Katherine Blackman is bored. She stumbles across the world of online BDSM and dives in enthusiastically without thinking of the consequences. In the same cyber world slave trainer Master M needs a new challenge. He decides to see if he can take a mature, worldly, intelligent woman with no BDSM experience and transform her into the perfect sex slave. He spots his ideal victim and begins his preparation.
M idly fingered her collar as he broke the silence. ‘You do know that this will remain on until you are sold, Kitty, don’t you?'
‘Yes, Master.’
‘Tomorrow you will be dressed correctly as a slave, but for now you can relax. I have some chores to do around the house.’
Kitty wanted to ask how he intended to dress her but, sensibly, decided not to risk upsetting his current benevolent mood. He moved her to the middle of the rug, lengthened the rope between her ankles and wrists and allowed her to close her legs so that she was lying on her side in a foetal position. M gently removed the butt-plug and then covered her head with the rope bag, pulling the drawstring around her throat so that she could feel it bite but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. Kitty opened her eyes, but could see nothing but vague shadows through the thin black material. She heard Maisie come downstairs again, felt a slight draught and soft thud as something landed on the floor close by; she tensed but nothing further happened so she relaxed again slowly. For the next while —she had no concept of how much time passed—Kitty heard and felt them both move around. She jumped at the sound of drilling and hammering and wondered what damage they were doing to her lovely cottage, but when the harsh noises stopped, she drifted off into a light sleep, thinking again of her absurd position, naked and bound and totally ignored.
She was woken by her Master—strange how she now thought of him as that—nudging her in the ribs with his foot.
‘Kitty—what is your PIN number?’
His voice was back to the business- like tone. Kitty hesitated. ‘Kitty,’ he said and kicked a little harder. Still she stayed quiet and motionless. His voice was now low and menacing, ‘cunt—do you remember keeping me waiting online for an hour? Well I do, and tomorrow you will receive one stroke for every one of those sixty minutes, and you will thank me for each one.’ His boot moved on to her fingers and pressed them down onto the hard floor. ‘Now, if you don’t give me your PIN number in your next breath, I will break your fingers and you will never type again.’
‘1172,’ Kitty blurted, now fully awake and petrified.
‘Rule,’ Came his cold voice, ‘You never, ever think to disobey, mislead, outwit or deceive me. You will always fail, and you will suffer very badly as a consequence. You will always tell me the absolute truth immediately and without reservation. Understood.’ It was a statement, not a question but Kitty nodded furiously inside the bag ‘Yes, Master. This slave understands.’
‘I’ll deal with your insolence in a while.’ Kitty felt the atmosphere chill and she started to shiver in trepidation. She heard her computer fire up and a soft ‘Yes.’ a few minutes later. Her heart sank. A few minutes later she heard Maisie’s cheery, ‘Good night, Boss!’ and his short reply, and the door bang.
Forgetting Maisie’s cold indifference to her earlier, she fervently wished the older woman was there to rein in her Master’s anger. The wait only added to her dread. The computer powered off with a sigh and silence ensued. Kitty knew M was looking at her and she tried to shrink into an insignificant spot on the rug. Even as the fear coursed through her mind, her body betrayed her
and she could feel her nipples harden and her sex grow wet. Not knowing what else to do, Kitty rolled on her back and opened her legs in invitation.
‘Stupid whore,’ he snorted. ‘Do you really think offering me a body that’s mine anyway will save you?’
He grabbed her by the ankles, undid the soft ropes, and pulled her upside down in one swift movement until her feet were level with his shoulders. Kitty felt a much harder—leather?—binding enclose one ankle, then the other. A cranking noise sounded as her legs were pulled apart and lifted until the top of her head left the ground. It stopped and she swung gently, blood rushing to
her head. She felt his warm breath on her open vulva and it responded by pumping more blood to her labia and clitoris. He kissed it gently then stepped back and brought the cane down in the dead centre of her sex. Kitty screams didn’t stop as he repeated the stroke, harder and harder, again and again in exactly the same place until she thought she would faint from the excruciating torture.
Finally he stopped and waited for her to become quiet. Very softly, he stroked the throbbing flesh, then ran his tongue down the full length from her hood to her anus. It felt wonderfully cool as she babbled her gratitude. As his mouth closed over her clitoris and gently sucked, Kitty’s reason finally left her and she fell into a dream world where pain and pleasure became one. She no
longer felt the new strokes that landed on her inner thighs, her exposed anus or her clit; her brain translated the sensations into an explosion of joy and she shuddered as she orgasmed as she had never done before.
Her body, free from the ground, jerked and twisted uncontrollably and a small squirt of liquid erupted from her vagina. M lightly touched the very tip of her clit again and was rewarded by an even more violent reaction. He stepped back and smiled as her belly convulsed over and over again, her cum dripping down her body, along the underside of her breasts to stain the floor underneath her. It was fully ten minutes before her body stopped shaking. He uncranked the pulley, lowering her to the floor. Without speaking, he carriedher though to the cellar where he shackled her hands to her collar, her collar to the wall and also her feet to the new hook in the wall. As he was about to leave, M heard a shaky, quiet voice behind him.
‘Master?’
He turned. ‘Yes?’
‘That money you took is all I have left in the world.’
M looked down at her and answered, ‘No, Kitty. I am all you have left in the world.’
The door swung closed and the light clicked off. Kitty slept.
Early the next morning, M quietly opened the door and stepped in to the cellar, letting the light from the kitchen illuminate the room. He looked down on Kitty as she slept and wondered—not for the first time—why he had taken her. She was at least 20 years old than his usual victim and, while her body was good for her age, it could never compare with the lithe slenderness—or smooth plumpness—of a girl in her late teens. She had been accurate in the de***********ion of her body; the waist was rather too thick and her tummy was a bit flabby. At least she was self-aware and had lost the crippling self-doubt or misplaced vanity that bored him so much. Her breasts were natural rather than the rock hard, insensitive plastic protuberances that he despised and wished to slice off whenever he encountered them. Kitty’s face could be described as pretty in an ordinary way; her eyes were an interesting blue/grey and she had a pleasant, cheery smile in the corporate photos he viewed, but
her nose was a little too short and chin a little too pointed to allow her to be called beautiful or even attractive. Asleep, the laughter lines around her eyes had disappeared and she looked younger and vulnerable. He thought back to her fit of laughter after the football game and smiled to himself; she had impressed him up to then with her reaction to forced submission and her ability to learn quickly, but with that moment, she’d demonstrated a personality and cheerful acceptance of her fate that he had not come across before. His response had been to fed her, comfort her and pet her; something he’d never dreamt of doing to a woman, not even Donna.
M snapped himself out of his reverie; he was going soft and that was a path he had no intention of pursuing. He smelt the fresh urine, saw the dark stain on the cardboard under her hips and smiled; the new wall hook had had the desired effect. Stepping quietly to the tap, he unfurled the hosepipe, pointed it at her crotch and turned the tap on full blast.
‘Wake up, you stinking bitch!’ Kitty gasped and jumped, the chain attaching her collar to the wall jerked as she tried to avoid the water and then her forehead hit the rough render as she bounced back. M moved the jet up to her head momentarily and then turned off the tap. Kitty blinked, looked up at him with confusion in her eyes but quickly dropped her gaze, shaking the water from her head and getting a few strands of wet hair in her eye in the process.
‘Ouch.’ M pulled it away—he didn’t enjoy pain he hadn’t planned or inflicted. He unhooked her feet and collar from the wall and freed her hands from the collar. Attaching a dog leash to the collar, he tugged her off the cardboard pile and pointed to the floor ‘All fours,’ he reminded her as he chose a long horse-riding crop from the wall cabinet.
Tapping her sharply on the bottom, he ordered her to walk. Kitty did her best on the rough concrete and then the hard slate kitchen floor. The wooden floor in the living room was easier and the carpeted stairs felt luxurious under her knees. Kitty was pathetically excited at the thought of being allowed into her own bedroom, but he steered her into the main bathroom instead. She saw that the bath was half full with foamy water, and smiled in anticipation of a hot soak.
‘Toilet.’ M ordered and sat her on the pan.
Kitty automatically closed her legs and received a sharp lash on each thigh as a reminder. She quickly opened them and hung her head in humiliation as he crouched down and watched closely as she eliminated. M pulled her forwarded and wiped her clean with toilet paper, then pushed her back down on the seat.
‘I don’t know if it’s the same for women, but for men if you hear someone pissing, well, you just have to join in,’ he said casually, unzipping his fly. Kitty was frozen in horror as he pointed his penis at her neck and emitted a stream of hot, yellow piss which cascaded down over her breasts and belly and funneled into the toilet through her open legs. It seemed to go on forever, finally tailing off to a few drips which he splashed on her face. ‘Lick,’ he commanded, taking a firm hold of her hair and shoving her face into his pubic hair. She balked at the acrid taste of ammonia but he didn’t let go until he was satisfied.
‘You may well have to drink gallons of piss if your new Owner feels like it, so you’d better learn to deal with it,’ he said, tucking his penis away and zipping up. ‘And anyway, you said yourself you like watersports, didn’t you, Kitty?’ he smiled at her sardonically. ‘I printed your checklist from the net to add to your C.V. to make sure nothing gets missed.’ There was a pause. ‘What do you say, slut?’
‘Thank you, Master.’
‘My pleasure. Lie down on the floor and hold your ankles up and apart,’ he instructed, taking a fresh razor from the bathroom cabinet. Kitty felt a further stab of embarrassment as he carefully shaved her, dipping the razor into the bath water every few strokes. When he was satisfied every hair had been removed, he ordered her into the bath water. M’s smile was as cold as
the water as she sat down gingerly, trying to keep as much of her body in the warmer air. ‘Your hair is disgusting,’ he said as her pushed her backwards until her head was underwater. He waited a few seconds and pulled her up again, spluttering and coughing. ‘Right. Sit still.’ He proceeded to shampoo her hair and wash her face and body with a harsh sponge, scrubbing her skin as though trying to remove the still vivid marks from the previous day. He took the shower attachment, rinsed her hair with cold water and then tugged a comb roughly through the knots. M took a toothbrush, rubbed the bristles on the soap.
‘Open your mouth’ He said, and scrubbed her teeth. Kitty gagged at the taste but managed to keep her throat closed. He rinsed her mouth with a couple of handfuls of the dirty bath water and finally pulled the plug. Still dripping and shivering, he lead her downstairs, back on all fours which was far more difficult than going uphill. Kitty saw that the fire had been lit recently, but the kindling wood had burnt and it was about to die. She also saw a pile of underpants and bras in front of the fire.
‘Are you cold, Kitty?’ M enquired.
‘Yes, Master,’ she replied.
‘Well then I suggest you throw some rubbish on the fire,’ he answered pleasantly. Hoping against hope, Kitty looked around for some wood or paper. Nothing. Her shoulders dropped in resignation as she picked up a handful of underwear and threw it on the fire. It flared up and she felt the warmth on her wet skin. Realising there was no point in delaying, she scooped up as much as she could and added it to the flames. The last few scraps of lace soon followed. As Kitty watched another part of her former life disappear, the front door opened.
‘Morning, Maisie. You look nice.’ M said. Look, Kitty, doesn’t Maisie look nice?’
Kitty turned slowly and looked up at Maisie, who was wearing Kitty’s favourite jeans, her expensive pink cashmere jumper and her beloved old leather waistcoat. Kitty stared for a second as the reality of losing not only her underwear but her clothes sank in. Totally forgetting the lead attached to her collar, she started to get up.
‘Hey, they’re my clo....’
She didn’t get a chance to finish as M yanked the lead backwards and stuck his foot out so she tripped and landed flat on her back, winded. In a flash, he was sitting astride her chest with a knee on each of her forearms. She opened her mouth to gasp for air at the same time that he pulled back a fist. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, petrified and struggling to avoid the blow. When it didn’t come, she flicked her eyes open again cautiously. He glared at her, his dark eyes transmitting his fury, but his palms lay flat on his legs. Kitty looked away again, quickly. His voice struggled to remain calm.
‘What do slaves own, bitch?’ She hesitated, trying to remember the exact word he had used the night before. His response was a slow, open-handed slap to her face, snapping it to the left and then another, sending her head back to the right. ‘Nothing, nada, zip, Master,’ she gasped, feeling the stinging heat in her cheeks.
‘Correct.’ He sat back. ‘And if you ever forget that again, you materialistic cunt, I swear I will flay every inch of skin from your worthless body. Understand?’
‘Yes, Master,’ she replied, a sob catching in her throat. He got up and dragged her into the kitchen, not giving her time to get onto her knees. M hooked the leash tightly round the towel rail, spitefully kicked the base of her spine and then sat down with Maisie for a long breakfast. She was given the leftovers; there wasn’t much and it was cold and greasy, but she stuck her head in the bowl gratefully.
Eventually, M finished his coffee and second cigarette and stood up. ‘Right,’ He looked down at Kitty, ‘Time to get you ready for your first photo-shoot.’ He untied the leash and pulled her, more gently this time, into the middle of the living room. ‘Stand up in the display position,’ he commanded. Kitty scrambled to her feet, spread her legs and interlaced her fingers behind her head; elbows out,
breasts thrust forward, spine straight and eyes cast down. ‘Good girl,’ said M. He walked slowly around her, tweaking her nipples to make them stand out, running his hand lightly between her legs. He looked critically at her stomach and she automatically sucked in her breath. You’ve lost a few pounds already, but another ten will help. If we can’t get rid of that fat belly with diet and exercise, we’ll do it with surgery.’ He grasped her waist and dug his hands in.
‘This is easier to adjust,’ he said. ‘Give me the corset, Maisie.’ Maisie wordlessly passed him a stout, heavily boned black waist cincher. Kitty had worn fashion corsets before and loved the illusion of shape they gave her. This one was different. It came just under her breasts and ended about five inches below her waist. M fastened the steel clips at the front and then started tightening the nylon laces at the back, starting at the top and bottom and working towards the middle. Soon Kitty felt her ribcage being constricted and, despite her efforts to remain still, she was pulled back with the force.
‘All fours.’ She dropped at once. He stood over her and continued to adjust the corset, tugging and closing the garment tighter and tighter until Kitty could only breath in short bursts; she felt as if her lungs were about to deflate. Tying it off, he pulled her back to her feet and smiled with satisfaction.
‘Much better,’ he said. ‘That will stay on apart from when you’re being washed and will be pulled in until you have a decent shape.’ Kitty could only nod as she desperately tried to suck in air. M stopped for a moment as he studied her, and then strode to kitchen and returned with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He stuck one in her mouth, lit it and said, ‘Inhale.’ As Kitty fainted she heard him laugh...