her belt near her right hip. A simple hand signal was all it took to get me marching in the half-step mode. Yet she didn’t move. She remained with her back to me, listening to the sound of my feet hitting the floor. Even with her back to me, I knew she was enjoying the clip-clop echo of the hollow soles of the shoes. Her body language spoke volumes in this regard.

Eventually we began the short walk to the bedroom. Marie didn’t say a single word to me during the entire trip. She simply walked on, knowing that I’d follow. I had to. Failure to remain within six feet of her would result in an annoying buzzing between my legs followed by a painful jolt should I fall behind much farther. The walk was not that simple though. If I got too close I’d lose sight of her right hand. I needed to see her hand so that I could obey her signals. But I couldn’t see well because my chin was held so high and the straps from the head harness kept blocking my view. In addition, Marie was substantially shorter than Hugo so her hands hung lower. What this meant was that I had to move to the limit of my invisible electronic leash in order to keep an eye on her fingers. I constantly received the warning jolts from the dildos. I don’t know if this scene was meant to torment me but if it was then Marie and Hugo had designed a devilish torture.

We eventually returned to my room. Marie walked straight to the window and pointed one finger to the ground. I knelt like the obedient pet that I had become. Still she said not one word. She simply petted my hair and gazed at the fading scenery.

To be truthful, I really couldn’t explain my feelings at this stage of my training. I knew what they wanted. They wanted me to live the part rather than act it. Yet I was still role-playing. I was hired to be a slave and I was doing my ‘job’ as best I could manage. Yet they wanted more. Certainly Marie wanted more.

Marie wanted me to be devoted to her as a pet would love her mistress. She wanted to dehumanize me. That’s what I read from her actions. To a certain extent I resented it. She was asking me to sacrifice my humanity. I was being asked to act in an unbelievably depraved manner, on command no less. It wasn’t something I would do without great persuasion.

Yet here I knelt, obediently waiting for the next command. I was sucking on a plastic cock with my tongue stretched to the limit. In a short time I’d have the real thing in my mouth, a requirement before each meal according to the information that Hugo had given me. And after a quick meal I was going to be harnessed just like a horse, complete with bit and tail. How much more like an animal can one get? And this was the daily routine. I was a sex slave and I had committed myself to endure these tribulations. I wasn’t going to quit. I wanted the million bucks that bad!

It was nearly 8:00 when Hugo had taken me downstairs. Hugo had stripped me of the plastic cuirass and the collar. He had also removed my boots and my head harness. For that I was very grateful. My tongue had endured all it could stand by that point. The only things he didn’t remove were the dildos. He told me I’d be wearing them till I went to bed. I suppose I’d be walking funny for another couple hours.

I serviced him of course, although this time I wore no chocks or training collar. Instead I simply knelt in front of him and opened my mouth. He gave me no instructions. I knew what to do based on the many time I had done him before. I didn’t have to perform the act for very long. Time was short and he wanted me to digest my meal before the evening events.

Dinner consisted of a small piece of broiled fish with roasted potatoes and lima beans. I didn’t like the beans but he insisted I clean my plate. Since I had eaten very little up till this point it didn’t take much persuading to get me to finish the meal. I wolfed down the apple and the banana he offered as dessert before washing it all down with three glasses of spring water, the only drink he would allow.

After dinner Hugo had me stand with my arms above my head while he performed a general inspection of my body. I had to open my mouth and allow him to check my teeth and my tongue. He used a flashlight for this. Next he felt my breasts. This was not an intimate inspection though. He was inspecting my breasts for lumps. The good doctor had trained him and all the other trainers in this regard. I was grateful when he told me I was fine. Of course he also inspected every ring that invaded my body. He checked every joint, my elbows and especially my knees and ankles for wear, even asking me to lift up on my toes while he felt each ankle. I didn’t really mind but it was a bother.

"As a rule, we generally let you have a half hour before getting you harnessed for the evening trot. But we’re very short on time so I’m going to get you rigged now. I’ll let you relax on your knees until we’re ready for you. Have to let you digest."

The gear he provided me was virtually the same as the pony outfit I had worn earlier that day. The colors of choice were black and red.

Hugo explained that the evening trot would start out while the air was quite warm. This explained the change. I didn’t wear a corset this time. Instead I wore a wide belly harness which sported a complex web of straps. These straps encircled my body, ringing my breasts in the process so they were well supported. My nipple rings were pulled through gold cones. Fine chains joined the rings. Small bells were attached to the rings as well.

The rest of the gear was similar. He gave me the hip-length pony boots to slip onto my legs. These boots were dark red in contrast to the black straps of the straps that secured my upper body. My arms were slipped into the arm bag similar to the one I had worn earlier, also dark red. Once secured, my fingers touched the elbows of the opposite arm. A stiff black collar was added. More black leather straps encircled my head and a red leather bit was presented. "Stick out your tongue, Casey," I heard him say. In a second my tongue was attached to the bit. He pulled it firmly into the corners of my mouth, forcing me to groan from the discomfort. He produced a pair of thick leather pads and attached them to the sides of my bridle, forcing me to look straight ahead.

As a final act he slipped the dildos back into my lower openings. Straps which hung from the belt were connected as well as wires which ran down my backbone from the arm binder. The rear dildo already sported the long blond tail as well. He opened a small pouch above my arms and inserted a battery, connecting the wires in the process.

He stood in front of me now, admiring his work. After smiling for a moment he said, "You know, I’ve changed my mind." He next pressed a button on the remote attached to his belt and I instantly felt a sharp thud between my knees which informed me that the dildos were armed. "I think I’d like some company for dinner."

Dinner was served in the common room of the same floor. It was where I had been served breakfast that morning. Only the trainers were there. I assumed the other sex slaves were in their rooms bound and equipped similar to me. Without prompting I knelt to the right of Hugo. The crowd didn’t seem to notice my obedient act, as if it were a common sight.

Suddenly one of the trainers noticed me. "’This your new project?" a tall blonde male asked. He was dressed in a white uniform.

"Yea. It’s only her second day but she’s learning. Aren’t you next in line, Greg?"

"Yes. I suppose I’ll be getting her after you’re done with her. What’s her name?"

"Casey. She’s from New York."

"So how’s she really doing?" Greg asked.

"Well, she’s pretty good in harness and she marches well. She follows hand signals promptly although she’s a bit slow for my taste. That should improve with practice."

"What about her oral skills?" Greg asked, obviously not talking about my speaking capabilities.

"She’s not bad. She lacks enthusiasm though. I might have to encourage her a bit. I might leave that up to you. I’m really just interested in getting her accustomed to doing it three or four times a day. That takes time."

"Maybe you’re too easy on her? I know your style. It works well but it takes time. If you’re impatient, let me have her early. I’ll bring her up to speed."

"I don’t think she’d stay if we went that route. I don’t think she’d think the money would be worth the abuse. I know your style as well, Greg."

"All I do is keep them gagged with rubber cocks, except when I have the time to insert a real one. They learn to hate the taste of rubber and embrace the real thing. It’s just aversion therapy. Try it on her for a week or so. She’ll come around. She won’t quit. It’s the method we’ve been using for quite some time. All our slaves have gone through the week of sucking. It has never been the bondage that made them quit. It’s the other stuff that causes problems."

"I don’t think she’s ready for that level of treatment. She’s not your average sex starved slave. She’s from more conservative roots," he commented.

"She’s not a virgin, is she?" someone said. It was a dark haired man sitting three seats down from Greg.

"No, she’s not, at least in the standard areas. She didn’t have any experience in the oral, anal, or bondage areas though. Considering our poor turnover rate, I’d prefer to go slow in some of these categories. Her pace is slow but it is acceptable."

"I suppose you’re right.  Let’s give her a few weeks and see what develops."

"We’ll resort to your method if she hasn’t improved after the thirty days are up." Suddenly Hugo looked up at the clock. "My God! Will you look at the time? We’d better get down to the carts."

I was not surprised by the topic of conversation, nor was I upset by it. Hugo was grooming me into becoming the best slave he could make out of me. Part of that was sexually satisfying the group. No, the idea of oral sex did not sit well with me. Hugo’s evaluation of my performance was correct in that regard. I didn’t understand how he could tell I wasn’t enthusiastic about the act. Could he see past all the leather straps and read my mind? Maybe he could read it in my eyes.

And what was this week of sucking? Was this for real or was it an idle threat? I had a feeling that this was all for real. One day in the not so distant future they would be inserting a rubber, anatomically correct tube into my mouth and I’d be dealing with the bitter rubber for a week or more. Just knowing the consequences of a lack of ‘enthusiasm’ was enough to improve my attitude. But then again, wasn’t that exactly what they wanted? 

Hugo’s signal forced me to stand and begin the march down to the lower level. There I was immediately connected to a four-wheel cart. I was the only pony there at that point. Hugo took advantage of the time by tightening all my straps and primping and combing my hair and false tail. Then he disappeared behind me. I felt his weight as he sat down but I felt no tension on the reins. He seemed to be waiting for the others.

A moment later I watched as two of the four remaining trainers led their ponies down the ramp to the remaining carts. Ten minutes later the final pair of ponies was brought down. These two girls were rigged to a larger cart in a side-by-side configuration. We all waited for an additional fifteen minutes before Marie and Paul arrived. We were all getting impatient at that point.

The larger cart was brought up beside mine while the other single cart was positioned on the farthest one from me. We assumed a line for Marie’s inspection. I assumed a proud, chin-high stance, prompted by Hugo’s sudden but steady pull on the reins. My training told me to look directly at her as soon as she stepped in front of me. My blinders would prevent my eyes from following her for very far. I was grateful in a sense. I couldn’t be blamed for losing eye contact when she walked past.

Marie:

I liked to do an inspection once or twice a week. With Casey now on her second march I felt it was as good a time as any. I wanted to see how well she was coping with the pony stuff. I needed to establish firmer control over her as well. I wanted her to stop thinking of me as a friendly, motherly woman and begin understanding that she was now my property.

I started by taking my remote and switching it to her frequency to take control of her dildos. She was now wearing twin powered dildos. Both front and rear could be set to buzz or shock. The battery held between her shoulder blades had plenty of power to maintain control over her for many hours.

As I pressed the button that made the link to her I saw her jump. The dildos had both delivered a sudden thud inside her. Her eyes opened wide at that point.

"I have control, Casey. Do exactly as I say. Knees together! Heels together!" I said, punctuating my commands with a quick press of the buzzer. "Better! When you come to attention I don’t want to see a millimeter of daylight from your knees to your heels. Now, stay like that until you’re told to march."

It felt so good to exercise my authority, to control her. It gave me that warm, wonderful feeling inside. Her eyes were focused on me and they followed me as I walked before her. Her head was rock steady and her nose was held up perfectly. That gold ring that hung from it was so tempting but I let it be. Instead I grabbed her reins and jerked her head up with my left hand. With my right I pressed my fingers behind her bit, checking to see how firmly it was seated in the corners of her mouth. It was extremely tight, just as it should have been. Hugo knew exactly how to rig a pony, of course. I just enjoyed checking to see how much distress my girls were put in. I was quite pleased.

"Now that you are wearing the new dildos we’ll be using them to give you your marching orders. Both dildos have small impact hammers that will move from side to side when I press certain buttons on the remote. We’ll use the front dildo to signal how high to lift your knees. Two thumps will signal a half-knee march while four thumps will signal a high-knee march. We will use the rear dildo to correct your posture and march. The thumping will provide head position signals and the buzzer will signal you as to how high you are lifting your knees. Single buzzes or thumps are a signal to lower your knees or head. Triple buzzes or thumps are a signal to raise your knees or head. Remember, thumps are for the head position and the buzzer is for the knees. Finally, we’ll use only the reins to control your speed. I know this is complicated but you catch on quickly."

I pulled her nose to nose with me and stared straight into her eyes. I saw fear in her and I felt her tremble. When I thought her anxiety was at its peak I broke into a smile suddenly. It caught her by surprise. I pushed her head upright to what I considered a proper position and walked on to the other girls, leaving her staring straight ahead.

The remaining inspections were not nearly as thorough. I knew I had spent far too much time with her but it was an enjoyable experience. Nonetheless I needed to pay some attention to the remaining females. I’m sure they understood the situation. The new girl needed special attention. I would make it up to the veterans at a later time.

I climbed into Casey’s cart and took the reins. With a signal the doors were opened and a blast of heated air assaulted us. The temperature outside had risen during the day to almost 105 F. and had hardly cooled to 85 by sunset. However, the temperature in the desert would drop quickly. By the end of the exercise the girls would be marching in mid-70 degree air. That was the reason behind the lighter outfits. Except for the hip-length boots they were almost totally exposed to the air.

I signaled Casey to execute a high-step march and engaged the helper motor. With a slight pull of the left rein I guided her through the door into the night air. It was already getting dark. Hugo flipped a switch and a pair of halogen lights illuminated the path ahead.

As prearranged, the other carts took the right path while we took the left. They would try and keep their distance, although we were certain to cross paths sooner or later. I wanted Casey to march solo so she would not be distracted.

We marched perhaps fifty yards before I pulled her to a stop for no apparent reason. Once we had halted I checked her heels. They were not touching. Neither were her knees. I immediately applied corrective punishment by pressing a button on the remote. I heard her scream past the bit. "Knees and heels," I yelled before zapping her again. There was a second moan. But she had understood. She immediately assumed as stiff position of attention. "Better! Don’t let me catch you making that mistake again," I yelled.

After a few seconds we resumed the high-step march down the path. Upon reaching the first intersection I had her turn right toward the center. After the turn I zapped her again and yelled at her. "You dropped your knees when you went around," I yelled. "Let’s try that again."

I pulled hard on the left rein and forced her to make a U-turn. There was hardly enough room on the path. One wheel actually went into the grass but the grass was laid on concrete so she didn’t have any problem completing the turn.

"Keep those knees up," I yelled as I pulled on the right rein. This turn was much better.

A moment later I stopped her. This time she came to perfect attention. But I didn’t praise her. I just let her stand there a moment before signaling for a half-step march. I increased the pace and ordered a slow canter. I also increased the lift of the pull bars, reducing her weight by ten pounds. I think she appreciated it.

Casey:

It had been a very long day yet it wasn’t over! I was in harness and I was expected to perform like a beast of burden. Never mind that I had been under their control for the entire day, bound and secured in a plastic shell, forced to service Marie and Hugo. Now I had to march like a pony. I was tired and it was frustrating. It was getting to me.

Marie demanded excellence. I learned this a second after she had begun her inspection. The dildos, both of them this time, were live. Getting zapped in my pussy was bad enough. But the anal plug hurt ten times worse. With both of them going off at the same time it felt like I was sitting on an open fire. Obviously it forced me to obey immediately.

Being tired I lost my concentration quickly. I knew how to march and I knew how to come to attention. But I was frustrated as well. I knew I wasn’t marching well and I forgot to stand properly at attention. The payment for that mistake immediately drew the wrath of Marie. She must have held the button down for five seconds. I was out of breath when she released it. I got the message and pulled my calves together immediately.

It was the marching that bothered me the most. It wasn’t the effort or even the knee-lifts I had to do. It was the dildos. Having two rods stuffed inside me was not fun when standing still. While marching they caused constant stimulation, not all of it enjoyable. Lifting my knees high just made things worse. The anal plug was especially painful as it stretched my rear. The long tail was quite heavy and when it swayed it pulled the plug in all different directions. This only added to the misery. The front dildo was connected to my nether lips and each movement caused it to shift inside me, pulling on the piercings. The dildo was ribbed also. This caused it to grab and release the tissues inside my tunnel. Normally this would cause sexual stimulation. But I was distracted by the concentration needed to march properly. I didn’t have time to relish an orgasm. Instead I had to concentrate on marching in a straight line, keeping my chin up, and lifting my knees in a way that would please the person who held the reins. There was only one reason that I took this abuse and marched to their orders. Money!

We were not fifteen minutes into the exercise. Marie had taken me to the left side of the field, leaving the other two carts to follow the other path. The exercise consisted of short walks in the high-step mode followed by a sudden stop. Obviously they were teaching me to come to attention. This was harder than I thought it would be because my arms were pinned behind me. I found it difficult to maintain my balance. The pull-bars helped though. Since they were connected to the hip belt I was able to use them to steady myself.

But pulling my legs tightly together caused another problem. In order to pull my knees and heels together I had to press my thighs together as well. That forced me to clench my loins tightly and that put pressure on both dildos. I suddenly felt as though I was skewered by two poles. Both were painful, especially my anus.

For another twenty minutes we explored the remaining paths. Marie altered the pace and the march. She made me high-step most of the time but changed to a half-step when she wanted a faster pace. Several times she brought me to a halt, obviously driving home the correct method of standing properly. She began mixing the steps to throw me off, having me high-step at canter speed or half-step at a slow march. If I failed to pick up the signals I was punished. I learned quickly. I hated that shocks in my groin.

By the time we had reached the shack at the far side of the field I was exhausted, sweaty, and my entire chin was covered in saliva. We were the first ones to arrive. Hugo exited the buggy and grabbed my reins. He led me forward until I was directly under a hanging strap. This strap was clipped to my nose ring and I was suddenly held erect and immobile. Marie had set the parking brake as well to prevent the buggy from rolling away.

"Clean her up and water her," she told Hugo before disappearing from view.

Hugo didn’t say a word. Instead he took a squirt bottle from an outdoor cooler and pushed the tip into my mouth, past the bit. I appreciated the gesture but I wished he had hit me with a hose to cool me off. Still, he continued to squirt water into my mouth until it was empty. Much of it spilled out of my mouth but I did swallow enough to satisfy my thirst.

Hugo:

"You may stand at ease. We’ll be taking a break as usual. When you see us approach, you’ll come to attention immediately. Clear? Please answer correctly, Casey."

I watched as she nodded one time only. She was learning. I was impressed. This was only her second day in training and she had learned to respond in the manner we had demanded. Few girls understood the importance of this simple discipline. The idea of changing the constant nodding or shaking of the head to a single motion was that we were changing the method of responding to questions. If a person is denied the ability to speak they will use head movement to relay their response. We prefer slaves to keep their head motionless and square to their shoulders. Our collars are specially made to prevent side to side head movement for just this reason.

Slaves need this sort of control. It defines their position in life. By definition, they are not free. They are slaves. The more we control them, the better they become. We do not demand fear nor do we demand respect. We only demand obedience. More than serving their owners, slaves must serve their purpose. Obedience should not be an option. It should be an obsession. We are their guides and their objects of service. But they must have their own goals. In the end, slaves not only serve us. They serve themselves.

A light breeze arose in the night air. The sun had just set and it was beginning to cool rapidly. I didn’t want Casey to catch a chill so I took a black cotton poncho that I normally keep for such purposes and wrapped it around her. It was split in the back and had a Velcro strip along its length. Even with the 80 degree temperature there was no humidity. She would feel cold without the wrap.

I found Marie nursing a beer as she peered through the tinted window. Casey was standing with her head up in the air, afraid to put any tension on the nose ring. She was breathing heavily but she looked like she was catching her breath.

"So what do you think," she asked me as I searched the fridge for a Molson.

"You’re the one who was holding the reins. You tell me."

"For day one she has amazing form. She might even be show quality."

"Possibly. Of course you know the rules. The show is only for one year olds and up. She’s not eligible."

"We’ll have to convince her," she said.

"You have an awful lot of confidence, especially considering our history. Our last girl only held up for two days."

"She was a mistake. I was obsessed by her tall figure. I didn’t realize how fragile her emotions were. Otherwise I would have worked her into it a little slower."

"She never seemed to get comfortable with lip service," I offered.

"Casey doesn’t have that problem, right?"

"No, she’s fine with it. She still needs to work up some enthusiasm for the act but she’s coming along. Right now I’d rate her as being tolerant. She’s improving each time."

"When do you want to let Paul have a crack at her?"

"Let’s give her a week or so. I think Tuesday of next week will be a good day to try her out. It’s a single march day so she’ll be scheduled to be in the parlor that afternoon anyway. We might as well put her in the cube for the evening."

"That should work out well. We have to head to Seattle on Wednesday to retrieve our newest addition. Did you review our notes?"

"Yes I did. She should fit nicely. We already have the last room set up and most of her gear is stored."

"Are you going to do double duty or are you going to hand Casey off to Greg?"

"I’ll give Greg to Casey if there’s a conflict. Otherwise I’ll handle both. We’ll run this schedule for a week or two, at least until I see that Greg and Casey are getting along. Greg’s a little heavy-handed."

"I’ve heard those rumors too. I don’t necessarily agree though. Tight discipline and a few extra jolts between the legs can get very quick results. Remember, our goal is to train these slaves to perfection."

"Are you saying I’m soft?"

"At times, I’d say yes. I don’t have a problem when you’re soft with the new recruits. But when you go easy on the veteran girls, I’m not particularly happy about it. I think you need to tolerate much less than you do."

"I don’t know if I can. I’ve been doing it this way for several years."

"And who pays all the operating expenses so you can continue to do so? Who brings in the cash from the Vegas Riding Academy?"

"You do. Look, I know I agreed to allow Paul and you to manage things but sometimes I have problems with the way we treat these girls."

"We all have problems with the way we treat them. It’s just a clash of styles. You like to treat the girls as human beings. I prefer to treat them as inhuman objects. I prefer it that way because it makes it easier to enjoy their services. Look at Casey out there. That’s not a woman clipped to the nose rein. That’s a pony-girl. She’s wearing a bit, bridle, and horseshoes. She pulls a cart. She’s a beast of burden. When we get her back to the house, she’s a pet. She responds to hand signals and voice commands. In my presence she is unable to speak or use her hands. She’s no different than a well trained dog or cat, just more intelligent. That’s how you have to think."

"Are you suggesting that I keep her bound and gagged too?"

"If that helps with your attitude, I don’t see any reason why you can’t go that route. You might want to try the new silencing collars. They leave the mouth free of obstruction."

"I suppose that wouldn’t be nearly as oppressive. I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll move in that direction after she’s been here a week or two. I don’t want to scare her off."

"I don’t think you could frighten her if you put a knife to her throat. Casey is tough."

"More than likely, she’s got dollar signs in her head."

"That too. Oh, there’s the other carts pulling in now. You’d better get going. Casey needs a lot more work."

Marie decided to stay and talk to the other trainers. I would take Casey out for another march around the field. I decided she could use a half hour of work. This would have to do. She was not in any physical shape to do much more.

Before removing the poncho and freeing her from the nose strap, I wanted to give her another squirt of water. I used the squeeze bottle and forced it past her bit. She coughed once or twice when she failed to swallow quickly enough. I wanted her to consume most of the water that remained in the bottle. I didn’t want her to get dehydrated.

I then freed her of the nose rein and removed the poncho. This revealed her lovely, belled breasts. I did a quick inspection, checking that her harness wasn’t chafing and her straps were still tight. I found some slack in the chin strap and tightened it. Casey didn’t like it at all. But she had little choice. I was in charge, not her.

Eventually we ended up on the path. I had her doing a full knee lift for a hundred yards or so. Then, just to test her, I pulled up short. Her knees were together as were her heels. And her chin was up. "Good girl, Casey," I praised.

We continued the march. For the next half hour I varied the pace and the knee height as before. I had her take left and right turns and I also threw in a few unexpected stops to check her stance at attention. I only had to zap her three times. Immediately afterwards she marched to perfection.

It was nearly 9:00 when we returned to the house. I put the brakes on and told her to stay. Of course she couldn’t move but I wanted her to remain at attention for a little while, perhaps fifteen minutes. I wanted to test her resolve.

I did this by walking behind the cart, out of her view and remaining very quiet. She couldn’t have known if I were still there. I wanted to see if she would slacken her pose when she thought she could get away with it. Well, she didn’t, at least not for a while. Then she tired and rotated her hips and moved her feet. She returned to the same pose however. It was a good sign. One day she would learn to take the pain of immobility for as long as she was instructed.

Five minutes later my approaching footsteps alerted her to my presence. I saw her stiffen and press her knees together more firmly.  It was a sign that she had slacked off for a moment and I needed to fix that. A moment later she was groaning past the bit as I pressed the button to punish her.

"Next time, you’ll stay at attention until you’re told otherwise," I said in a flat tone. Only then did I release the button. "Now, let’s see if you’ve learned anything. Come to attention."

Immediately she stiffened, pressing her knees and calves together. I wanted the chin a little higher. I zapped her with a quick press of the buzzer. "Chin up high, Casey. Eyes on me. Keep your head square to your shoulders."

She did everything I asked. The stance was excellent but I doubted she could hold it for longer than a minute or two. She was obviously frightened that I’d shock her again and she was tense and stiff. She didn’t know how to hold the pose without tensing. I let her hold the pose until her breathing became labored. Then I told her to stand at ease.

With that lesson learned I decided to take her back to her room. I released her from the cart and told her the dildos were armed. She knew exactly what that meant and took up a position directly behind and to my right. I ordered a half-knee march and proceeded up the ramp. She obediently stayed directly behind me.

When we arrived in her room I immediately walked to the large window to see if anyone still remained outside. Casey followed closely. I pointed one finger to the ground. A moment later she was kneeling at my side. I patted her on the head.

I could immediately see three carts still roaming the grounds. They were pulled by matched pairs of girls. Farther away, too far to see in the desert darkness, were six more sets of lights. Obviously these carts were being pulled by single ponies. Each cart possessed a pair of headlights that illuminated both the path ahead and the ponies as well. The drivers were invisible due to the glare. 

Most of these girls were veterans. The last bondage slave we recruited finished her training at least three months ago. I know that at least three girls have been with us for at least four years. It was an easier life than the sex slaves but they were regarded as little more than decoration. They were here to fill in the background while the sex slaves did the work and entertained everyone. Oh, Marie and Paul did enjoy their look. But it wasn’t the same as having a sex slave kowtow to you.

It was getting late and I needed to have Casey perform her oral duties once more. We wanted her to become desensitized to the act. This time I wanted her free of all bonds. I wanted to see how she reacted when the act was totally voluntary. Of course Paul never had sex with an unrestrained slave. Neither did Marie. But there might be times when a trainer wanted satisfaction. Perhaps she might be required to entertain a guest. We needed to remove her inhibitions. Those inhibitions having been impressed upon her for many years would require much time to suppress. That was our most difficult task.

Casey:

Hugo required me to perform oral sex. Notice I didn’t use the more common term, blow job. Even the trainers refused to refer to it by that name. Hugo informed me that they all preferred to call it "entertaining". OK, so Hugo wanted me to entertain him.

As usual Hugo sat in the lounge chair and had me kneel between his legs. The difference this time was that I wasn’t bound. He didn’t use the special chocks to hold my mouth open. My hands were free also. In fact I was completely naked except for the permanent rings in my breasts, clit, nose, and ears. I still had the dildos in me too. It actually felt good to please him this time. I didn’t feel like I was being raped. Of course he could always punish me by using the dildos but he didn’t even have the remote in hand. This time it was actually fun.

After the act was done he gently kissed me on the forehead and accompanied me to the bathroom. There he removed my dildos and placed them in a special hamper. They would be washed, sterilized and recharged. It felt strange to have them removed after having worn them for so long. I actually missed them.

He told me to shower and brush my teeth. "I’ll set the alarm. There won’t be any changes in the morning routine. Just do exactly as you did today. There’s some fruit on the counter if you’re still hungry. Try not to say up past ten. You’ve got another busy morning," he said. Then he left.

I was so exhausted that I didn’t want to sleep. I had been through an unbelievable ordeal that pushed me to the brink of insanity. Every event forced me to concentrate on being as obedient as humanly possible, which sounds strange because I was hardly treated as human. Still, I got a sense that they didn’t want to drive me insane and were always concerned about my safety and comfort. They were always inspecting my piercings and my bindings. Hugo kept telling me while checking the buckles that he didn’t want anything loose enough to rub me raw. Of course tight straps look better too.

I rinsed my mouth and walked into the main chamber. I grabbed an apple and turned on the news. There was no news today that was very interesting. I surfed the channels for a few minutes but didn’t find anything to my liking. Perhaps world events and fiction couldn’t match what I had just been through.

So I took a shower, turned off the lights and hit the sack. Every muscle ached but the bed was soft and the sheets smelled wonderful. I closed my eyes and thought about all that had happened during the day. I had to ask myself if I could do this for a year. I kept telling myself that I’d get used to it. I wasn’t sure that I would but maybe that’s what kept me hooked. It was the challenge.

Chapter 10: The Month Ahead

Casey:

I’ll describe the events of the following month as best as I can manage. The days seemed to blend and blur into one long session. With almost constant supervision and control I had little time to myself. Each day I had at most two hours of free time during waking hours. I had no days off. I was not entitled and I dared not ask.

Each day started with the exercise. The pony training continued to be the most difficult task. Each morning I was outfitted in pony gear and taught to be obedient. More difficult than pulling the cart was standing at attention. While the bars held me upright, the dildos put pressure inside my loins when I pulled my thighs together. Remaining perfectly still for the lengths of time they demanded made me ache more than the exercise. And they did demand exacting performance when I exercised. I had to lift my knees properly or they would use the buzzer on my anal dildo. They rarely signaled me to lower my knees. I almost always had to lift my knees high.

If I failed them I was shocked between the legs. It was nothing more than static electricity but it hurt. I couldn’t help but jump from the jolt. It did get results though. I rarely failed them the second time when they did that to me.

The remainder of the day was spent much as I have described earlier. Before each meal and before bed I would have to "entertain" Hugo. These acts were still hard for me to deal with. Hugo varied them slightly. Sometimes he used the training chocks to hold my mouth open. Sometimes he kept me bound but left my mouth free. And sometimes he simply let me service him without any bondage gear at all. After a week of this I had gotten used to it. It was no longer repulsive. It was just a job.

The evenings were an either/or affair. Either they would have me do a second march or I would spend the evening with my head between Marie’s knees. I didn’t like doing that either. I considered it degrading, even more so than servicing Hugo. Marie seemed to enjoy having control over me though. I guess that’s what I was being paid for.

Tuesday brought a slight change of plans. Around 1:00 in the afternoon Hugo wheeled in a three-foot cube made out of clear plastic. I could easily see that the inside contained many straps and at least one dildo. On the front was an electronic control panel with a number of buttons.

I was already showered and I had digested my lunch by then. Hugo told me to get my training collar with the mouth chocks. I found them in the closet where they were always kept. Hugo helped me install them.

I was helped into the box. Hugo had opened it from the front. There was a large hole for my head set in an angled panel along the front edge. Lower in front was a pair of holes for my hands. Hugo had me put them into the holes. Sliding panels were moved down and locked in place to prevent me from removing them. Hugo reached into the box and closed manacles around my ankles and upper calves to keep my legs positioned properly. Simple latches secured them. An anal dildo that was connected to a wire was slid in place. Hugo applied a lubricant first of course. Finally I lowered my head into the cutout and Hugo closed the lid.

Hugo used a T-shaped bar to push me along. He did not send me down the ramp however. I was grateful for that! Instead he took me to a well hidden pair of sliding doors and suddenly I realized they had an elevator in this place.

A few minutes later we arrived in the familiar parlor that Marie had allowed me to serve her so many times in the past week. I was positioned facing the side wall, thus presenting my profile to the centrally located couch where Marie always lounged.

While Paul and Marie had not yet arrived, we did already have an audience. Along the wall were a dozen girls dressed in tight leather outfits. Each was gagged with a head harness and firmly secured to a tall steel pole. They wore arm binders and high heel boots along with leather pants. They were secured to the poles at ankles knees and neck by black steel bands. Each girl maintained an open-eyed stare which was made even more impressive by the huge ball wedged between their lips.

What was impressive about the arrangements were the colors they were dressed in. The girl on the left was dressed in violet and the girl on the right was dressed in red. Between them the colors spanned the entire spectrum going into the yellows, greens, and orange hues and finally red, as I mentioned. Each was placed in an alcove which was also decorated in the same shade. Small spotlights illuminated the curtain behind them. It was quite a show!

They were not the only audience though. Apparently this first encounter with Paul was a much bigger event because I was also under the gaze of my four remaining sex slave sisters. They were mounted in plastic cubes as I was. There was one difference. They all wore ball-gag harnesses and would probably not be used tonight. I was the guest of honor!

Hugo walked off to my right and sat on the couch. I couldn’t turn my head but I could hear the springs and the leather squeak. I continued to stare at the assemblage before me, my mouth agape and filled with the metal plug that I was just beginning to hate.

I suddenly heard footsteps and I knew the show was about to start. Both the sound of heels and heavier footsteps told me that Marie and Paul had arrived. I hoped I was ready for whatever they were about to throw at me.

"They look lovely, Paul," I heard Marie say from behind. "You’re a master of design when it comes to bondage art. I’m really impressed."

"Thank you. But I have to give credit to the local paint company’s advertisement. Their rainbow of colors ad caught my interest so I thought I’d use it as a theme for this setting. Works quite well I think."

"Yes, it looks much nicer than the pussy vases, although I wouldn’t mind seeing them again for variety," Marie remarked.

"Perhaps a merging of ideas would be in order. Let me work on it. In the meantime let’s see what fortune has delivered upon us," Paul said in the airy tone that he always spoke in.

"Ah, peasant under glass," Marie quipped as she walked into view. Paul appeared from the left as well. It was supposed to be funny. They seemed to enjoy it more than I did.

"I think I’ll warm her up and set the tone," Paul said as he turned a dial on the control panel and flipped a switch. I suddenly felt a low pitched hum in my ass and I started and uncontrollable moaning a minute or two later. Since I was so tightly compressed the vibration went right through me and caused my entire lower half to buzz. It was annoying more than anything else. But somehow it excited me. I didn’t want it to but apparently the vibrations were stimulating my loins. I should have enjoyed it with the little amount of pleasure I had received below the waist. But I didn’t.

I watched Marie walk to each box and repeat the process on the four remaining sex slaves. As expected they all began showing the distress I was now feeling. I saw their eyes open wide. It was then that it dawned on me. That was the reason the bondage slaves all had wide eyes. Their dildos had already been turned on!

Marie sat on the couch next to Hugo so she could enjoy the show in comfort. With me in profile they would get an unobstructed view. Not only would they be able to see my trapped head perform its duty, but they would also be able to see my encased body squirm inside the Plexiglas.

"Attention, Casey!" Paul ordered. I immediately brought my eyes up to meet his.  At that point he removed the dildo from my mouth and gave the second order, "Extend!"

My tongue came out obediently. At that point the scene was pretty standard. He opened his zipper and inserted his manhood into my mouth. As I had done many times during the past week I automatically began working him. It was for his benefit and mine. My benefit would be monetary, his physical.

All this time I kept my eyes straining to look up at him. And, of course, he stared back, verifying that I knew he had complete control over me. I had to look at him. My wide eyes told the whole story as my throat felt the intrusion of his cock. I couldn’t gaze at his crotch and watch how deep he was penetrating. I had to rely on him to do all the work. My job was to look at him and keep my upper lip pressed down upon him while my tongue massaged the underside of his manhood.

This went on for several minutes. After shooting his load he remained inside me, forcing me to sheath him for several more minutes while he critiqued my performance.

"She’s a little loose, Hugo. Have you been using the mouth plug? I want to get the ring into her by the end of the month."

"I’ve been really busy and I don’t like having it in without supervision," Hugo explained.

"Have her follow you. That’s what the leash dildo is for, Hugo. Perhaps you should hand her off to Greg now and get stuff ready for the new girl."

I could hear Hugo argue with Paul for a few minutes longer but it was obvious that he would lose the argument. I don’t know what I did wrong but apparently he wasn’t completely satisfied. I was afraid I was going to suffer for it.

"You did quite well, dear. We’ll improve your performance with time but I’m quite pleased with your progress," he said to me as my mouth remained gagged by his cock.  "Let’s try this again. Squeeze me tighter with your upper lip and suck harder."

A moment later he was hard and pumping. "Tighter!" he demanded. Suddenly I felt a shock in my anus. I clamped hard but I let my upper teeth touch him. I got another shock for that. A few minutes later he was finished with me and withdrew. The metal cock was inserted into my mouth and left there unsecured.

"Your turn," he said to Hugo as he took his place next to Marie.

As Hugo performed his duty with me I heard a number of footsteps behind me. It was then I realized that the four trainers that were responsible for the remaining sex slave had arrived. I only hoped they didn’t intend to all partake!

In fact, only one other was allowed to enter me. It was Greg. When he was finished, Hugo had been relieved and I was now the responsibility of a new trainer. Paul apparently decided who went with who. He even commanded Hugo. It was one of many surprises.

I was grateful to be pushed back to my room. Greg pushed me but Hugo walked with us as well. A short roll to the elevator and another trip along the balcony placed me back in my room.

Greg released me from the box and all the bondage gear. "Clean yourself up then get in the headstock," he told me. I considered the order an ominous start. I could only imagine what he had in mind.

I was a sweaty mess when I stepped into the shower. The water felt good. Being cramped in such a small space had made me perspire profusely. I must have smelled like an animal. But I knew I had little time and it would be better not to waste too much time before getting into the stocks.  So I dried myself off and walked into the bedroom naked. Fortunately Greg had left me alone. I had an order to complete. I dropped to my knees, opened the stocks and inserted my head. It locked in place once it had closed.

Ten minutes later Greg returned. "For the next few minutes you may talk freely, Casey. I know your first impression will probably be unfavorable but over time I’m sure you’ll understand my methods. I am much stricter than Hugo. I demand I higher standard of perfection. I do this not simply for my personal satisfaction but for yours as well. You are a slave and your goal at this time is to be the best slave possible. From what I’ve seen you are well on your way. Your performance was quite good for only having a week or so of training. I thought you did very well indeed."

"Thank you," I replied.

"Don’t thank me yet. I said you did well for only having a week of training. You have a long way to go. I’m especially concerned with your attitude. I can see your lack of enthusiasm for your oral duties. You don’t like doing it, right?"

"I’m getting paid to do it. I can manage," I said.

"You won’t last with that attitude," he replied. "You think you’ll get used to the idea but instead you’ll get annoyed. You can’t do something you hate for an entire year."

"I have to," I said.

"Then learn to enjoy it. Don’t think of it as a dirty act. Think of it as fun."

"That’s not easy. My upbringing didn’t allow for this," I said.

"Nobody is ever raised to do this. But women do find pleasure in oral sex. Women find pleasure in being bound, gagged, dominated. You’re going to have to find your own reasons to like these things. If you don’t, no matter what we do, you won’t last!"

He was right of course. I couldn’t last if I continued to think of these acts as depravity. I needed to rationalize this. No, that wasn’t right. I had to find a way to enjoy it. I just didn’t know how!

"I understand," I said in resignation.

"Yes, I’m sure you do. But that’s not the subject of this discussion. The subject is attitude, not understanding. Will you change your way of thinking?"

"Yes!" I said defiantly, suddenly realizing that I was being challenged. It was both a challenge and a threat. He was trying to help by tell me that if I wanted to be rich I had to prevent my attitude from standing in the way of that goal. It was only then that I realized an all too obvious fact. I was performing these sex acts for money. I was a whore!

"Good," he said. "We’ll pass on the lip service before dinner tonight. I’m sure you’ve had enough for the afternoon. We have an hour before dinner though and I think we need to start stretching your jaw a bit. Would you go get your white mouth plug, please?"

I didn’t exactly smile when he told me that little tidbit. But I obeyed him immediately after he removed me from the stocks. "Get a silver tongue sheath and a chain leash too," he said as I walked to the closet.

I had been to the closet many times now and it took but a minute to find the items. I hadn’t worn them since I had first arrived. But I well remembered the discomfort when I did wear them. I didn’t look forward to this at all.

When I returned he simply signaled for me to kneel on both knees. I complied immediately.

"Open and stick out your tongue," he said.

I obeyed. He responded by slipping the small silver sheath over my tongue. He had his little wrench handy and a second later the end of my tongue was bolted into it. A six-foot chain was connected to the silver loop. He let it hang to the floor. He then took the rubber plug and inserted the chain into the large hole. I felt the vibration as the chain was pulled through. Soon it was at my lips. I didn’t resist although I wanted to. It was a difficult ordeal. My jaw ached as I opened my mouth as wide as I could. He had to press firmly to get it in. "Wider," he urged. I groaned. It wouldn’t fit! He pressed harder and a moment later my teeth mounted the rubber and slipped into the waiting groove. He finished by pulling the straps around my head and securing it carefully so as to keep my hair neat.

"Good girl," he said as he began tugging at the chain, easing my tongue through the hole. Next he used the wrench on the left hole, slowly turning it and pulling on the chain. When he could feel the pin slip into the grommet he turned the wrench a full turn to lock it in place. The second pin was easier to locate. It was soon locked as well, capturing my tongue and stretching it flat.

"I’ll be back in an hour to remove it. Then I’ll let you have dinner. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear it again afterwards though. We need to get your jaw expanded so you can wear the big ring. Paul prefers to use a ring rather than jaw chocks so I want to get you acclimated."

At that point he removed the chain from my tongue and left. The first thing I noticed was that I had an incredible capacity to drool. I had to rush to the bathroom to get a towel. While I was there I saw myself in the mirror. I certainly looked strange with a silver tongue sticking out of the white rubber plug. It disturbed me but I made no effort to remove the gag. Instead I simply wiped my chin and took the towel with me.

I watched a cooking show for an hour and waited for Greg’s return. I occupied the time by biting the gag, which I found eased the tension on my jaw. My teeth seemed to become stuck in the groove as I did this. I found the chin strap became just the tiniest bit slack in the process. While this actually eased the tension on my jaw, it was hardly enough to ease my distress. I also discovered that my teeth were trapped in the groove and this immobilized my jaw completely. This became quite annoying and I struggled for some time before I had any success in freeing them. Only my lower jaw came free. I was really beginning to hate this device!

When Greg did return he had me drop to one knee while taking up a position directly in front of him. I obediently complied as I had been trained. I assumed that this position was simply to make it convenient for him to remove the gag. I suppose it was but he had other reasons for this position I had assumed. "I’ve changed my mind. Open," he commanded. After a moment to absorb the surprise and the shock, I did.

After a small intermission to clean up after my personal service to Greg, we ate a small meal together. He slid a short table out of a slot in the wall and placed chairs on either side of it. Greg had retrieved a pair of meals from a lunch tray, commenting that he always ate with his assigned girl. "We’ll always eat the exact same dinner," he said. "Also, during these meals you are out of scene and may speak freely."

I didn’t have much to say but we got to know each other very well. I found that he was from Chicago and had been into bondage for eight years. He was never married, had no children and hadn’t had a relationship for two years. I told him of my ambitions and the problems I had getting a job.

"That’s pretty common," he said to this remark. "It’s a rough occupation."

"I know. Maybe I don’t have the right body. Maybe I have too wide of a frame?"

"Your frame is fine. You just need a little touch here and there. Nothing a little exercise can’t fix."

"And I’m sure I’ll get plenty of that," I said jokingly.

"Guaranteed!"

I was glad to have had this conversation with Greg. He seemed a lot nicer than I had originally thought. I knew he was strict but now I understood why. It was that perfectionist thing. He would be judged on my performance. It was a status thing. If I showed a lack of poise or an unwillingness to be totally subservient, he would not get the respect he deserved. He had pride in his work. And his work was me!

"You’ll be my pet for the rest of the evening and I need to stretch your jaw quite a bit more. Go to the bathroom and rinse well. I’ll get the gear I want you to wear."

After several rinses using the supplied mouthwash I returned to find Greg with an entire outfit laid out at the dressing table. The first thing to be applied was a three inch wide red collar. It had the standard front and rear rings riveted to heavy gold plates. The base conformed to my neckline and the upper edge flared to fit under my chin and tightly against the back of my neck. With the collar in place I couldn’t move my head. It also forced my head backwards to an awkward angle. I was forced to look at the ceiling.

Next came the belt. It was red as well with a large gold emblem of a horse on the front. The buckle was in the rear. It fit perfectly around my hips and went right up to the base of my breasts. The belt was equipped with a halter style web of gold chains. These went over my breasts and were connected to the lower edge of the collar.

I was still wearing both dildos so there was no need to attend to those areas. Well, that’s not exactly true. Greg did insert a short furry tail into the socket. It wasn’t as long as the pony tail I had worn before. I had a feeling I knew what he had in mind.

My hands were next. I assumed he was going to pin my hands behind my back as was apparently customary. Instead he placed short mittens on my hands. These were heavily padded. When I inserted my hands I found I had little movement in my fingers. The single cuffs were buckled in place and locked. I could no longer grip anything.

The boots were next. They were most unusual in the fact that they were pointed but had no heel. Obviously I couldn’t walk in them at all. He had me lay on my belly so he could slip them up my legs. I had to point my toes severely in order to get my foot all the way in. The red colored leather went right up to my crotch. The upper part of the boot was zippered both underneath and on top. Small locks would prevent the zipper from becoming undone.

That left only my mouth to be taken care of. It was the thing I most dreaded. For this I was forced to sit on my heels. He grabbed the ring on the back of my collar and lifted. I quickly assisted him by pushing up with my hands.

Of course the first item to take care of was my tongue. I obediently extended it so he could slide the metal sheath over it. A single screw was inserted and secured at the tip. Then he clipped a gold chain to the ring on the end. Now came the part I hated most. I saw the huge mouth plug come toward my lips as he threaded the chain through the large hole in it. When it got to my lips he pulled firmly on the chain. I had no choice but to open my mouth. I groaned and choked as the rubber device entered past my teeth. "Wider, Casey," he coaxed in a soft voice. I groaned again and stretched my jaw as far as I could. With a firm push it popped into my mouth. My teeth seated into the grooves and my mouth was sealed, only a small silver tongue extending from the wide hole.

A second later he had the tool inserted into one of the sockets at the corner of my mouth. Gently pulling on the chain he turned the screw, feeling for the catch to seat properly. A moment later I felt the pin seat in the hole and one side of my tongue was secured. With the right pin already aligned, the left pin took little time to secure. I really hated this gag!

He didn’t use a head harness with this gag and that surprised me. In fact the plug had no straps at all. Instead he began slipping my head into a leather hood. It was heavy but it had holes for my eyes, nose, and even my tongue. It laced in the back and had a thin chain laced into the lower edge. Once it was laced securely a zipper was brought down and sandwiched between the ends of the chain. A single, small padlock secured it all. When he had finished it felt like my head was inside a tight balloon.

He took several minutes to examine the hood and the collar. He wanted the fit to be perfect. First he made sure my nose ring extended properly through the hole provided in the hood. He also checked that my eyes were centered in their holes and that my tongue was properly positioned. He placed me on my hands and knees and adjusted the collar, attaching the leash in the process.

"Eyes forward! Keep your head erect and proud, Casey," he said, starting my training as his pet.

"Keep your knees close and your back straight. Force your knuckles forward and force the heels of your hands on the floor. When you pose, keep your arms and thighs perfectly vertical."

I did as he asked. I didn’t find it hard to follow his commands. Perhaps it was because of all the bondage gear. It made me feel like something sub-human. Yet it also made me crave direction. It’s hard to describe. It was almost as if the leather was magically transforming me into an animal. I actually wanted to obey him!

"Let’s go, Casey," he commanded. He kept firm pressure on the leash pulling my head erect. "Keep your elbows locked and your head high. Eyes straight ahead."

I was made to crawl for some time like this. Greg took me to the lower level and had me walk back and forth across the concrete floor. He kept firm command of me during the entire period. We stopped often. He corrected my posture with small corrective shocks. He corrected me often with regard to how I held my hands. I often lifted my palms off the floor. I also tended to turn my hands outward. "Paws straight! Heels down! Knees together!" he would command. Then I would cringe in anticipation of the shocks I knew were coming. And they always did!

I learned quickly. Being forced to act the part of a dog, I was surprised to discover that he had no intention of teaching me any tricks. I didn’t have to bark or roll over or play dead. All I had to do was crawl proudly and stand at what Greg called "The pose".

In less than an hour I was ready to take through the house and present to the staff. Greg seemed proud to show me to the other trainers. We went the entire length of the complex, ending up in the bondage slave section on the far side of the structure.

He seemed to have quite a few friends amongst the trainers over there. The slaves seemed to be familiar with him as well. The trainers were all male and the slaves were all female. I wonder if these people ever heard of equal rights.

We marched slowly, me at his right side. He held the leash firmly and always pulled on it to lift my head. He talked to me constantly, providing me with guidance for my first day as his pet. "Walk proud, Casey. Don’t hang your head. Lift it high. Keep your elbows straight. You’re my pet! That’s a great honor. Act like you appreciate it."

At one point during the tour we entered one of the bondage slave’s apartments. It was occupied by three slaves, all tall and blonde, and one trainer, who also happened to be tall and blonde. The trainer paid little attention to me but the three girls seemed fascinated by my presence.

"What’s her name," the one girl asked.

"Casey," Greg replied. "Casey, this is Cleo, Freda, and Ginger. They’re bondage slaves as you’ve probably guessed."

Cleo, the one who had asked for my name, approached and knelt beside me. The first thing she did was squeeze my cheeks and pet my head. "I’m so grateful I only had to wear that gag when I first arrived. I can imagine how much your jaw must hurt, Honey. You make a really nice pet. Very few get to be put in this outfit you know. It’s an honor to be someone’s personal pet. You should be proud to be Greg’s little dog. He’s an excellent trainer. I had him for three months. Trust me; you’ll really like his work. He’s a true artist."

The other two girls essentially repeated what Cleo had said. They petted me and checked the stretch of the leather around my face and scalp. They checked my boots and even corrected my posture, lifting my chin if necessary or turning my hands to make them point directly forward.

The trainer, who Greg introduced and Adam, simply commented on what he saw as a fine animal. "Marie will like this one," he commented. "It’s been a while since she’s approved of a personal pet. How did you convince her?"

"I told her she simply needed a change of pace. I thought she was getting bored with the pony stuff so I thought this would be better. Besides, she just serviced Paul today for the first time and I thought it would be a nice addition to the regimen. Marie agreed. Besides, she thinks this one is special. She wants this one to last."

"She likes the scene?"

"She craves variety. At least that’s what Hugo told me. We’re varying the environment as much as possible in order to accommodate her. I might suggest the same here. Might improve your girl’s performance."

"Thanks, I might try a few new things."

"Hey, I have to run. The king and queen are waiting. They want to see what nature and leather hath wrought."

I had been in this outfit for nearly two hours now. My jaw no longer hurt from being stretched to its limit. Instead it felt sort of natural to hold my mouth open. I suppose this was the intended reason for this huge mouth plug I had to wear. My knees hurt a little and so did my shoulders. The collar supported my neck but the area under my chin was sore from the tight pull of the hood.

Greg pulled on my leash and guided me along. I was getting used to his demand for strict discipline. I held my head high and paid close attention to the position of my hands and legs. He didn’t seem to have a problem with the way I was crawling now. But he didn’t necessarily praise me for the way I was behaving either. It was as if it was expected of me to crawl stiffly like this. I suppose it was.

Eventually we found ourselves in the presence of Marie and Paul. Marie was ecstatic when we arrived. She immediately went to me and knelt beside me. I remained perfectly motionless while Greg maintained firm tension on my leash as he had done constantly for the last two hours.  Marie played with my nose ring and the silver-sheathed tongue that protruded from the leather mask. She then moved down to my hanging breasts and checked out the rest of my body as well. She even ran her hands over my calves and the pointed spikes of the boots.

"She’s magnificent! How has she been handling the new role?" she asked as she returned to my head, petting me gently.

"No problems at all. Then again, we haven’t done anything more than posture training."

"Good. Any word on when the outfit will be here?"

"Two weeks at the earliest. There was some sort of glitch in the order. Something about a strike in Belgium. We’ll just have to be patient."

"I suppose. How about the muzzle?"

"We’ll have that next Monday I think. She needs a bit more stretching before we can use that though. The muzzle’s pretty ugly without the fur covering. You’ve said that yourself."

"Well, we still have pony training and our evening sessions to keep us entertained. I suppose we’ll have to exercise a little restraint."

"We’re good at restraint," Greg quipped.

"Yes, we are!" Marie said with a laugh.

Marie took my leash and led me through the mansion for a while. She tired of the activity after a few minutes and handed me back to Greg. Greg took me back to my room, again maintaining strict control over me.

By the time he had released me from the bonds I was thoroughly exhausted. Crawling seemed to require an unbelievable amount of energy. I was covered in sweat and my hair was matted from being enclosed in the hot leather hood.

"You did well tonight. One last task and I’ll let you get some sleep," he said as he removed the gag.

The task was exactly as I had come to expect. I crawled over to the familiar lounge chair and took my position. Greg had me open my mouth. The rest you can figure out.

Chapter 11: New Recruit

The routine had changed little in the four weeks I had endured. Greg had been firm but fair in my training. I was now accustomed to the harsh treatment and the total control that was imposed on me. I had even become used to the oral duties I had to perform four or five times a day.

I suppose I had become desensitized. I had now performed over one hundred acts of oral sex in the last month. This was their intent. Greg had often dictated that this was the reason for the frequent acts I was forced to perform. Well, that was true only of the male organs I attended to. Marie’s desire was to dominate me. That was the primary reason for her requirement that I perform oral sex on her. It took me little time to realize this.

The oral sex acts I performed on Marie were often intense from my end. I was always decorated and bound in such a way to make me an ornament rather than a human who had a duty to perform. I was adorned in chains, jewelry, and quite often heavy, exaggerated breast plates that made me look like some sort of Norse goddess. I was forced to remain between her legs for at least an hour at a time. Often I had another sex slave standing by in case Marie desired that I do something else for her such as pose or bind myself with chains or straps.

I had little to do with Paul during the first month. Yes, I had my sessions, but I could probably count the nights that I serviced him on one hand. When I did, I was always placed in the special box that allowed only my head to protrude. I also had to wear jaw chocks, which he liked to refer to as "practicing safe sex." He seemed to enjoy this method of satisfying himself. For me, it seemed very awkward.

Three weeks into this affair Marie came into my room shortly after I had finished my evening trot. It was a Sunday. It seemed strange to see her here. She had never visited me since my arrival. I was always taken to her, bound and gagged. I was taken by surprise and disoriented.

Marie pointed one finger to the floor and I immediately walked to her and knelt on my right knee. My training had established an instinctive response to the various hand signals that dictated my actions. It was a conditioned response. I didn’t mind.

After smiling and patting my head she told me we were going on a little trip tomorrow. "Don’t bother getting in your pony gear tomorrow. Just shower well and apply some conservative makeup. Greg will arrange your outfit. I need you ready by eight so you can sleep in for an extra hour. Just don’t be late," she warned.

"Yes, Marie," I responded.

"We’re going to recruit a new girl. I like to take a slave along as an example. It will be up to you to present yourself and relay any experiences you are asked about. I want you to answer truthfully. This is a recruiting session. While she has already agreed to come, I want her to see you and talk to you. It’s your job to give her a heads up on how extreme it gets. Do tell her the truth. Don’t mince words. If something is hard for you to take, don’t paint a pretty picture. I want her fully informed so it isn’t such a shock to her when we bring her here. And yes, I know this is different than the method we used with you. But each circumstance demands adjustment. I think this girl needs to be told the truth by someone who’s been through it. Understand?"

"Yes, Marie. I’ll do my best," I responded.

Marie patted me on the head and simply smiled. Then she just turned on her heels and walked away. I was almost disappointed that she didn’t allow me to do anything with her. Did I really miss serving her that much?

The next morning Greg arrived shortly after the alarm had roused me from my slumber. I had hardly pulled the covers off when he walked through the passageway into my room. "We don’t have a lot of time so I need to get you prepared quickly."

I headed into the bathroom and sat on the toilet to do my morning ritual. As before the process of cleaning my insides took roughly ten minutes for the three cycles to complete. I was impaled on the anal probe, pumped with air and water and cleansed completely. It was a mechanical process that I had long since become accustomed to.

Greg handed me a box with a perfumed douche. I used it while I was mounted on the toilet, thus saving a bit of time. Then I took a shower. Greg wasn’t waiting with a towel. Instead he had a wet/dry electric razor. In short order my underarms and legs were quickly cleansed of the little remaining unwanted hair.

I grabbed a towel and dried my hair during this time. Greg continued to work on my legs, dropping to his knees and feeling my legs for smoothness. This razor was a new type that spread a lotion onto the skin. It was as good if not better than a twin-blade razor. And it didn’t hurt or burn!

At that point we went into the main area. Greg had me sit at the vanity. Using a hair dryer and a comb he removed the remaining dampness from my hair. Then he bound it into a ponytail with a simple rubber band. I applied some lipstick and did my eyes as he dictated.

As he took the large head harness from the bag he explained the situation. "You’ll be taken in severe bondage to a mansion owned by one of Marie’s good friends," he said as he held the large red ball in front of my mouth. I automatically opened my mouth as I had done many times before. In seconds, not only had the ball been pressed into my mouth, but the screws had secured it to my tongue as well. Greg left the tip unsecured for the time being. "Marie has a lot of friends that happen to own private airports. Considering the sort of thing we do, it helps quite a bit. Anyway, we’ll be landing near Eugene, Oregon. We’ll be bringing our new girl to a nearby hotel to visit. Then you can go into your sales routine," he continued.

All this time he attended to his work. Straps were fastened all around my head. A leather collar was placed around my neck. And finally a small gold cone was placed onto the tip of my tongue and secured with a small screw. Attached to it was a long gold chain with a leather handle. Greg gave it a tug and pulled me to my feet.

It took little time to put me into a leather corset. I still had my hands free and I held it in place while Greg laced it up my back. It was severely boned and caused me to stick out my rump proudly. This was convenient for him since his next act was to insert my dildos. With my hips rotated as they were, it was quite easy for him to access both my openings from behind.

The last items were a pair of hip boots with five-inch heels, and a leather arm binder. A small battery was inserted into a pouch inside the binder and wires were connected to my two little friends. These were items I was well familiar with. It was quite common to wear these during my pony runs so it wasn’t nearly as big a deal as it could have been. Still, it ranked as one of the most severe sessions that I had ever endured.

There was one last item, a leather skirt. It was quite difficult but I managed to step into it without tripping. Greg fastened it around my waist and pulled the zipper down. While I appreciated being covered below the waist I soon realized that the skirt was very tight and hobbled me. It accented my extended rump and went all the way down to my knees. It was just tight enough to allow me a twelve inch stride and little more. It forced me to take short, quick steps.

I appreciated being led to the elevator rather than the long sloped ramp. In my condition every step I saved in my long march to the front steps was a blessing. Greg did not seem to even notice that I was struggling to do my best imitation of Morticia Adams as I took three steps for every one of his. Instead he simply urged me onward by pulling on the six-foot leash that was attached to my tongue. I had no choice. I was his slave. I had to follow.

Even with the assistance of the elevator it took a very long time and hundreds of tiny steps to reach the waiting limousine. Marie was there, dressed in a black pants suit. She wore long sleeves, which seemed out of place for this warm morning. Then I realized we were heading to Oregon and it was late October.

As Greg held my leash tight, Marie did a cursory inspection. After looking at my bound form Marie was all smiles. "She’s perfect," she commented. "You’ve outdone yourself. 

"Thank you, Marie. She’s a joy to work with. But aren’t we running short of time?" Greg asked.

"Yes," she said, looking at her Rolex watch. "We’d better get going. Paul is waiting at the airport."

We all piled into the limo with me placed in the same rear facing seat that I had arrived in. It was like they were re-enacting my arrival in reverse. The only difference was that I was wearing a triangular arm binder rather than a square one.

Several buckles mounted me to the cushions. The entire seat was designed for someone wearing an arm binder. The back of the seat sported a triangular depression with an opening for my hands to fit through. The seat also had a depression where the dildos protruded so I wouldn’t be sitting on the devices. Even the area around my thighs was molded to make everything as comfortable as possible. Considering that it was almost an hour’s drive to the airstrip I would need every one of these features.

Eventually we arrived at the airstrip. There was one significant difference between this scene and my original arrival, however. The limo parked nearly a hundred yards away from the plane. I would have to walk that distance in my heels and tight bondage.

After being detached from the strange seat I was taken to the rear of the car. We waited till everyone had assembled around me. A sole figure emerged from the Gulfstream IV. It was Paul. He was dressed in long white pants and a blue golf shirt. He seemed to be dressed much more casually than normal. Of course, everyone looked normal compared to my outfit.

While I was kept on a tight leash, we walked to the large white jet. Greg held the leash and Marie and the rest followed. My attention was devoted to keeping from landing face first on the tarmac. Everyone else’s attention was devoted to me as I shuffled with a ten-inch stride behind Greg.

My tongue, my toes, and my lower orifices all hurt. The pull on my tongue distracted me the most, especially since my jaw as stretched so wide. It caused me to groan and grunt from the pain. Nobody seemed to notice or care. Instead our little mass of people walked toward the entrance to the plane.

Marie must have loved the sight. I had to walk with my butt extended rearward. I’m sure if Marie were so inclined she would have used a riding crop on the tempting target. I could feel the leather pulled tightly around my ass. I’m sure that if we hadn’t been in a rush I’d have felt several strokes there.

My entire upper body was arched. My head was perfectly vertical, in line with my chest. My lower back was curved and extended rearward, forced into this position both by the corset and the heels. I must have looked like a bimbo!

I was so grateful when I was placed into the plane. They already had a seat ready for me. It faced rearward and was set on the right side of the cabin. It must have been made for this occasion because it had the same depression in the back of the seat. In no time at all I was strapped in place. I would have a perfect view of them. The reverse was also true. They could gaze at my kinky outfit as well as the female held captive inside it. Their imagination didn’t have to work very hard to understand how much torment I was going through. And they fed on it!

We arrived in Eugene three hours later. I couldn’t sleep or relax during the entire ordeal. All I could do was stare straight ahead. They ignored me for most of the trip. I wasn’t allowed food or water. I was an ornament and nothing more. The only thing they did was wipe my face and clean up the drool. Otherwise, no one seemed to notice me any more than a houseplant.

Marie:

The weather was not going to cooperate. It was 42 degrees outside and damp. I couldn’t allow Casey to be exposed to those conditions. She wasn’t sufficiently covered to allow her to simply walk to the limo. I would have loved to come up with a complicated arrangement to put her in more torment, perhaps placing her in a box and taking her by truck to the destination. Instead, I relied on the simplicity of an ordinary cloak with a hood. I simply allowed Greg to cover her with the cloak I kept for such an occasion. She looked like a monk, her head hidden deep in the hood. It would work out well.

The wind whipped a cold, irritating spray about us as we exited the plane. Greg had covered Casey with the cloak and would help her walk the fifty yards to the small control shack nearby. Paul took me by the arm and we walked to the shack as well.

Halfway there four figures emerged, two of which I recognized immediately. Elaine and Fred Cummings were old friends. Like several I had tutored, they owned a small stock of slaves. Last I heard they had ten slaves to satisfy their needs. Fred was dressed in jeans as well as a long black leather coat. Elaine wore a red leather coat but it was much tighter. It looked like a long hobble dress. Four-inch heels further restricted her gait. Hanging from her neck was a six-foot chain, which terminated in Fred’s right hand. Her hands apparently were free at the moment. I had visited them before where that aspect of her bondage was taken care of as well.

"Maybe I should treat you like that," Paul quipped quietly.

Without even looking at him I said, "You have enough toys to play with." He didn’t say anything after that.

Elaine wrapped her arms around me. "It’s been so long. How have you been?" she asked.

"I’ve been well. I see you’re still your husband’s favorite toy," I noted as I pointed to the three-inch collar around her neck.

"As it should be. Haven’t you tried being the submissive yet?"

"It’s not my cup of tea. That’s why I bring in so many more slaves than you do. How many do you have now?"

"Ten. I have four into bondage and six attending to our other needs," Fred stated suddenly. "It’s too cold here and I know your slave isn’t really dressed for this weather. Let’s get inside," he insisted.

Once inside, Fred and Elaine took their time examining Casey. Greg removed the cloak and allowed them to gaze upon her bound form. He had her kneel in the standard position, right knee on the floor and left knee square. He simply pointed one finger to the floor and she immediately responded. Both seemed impressed.

"How long has she been with you," Fred asked as he ran his hands over the headgear.

"Three weeks," I offered.

"She’s amazingly disciplined. Look, Fred. When I walk in front of her she immediately makes eye contact with me."

"She has excellent posture," Fred noted. "Only three weeks? Amazing. How well does she perform in harness?"

"She’s a joy," Greg volunteered. "She’s not show-quality yet but we’re working on it."

"Well, we’d better get a move on. I’ve arranged everything as you requested. The new girl will be arriving at the Windy Northern Motel in approximately ninety minutes. That gives you just enough time to run over there. I own the facility so there shouldn’t be any complaints from the management. You’ll find a single cabin, number 12, in the northwest section of the property. That’s the one you’ll use."

"How will the girl arrive?" Paul asked.

"She’s driving in herself. She called two hours ago. I offered to have a plane or helicopter fly her here but she’s a little skittish from what I could pick up."

"Thanks, Fred."

"Are you sure she’s OK with this? She sounded nervous."

"I gave her all the paperwork and told her she’d be put through hell. She wants the money. This one was the same way. She’s working out. I’m sure the new girl will be fine. We just have to give her a live example to be sure."

"I suppose it’s the smarter route. Best of luck," Elaine said. "When you’re finished, head over to the mansion and we’ll make you feel at home."

Greg replaced the heavy garment, laying it over Casey’s shoulders. The hood was pulled up to cover her head. It was partly for her protection and partly to keep her from drawing unwanted attention. The motel was a public place. Obviously we would have to take precautions.

Casey was placed into the waiting limo on her knees. We had her lean forward with her head on the floor as well. Even though the windows were darkened I didn’t want to take any chances.

We arrived on schedule at a large camping facility. The owner simply peeked out of the office and pointed to the road that would lead us to the proper cabin. It was in a secluded spot, hidden in the woods. We would have no issue with regard to privacy. No one could see us here.

We found the interior of the cabin to be Spartan. There was a double bed, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of open space in the living room. I suppose that was intentional. I noticed large eyebolts in the ceiling. If I had the time I suppose I could have done some suspension bondage with Casey.

I had Greg take Casey to the bathroom. She had been in bondage for several hours and we needed to do some basic maintenance. Unfortunately we were running short on time. I had him take care of just a few essential tasks. He removed the ball gag and gave her some water. Once she was watered, I allowed her to work her jaw for a moment before the gag was reinserted. After the front dildo was removed, she was allowed to relieve herself. The dildo was replaced by a fresh one and secured in place. Finally a warm, moist towel, dampened with a special perfumed cleaner, was used to moisten and soothe any bare skin that was still exposed. Greg even forced it into the hard to reach areas under her arms as well as across her breasts. Her loins were gently bathed as well.

Just as Greg had finished, the doorbell rang. A delicious tall blonde, similar in appearance to Casey, entered. It was a stroke of luck to find someone so similar. I had hoped to find a match for the tandem pony cart. If I could just convince her to join without scaring her away, well, that was a challenge. My intention was a bit complicated. I wanted to join for reasons other than the money. She wasn’t into the scene any more than Casey was when she started with us. Then again she was neither a virgin, nor a devoutly religious girl either. That meant, in my mind, that she was open to suggestions.

She was here. That meant she was interested. When I had last visited her I had provided a set of visual aids so she knew exactly what she was getting into. I had left her three hours of video and countless pictures taken over the past three years. They showed the outfits, the ponies, and even the sex. And she was still here. She was interested!

Now I wanted her to see Casey. The reason was simple. I wanted to give her the chance to talk to someone who was relatively green. I wanted her to see what she would look like when we had put her into bondage. And I wanted her to know just how hard it would be to earn a million dollars under my rules. I wanted her to understand in advance so the shock would be experienced before she had made the commitment rather than afterwards. Most of all, I wanted this all to work. She was perfect! It had to work!

Her name was Christina Petrie. She was exactly the same height as Casey, 5 feet, 11 inches tall. Her breasts were medium size, C-cup from the report. She wore five-inch heels as I had ordered and she wore a leather skirt also. When she took off her short leather jacket I saw she was wearing a white silk, long sleeved blouse. She was dressed exactly as I had dictated. At least she could follow orders.

Christina:

I had come to this motel room for a specific reason. Marie had told me all about her operation and I had decided that the money was too good to pass up. She told me she was going to provide me with an example of how I would be treated. I assumed she was going to put me in some sort of restraints. But that was not the case at all!

When I arrived, Marie and Paul greeted me. Paul had opened the door. Marie was lounging on the couch. I could hear water running in the bathroom and I saw that the door was open and the light was on. Someone was in there as well.

"I’m glad you came," Marie said as Paul took his place beside her.

"I almost didn’t after looking at the pictures and the video," I replied.

"Then why did you," Paul asked.

"I decided it was worth the money," I responded.

"Do you understand what I want from you?" Marie asked.

"Yes. You want me to be your slave. I know what that means. You want to tie me up and make me do things for you."

"That’s right. You have trouble saying the word sex?"

"I’m a little uncomfortable and a little anxious."

"Understandable. Well, I have an example of what is expected of you. Are you sure you want to experience it?"

"I think so. What do you want me to do?" I asked, expecting her to tell me to remove my clothes.

"Just sit over there and relax."

"I don’t understand."

"Just sit down. You’ll see in a minute," Paul insisted.

I did as ordered. At that point Marie walked into the bathroom and returned pulling a leash. Attached to the end of that leash was the most amazing sight I had ever seen! "This is Casey," she said. "She’s been with us three weeks. As you can see she’s completely under my control. You may also notice that she is under no duress. She is not struggling to get away. She is not in any pain. This is a very good example of the type of treatment you will be subjected to. This is what you have to do to get me to pay you a million dollars. Now, you have a decision to make. I want you to be sure. I want you to examine Casey very carefully. Please notice where she is pierced. Notice how she behaves. This is how you will be treated. This is what one million dollars buys."

I fully expected to be shocked by the things I would be subjected to. Seeing this strange girl bound in this manner was another story. I had seen the pictures on bondage sites and I had viewed the videos supplied by Marie and Paul. Still, this was a live person and it hit me hard. Her nipples, her crotch and even her nose were pierced with silver rings. And that gold covering on the tip of her tongue could only mean that it was pierced too.

The level of bondage was so severe that I almost had second thoughts. I needed to talk to her and make sure that there was no chance that this was a captive rather than a voluntary slave. "I’d like to talk to her, alone if that’s possible," I asked.

"I was going to insist on it," Marie replied. "Greg, remove her gag and arm binder."

Greg did as Marie ordered. "You’re out of scene," Marie said to the kneeling figure. You’ll return to your knees when one of us enters. Clear?"

"Yes, Marie," Casey replied.

And they left.

As soon as the door closed Casey rose to her feet. The heels were quite high. My attention was drawn to her breasts. Each was pierced and a length of chain drooped between them. From there my attention was drawn to her face. The first thing I noticed was the ring in her nose. I didn’t find it very attractive. It seemed to be there for control purposes more than beauty. It was heavy and ugly. She wore little makeup except for a dark red lipstick. Considering her gag, there didn’t seem to be any smearing. My guess was that she was wearing some sort of gloss coat.

She stretched out her arms above her head and rotated her neck as best as she could, considering the collar. She appeared to be very stiff. She groaned as she sat on the chair.

"Sore?" I asked.

"I’ve been bound for nearly four hours. But I’m used to it by now," she replied.

"I need to ask you some questions. Is that OK?"

"Sure. Ask away," she responded as she massaged her neck muscles.

"Is this completely voluntary? I mean, are they forcing you to do this?"

"I’m doing it for the money. They aren’t forcing me to do anything. I can quit any time I want. Of course that would be a very stupid thing to do right now."

"Did you ever do anything like this before you met these people?"

"Never. I was not into bondage or kinky sex."

"But you’re into it now," I offered.

"Only because it’s required."

"Then you don’t enjoy what you’re doing?"

"Let’s just say I’m indifferent. They do this stuff so often that you become desensitized."

"But it must have been hard for you at the beginning, right?"

"It was horrible," she replied.

"What did they do to you?"

"Well, I’m sure Marie has already described how they treat you, right?"

"Yes. She described the bondage and the sex. She told me I’d have to kneel between a man’s legs for half an hour at a time."

"Kneeling is the easy part," she said sardonically.

"I’m aware of the other part. That’s the part I don’t know if I’m capable of. I’ve never done it even once."

"But for a million dollars..."

"For a million dollars I can learn."

"You think you can become used to it?"

"I think so," I replied.

"You won’t."

"Come again?"

"They do it to you five times a day. To them, oral sex is a tool of subjugation. It’s meant to debase you and control you. They get more pleasure from control than from sex. Understand?"

"What happens if I do become used to it?"

"I don’t think that’s possible. They keep changing things. Every few weeks they change your trainer so you can’t develop a relationship. They vary the type of bondage they put you through. They make you act like an animal sometimes. Sometimes you have to act like a robot. And sometimes you have to act like a whore. But they always change the outfits or the methods. Nothing is ever the same for more than a few days at a time."

"Yes, but it’s all abuse. How do you manage?"

"You just do! If you want the money you have to accept their kinks. I really hated it at first and I’m sure you will too. Just think of the money. It’s like winning the lottery. You have to realize that this is good fortune. Yes, you’re going to have to make huge sacrifices to fulfill this deal. But let’s face it. Without these people you would never have a snowball’s chance in hell of coming across a million bucks. Understand?"

"I do. But I’m very anxious about the sex."

"I understand."

"I don’t want to be treated like a whore," I said.

"You don’t really have much choice if you want the money."

"I know. I do want the money," I said.

"Then the choice is pretty clear, isn’t it?"

"Thank you. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"I don’t think so. Don’t be afraid of these people. They’ll put you through your paces but they always look out for your welfare. They won’t put you in any danger."

"That’s good to know. That tells me a lot."

At that point the door opened. Casey’s eyes opened wide and she suddenly leapt off the sofa and dropped to her knees. Before anyone walked in she placed her forehead on the floor and placed her hands behind her back. I pictured myself in a similar situation. If I wanted to earn a million bucks I’d have to do the exact same thing. The question I had to ask myself was, "Why did she react so quickly?" The answer had to be that she was frightened of the consequences. She was obviously afraid to displease these people. It seemed contrary to the way she was acting only a few minutes before. She didn’t appear to be frightened, antsy, or anxious while she was talking to me. She wasn’t looking for a way to escape either. She was afraid to disobey. Perhaps it was conditioning. Perhaps she was attached to these people. I rejected the latter thought though. Her attitude that she conveyed to me in our conversation didn’t indicate that at all. Quite the contrary, if anything, she hated the things she had to do. She just wanted the money. Watching her kiss the floor, I realized I wanted the money just as much if not more. I knew then that in a few weeks I’d be obeying just as abjectly.

Marie and Greg returned to the room. Their first order of business was the slave girl’s bondage. "Bag her arms and get her gagged," Marie ordered. "Fred and Elaine are expecting us and I want to be back by midnight." Greg quickly bound Casey’s arms by returning them to the leather bag that had earlier been removed. I then watched her spread her lips wide and obediently stick out her tongue. A six-foot leash was attached to the tip of her tongue. Greg took a rubber ball out of a plastic bag and slid it down the chain. There was a large hole in it, obviously for her tongue. I watched the ball approach her lips with total fascination. Her lips seemed to stretch around the ball as it entered her mouth. It didn’t seem to fit. It was too big. Greg pulled harder on the chain and her tongue came with it. I heard her groan. Suddenly the ball popped into place.

After laying a cloak with a deep hood over her, Greg led her outside. Marie seemed more interested in my reaction than to the care of the bound girl. I suppose she either trusted Greg or was used to the process. Perhaps it was both.

"Now you know what is in store for you. I want you to think about this carefully. That will be you! Can you deal with it?" she asked sternly.

There was little hesitation. I suppose I was shocked by her directness. I was certainly distracted. "I can handle it. Just tell me what you want me to do," I returned boldly.

"Good," she said. "Sit down. I’ll go over the details...."

I was on my way back to my little apartment outside of Seattle. Soon I’d be making a very large lifestyle adjustment. I had just committed myself to a year of slavery. Three days from now I was going to be on my way to San Francisco. There I was going to stay a week at Marie’s expense in a small apartment that she had reserved for me. While staying there I was going to visit a special tattoo artist who specialized in piercing the human body. I even had a layout of where they were going to put various rings and grommets! She also would be measuring me for a special wardrobe. Finally I had to get a checkup and lab work.

Marie gave me two thousand dollars in a brown envelope along with a bound folder containing countless pages of pictures and literature. I knew well before getting on the plane what I would have to endure. I didn’t like the idea of having my private parts pierced. But everyone has their price and a million dollars is simply not to be ignored! I had to do this.

Two weeks later I had completed all the tasks assigned to me including the body piercing, the fitting and measurements, and the doctor appointments and blood tests. I returned home and waited. A week after the doctor visit I was bound and gagged. My outfit used hidden bonds. No one who looked at me could tell that I was unable to move my hands or speak. The gag was small and literally bolted to my tongue. The bracelets were actually handcuffs, which had fine steel wires running to a belt hidden inside my leather pants. Between my legs I was wearing a special insert that forced me to stay within six feet of whoever was carrying the special transmitter. Essentially it would act like an invisible leash.

And that was how my adventure began. Eventually they would train me in the fine art of oral sex, with both male and female partners. They helped me conquer my inhibitions regarding all forms of bondage for I was bound for most of the waking day. No day was boring. Each day offered surprises beyond my wildest imagination. Some I liked. Some I didn’t. A year later I knew I’d be richer. Whether I’d stay for another session was a question I had yet to answer.

Chapter 12: The Ceremony of the Moon

Casey:

As my stay approached one month I found myself becoming more and more accustomed to the harsh treatment that the staff was offering. Marie now had me crated nearly every night in the special box for Paul immediately after I had satisfied her. First I would be stationed between her legs. Then I’d be returned to my room where I’d be allowed a bathroom break before being inserted into the clear plastic cube. My jaw was propped open with a special harness. Then I was hooded with a sightless gold hood that laced in the back. My hair was formed into a ponytail and was forced through a hole in the top. A leather plug was inserted into my mouth. It was mounted to a muzzle made of red patent leather.

I still had to do the pony stuff too. Every morning I was expected to prepare myself in every way. I had to sit on that hateful machine that cleansed my insides every day. I had to insert the tip of my tongue into the bit and mount it to the head harness. I even had to put myself in the headstocks and allow Greg to put my arms into the binder.

I started seeing Hugo again too. He was now watching the new girl, Christina. I got a chance to talk to them at mealtimes. During our very first conversation I discovered that Chris, as she liked to be called, was a bit more out of shape than Hugo was comfortable with. That would not go well for her.

Hugo was charged with getting her into shape. Over the next few weeks she would be put through a tough regimen of pony training and pet treatment. Instead of having three nights of two a day marches, she marched every day and every night. And if she wasn’t in harness, she was probably in her pet outfit, crawling to please Hugo or Marie.

I, on the other hand, was being groomed for my celebration of one month of service. It would be a hazing of sorts, Greg explained. There was little detail in their description of the event but I was certain to wear something very unusual. Well, I really didn’t expect otherwise.

The event was to be held in the evening of the last Sunday of the month. I had done nothing all day but stay in my room. I didn’t even have to do my daily march. In fact Greg didn’t even have me service him. He just came in around nine and told me to stay put. He’d bring my meals. To top it off, he didn’t even bind me so I couldn’t leave the room. I found that unusual because they always applied a restraint when they wanted me to stay somewhere. Greg didn’t even insist on a collar. Considering my past month’s treatment, it was very unusual.

All day long I watched a flurry of activity outside. The entire center diamond of artificial turf was transformed into a huge party area. Two stages were erected, a tall circular one in the center and a lower one in the rear. Musical instruments were placed on the later, obviously for the band. The center stage simply held a single waist high steel pole. The purpose of that device was fairly obvious.

At 3:30 Greg came to my room and instructed me to get clean. I already knew what he meant by his simple order since I had been given this order several times before. I first stat on the toilet and allowed the automated process to perform its disgusting task. When I arose, I used a douche and popped into the shower.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Hugo had arrived. It was now 4 p.m. Greg was now standing near a cart that contained a lot of unusual gear on it. Obviously the outfit was intended to decorate my body. I simply stood in the middle of the room and waited for their orders. I suppose it was my conditioning that prevented me from being surprised by all these strange items. I suppose that was the purpose of maintaining the extreme level of training that I had endured.

Hugo was obviously the leader and would apply the gear. Greg simply assisted. My role was that of subject. I was less than a slave. I was a mannequin. I was the clay for the artist’s hand.

The first task was to apply makeup. Everything about this session would be unusual. That included the makeup. It was all colored silver! Hugo started by forming my hair into a tight bun and temporarily holding it in place with a small clip. He asked for the silver goo. That’s what he called it. First he added a full tube of hardener and shook the can for two or three minutes. Greg assisted. He started at the hairline and began applying a thick layer of the substance. It was a little warm but not too bad. I watched in the mirror as my entire face was plastered with the material.

"Don’t be afraid of this stuff," Hugo offered. "It is similar to liquid latex but it maintains solubility. In other words, a hot shower will wash it off. Nonetheless, I don’t want to get it into your eyes. I’ll do your eyes with traditional eye color. Now, you’ll notice in a minute or two that it will feel firm. This is normal. We’re going for the robot look. It will take a full hour for the material to cure to the point where I can bring out the shine. Now stand still while I do your breasts."

After my breasts were coated, Hugo told me to open my mouth. "We’ll need to let the latex cure while your mouth is spread wide. Otherwise it will tear when we gag you later," he offered. After explaining the reasoning, he inserted a large rubber pear gag into my mouth

In the end I looked something like the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz. The only difference was that I wore a silver latex suit instead of actual tin. It had a shiny look. Apparently the suit had been treated with several layers of silver colored lacquer.

My breasts poked through the twin openings and were surrounded by shiny silver rivets. Likewise my shoulders were encircled by rivets, as was the neckline. The suit ended at the waist where I could see flattened metal belt loops.

Additional silver paint was applied between my legs. Hugo used a rag to apply it. It was obviously much stiffer now. This allowed him to work the material up into the crack of my ass as well as my crotch. I can’t even begin to describe what his massaging felt like. When I groaned with pleasure he tilted his head back to look at me and smiled. I think he was enjoying himself. I certainly was having a good time.

To insure that I did not mess up the work he had done a spreader bar was attached to my wrists. I was left on my knees in front of the TV.  My arms were lifted to a point just above my head so I held them with elbows bent at right angles. A pair of thin chains attached my nose ring to the bar near my wrists and held my head up. I didn’t like that bit at all.

Some time later I found myself being presented to a crowd of elegantly dressed people. They were all dressed in the most outrageous fashions imaginable. Not one woman wore a heel less than five inches. Each wore some sort of tight choker around their neck. The women all wore leather from the waist down, either pants or skirts, and a silk long sleeved blouse. The colors of the outfits varied. None wore pure white. Many wore bright colors. The outfits were color coordinated. If someone wore red leather pants, the blouse was a shade lighter or darker, but always the same tone. The men were all dressed in business suits, although their jackets were of various pastel colors as well.

I would learn later that this was all part of a color coded ranking system similar to the martial arts belt classifications. This system consisted of five tiers with black being the highest ranking and green being the lowest. Basically, every two years a person would progress through the ranks by demonstrating their willingness to partake in ever more stringent and severe displays of bondage and discipline. Each couple would have to demonstrate a mastery of the arts and their willingness to partake in a series of stringent bondage acts. The couples would have to change rolls and show an equal willingness to endure strict bondage and discipline. As the rank level rose, so too did the requirements to advance. Should a member refuse, the result would be a one year wait until another opportunity would arise. And since it took a full ten years of perfect service to attain the coveted black rank of bondage, every delay meant another year until that rank was achieved.

Thirty people gathered around the dais as Marie and Paul introduced their newly found slave, me. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Casey, our guest of honor!"

I was greeted with a loud applause. Everyone’s eyes were glued to my body as I stood on display for them at the edge of the platform. When the applause died down Marie signaled Hugo and Greg. They took me by the arms and led me to the post.

A large cart was wheeled next to the post. It contained all the gear which would be needed to mount me. This was an elaborate system of poles and braces and wires as well. First they bolted the twin dildos to a cross-shaped brace which ran up my back. My arms were connected to the ends of the posts with steel cuffs. A T-shaped brace was then attached to the bottom of the back brace and my legs were stretched until my ankles were secured in the waiting steel cuffs. A steel brank with a light fixture was inserted into my mouth and bolted to the back brace. Wires ran down my back and were concealed with carefully placed silver tape.  They added a steel band around my waist and twin hoops around my breast. They had a fluted design that seated well but allowed for the rivets to protrude from the outfit.

When they have finished I was spread eagle with my head forced into an upward pose. Once they had me well secured to the post the entire assembly tilted my body forward until I was suspended at an angle severe enough that even with my head tilted backwards I was still facing down. That’s when the post started to rise. I was never so frightened of falling!

Suddenly I began to rotate. The light on my gag came on and I suddenly became a light fixture! People began looking at me and pointing. They began to play old disco tunes. I hated those songs when my parents played them. Now I had even more reason to hate them.

My torment didn’t end there though. Now the vibrators came on between my legs and it made me bounce. The light coming from my lips began to bounce. Reflective panels lined the edge of the dance floor. Colored crystals bounced the light from my lips and reflected it about the stage. Everyone enjoyed the experience. Even I was mesmerized by the music, the dancing, and the lighting.

I stayed on my post for hours. As the sky lightened with the glow of the coming dawn the party broke up. Two assistants came and lowered me toward the ground where I was removed from the strange frame. "You did well," a voice came from behind me. It was Marie. I couldn’t turn around because of my bondage. I couldn’t smile because of my gag. But, I had done well. I felt like I had conquered the world!

Chapter 13: Epilogue

There was a certain satisfaction from finishing a month of this treatment. First there was the challenge of enduring the torture of course. My body was physically tested to its limits. Every bone ached constantly from one sort of abuse or another. My feet hurt from the countless hours walking in heels. My shoulders and back hurt from the marches each morning as well as the nightly jaunts when they could fit the exercise in. Even my jaw and my tongue hurt from the various gags and tongue restraints. It was horrible.

I endured the torment because of one reason: money! I was now $10,000 richer than I was a month ago. It would be eleven months before I’d see the final reward. I couldn’t screw up now. A million dollars is worth the suffering. I was certainly capable of dealing with this for the remainder of the year. I figured that it couldn’t get any worse. They certainly could alter the treatment and probably would. But I couldn’t see how it could be more demanding that the torment I had been through.

The following weeks and months offered variances on the same theme. The theme wasn’t bondage as much as it was domination. It was the control factor that was important to them. For instance, I was often plugged and gagged in such a way to prevent any sexual contact. But they seemed to thrive on such situations.

As we progressed through the hot summer months we traveled more. I was usually paired with one of the bondage slaves, the ones who didn’t have a sexual requirement. The outfits we wore were always the usual leather jacket, leather pants, and silk blouse that hid the finely planned bondage gear underneath. We were also gagged with the simple tongue pads that were held in place by a bolt that pierced our tongues. And we all wore the ‘follower dildo’ to prevent us from straying far from our mistress. It was an ingenious setup.

Our destinations varied about the United States. Our owners were constantly looking for recruits at their various shops. Few panned out. They’d be subjected to the routines and kinks of the staff. They’d hold up for a week or two but then it would become too much. The request to leave would be granted at that point. I saw four girls come and go in as many weeks.

They did get one girl that hung in there. Her name was Olivia. She was a tall redheaded girl, at least six feet, four inches tall. I was impressed by her long straight hair and her long legs. They dressed her in a pony-girl outfit with gold hip boots and a red bodice of leather. It was awesome. Everyone seemed stunned into inactivity whenever she entered the room. All eyes gazed upon her and to be truthful, I felt quite jealous. Not that I was ever wanting for attention.

Weeks and months passed. Olivia was dedicated to the role of full time pony-slave. I spent the majority of my time as either a pet, gagged with my tongue hanging out and being led around on a leash, or as a bound sex slave for either Marie or Paul. Of course, every morning I too spent time marching in a pony-girl outfit. I was actually beginning to enjoy that role.

The final day arrived on August 31. To be truthful I was unaware of the date because I had no calendar available and no one told me! The morning was the usual preparation. I cleaned myself up and dressed in my minimal bondage gear, bit and bridle. I expected my trainer to arrive. I knelt with my head in the stocks and my arms behind me as I had done so for a very long time. And I waited.

I knew it was getting close to trainer switching time. I figured it was four weeks or so since the current trainer had taken on the job. His name was Alberto. I didn’t particularly care for his methods. He was strict and demanding in ways that other trainers had never been. He demanded I keep my face within a few inches of the floor every time he walked into the room. The only time I was allowed to rise was if he was sitting in the chair. That meant oral sex of course. I even had to eat like an animal. He cut up my food and fed me every day like a dog. Finally he kept my feet in ballet boots and my arms in stiff fingerless mittens. The only time they were removed was at night before bed and when I was dressed in harness.

But it was the day to change trainers and I expected a new style of torture. As I had done literally hundreds of times before I knelt with my head in the stocks and my hands folded behind my back. My lips clenched the bit that trapped my tongue. I was used to the process by now. In a few short moments I would be marching to the orders of my trainer, perhaps my mistress herself.

When my trainer arrived, he slipped a leather sleeve over my arms. I held them behind my back just as I had been trained many months ago. It was standard routine by now. What surprised me was the trainer. It was Paul!

"Today is payday," he said to me after removing me from the stocks. "I get the final ride. After we finish the ride, you will make a decision. I’m going to explain the choices now so you can think about it as you march. The first option obviously is to take the money and run. You’ll be paid off and you can leave. The next option is to take the money, take a three month vacation, and then return. You can commit for one, two, or three years. There will be monetary incentives for the longer contracts. Finally you can place yourself on the pony slave auction block. If you do, the mandatory commitment term is three years. You would receive a guaranteed ten million minimum for your duties but there would be no chance to end the contract early.  We would receive the commission since we are the most recent owners. You would essentially become a prisoner subject to the whims of your owner. During that time you could be sold for profit as your owner saw fit. Each time you are sold you would be awarded an additional thirty percent of the sale price.

Be forewarned that few owners are as lenient as us. Your role as a pony would be far more demanding than what you have ever been subjected to. You would live like an animal. You would probably be stabled and bound constantly, as if they were preventing you from escaping. You would experience the true nature of slavery.

As he led me away by the reins I began to think. It was so obvious that he wanted me to accept the third option. I saw it in his face. Would he bid on me if I did this? Did he have another facility for this sort of activity? I didn’t know but I suspected he did. But three years without the chance of ending the contract was a big step. I didn’t know if I could do that. And I was now a millionaire! Why subject myself to that torment? Then I realized that I really only had $600,000 because the taxes were going to hit me hard. Still that was a lot of scratch. Did I feel it was enough? The answer was, of course, "No!"

But I didn’t want to go back into it right away. I decided that I’d take the vacation and see how I liked freedom for a while. I needed the break. Then I’d come back. I had to. I could handle this life of subjugation. I had done it for a full year and I was not insane or disturbed by it. I had faired well to be truthful. In fact I was pretty damn proud of it!

Paul hooked me up to the cart when we descended to the lower floor. Hugo and Marie were waiting. As I took my position between the shafts everyone stared at me as if I were their proud daughter or sister. It was strange to say the least. It was like I was graduating from college.

Marie approached me. I made eye contact with her as I had been taught so many times before. "You’ve been told your options?"

I nodded.

"I need a decision when you are finished with your march. If you are taking your three months off, I still need to know what you intend to do after the three months are complete. I have to make arrangements for your return, especially if you decide to enter the auction."

This surprised me. I thought I’d have some time during the three months to decide what sort of service I’d take on. I kept leaning toward the full commitment of three years but I thought the pony thing was too extreme, even if it meant ten million. Then again, even if they took out a third of the amount in taxes, I’d still be left with over six million. And if they could invest it for me I’d be even better off.

I knew that giving myself up to people that would treat me like an animal was a lot to ask of me. I know I was capable of handling the situation. I had dealt with a year of such treatment already. How much worse could it be? I had already been a pony, a dog, and countless other creatures according to the whims of these people. Could it really be that much worse?

As we began the march I knew my decision was made. I was going to put myself on the block. Every time I tried to find a reason to take another path I thought about the money. Any other option was not enough for me. If I was going to put up with three years of torment I might as well get paid for it. So when the march was over and they removed my bit and bridle, I told Marie, Hugo, and Paul my decision.

Everyone congratulated me on my decision. Marie said she’d take care of the details. Paul told me to enjoy my vacation. Hugo remained silent for some time. He simply displayed a smile from ear to ear.

As I was led away to have my gear removed I heard Hugo make one comment to Marie. He quoted that character in the old movie that I had watched countless times, "Greed is Good!"

The End!