© 2006 Rachel Gumm. You may freely distribute this story digitally, but only in full, crediting me as the author. I welcome feedback.
"I still don't feel any different, master." Jodie sat on the bed, wearing nothing but her collar. Ian rarely permitted her to wear clothes during the evening, except for occasionally ordering her to put on one of the many slutty outfits he'd bought her. She always wore a collar, however: an elegant choker when in public, and her slave collar at home. It constantly reminded her of her position, and more often than not, that alone was enough to keep her in a perpetual state of very mild arousal.
"Give it time," said Ian as he looked down at her, taking in her beautiful curves once more. Going on looks, she was way out of his league. He stood over her, unshaven, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that strangers often looked at them, wondering how he managed to get a woman like Jodie. It was simple. He did something that people like her enjoyed. He fulfilled a role they needed in their lives - and he was good at what he did.
"Remember the time we went to that fancy Chinese restaurant?" reminisced Ian, rummaging around in a bedside drawer. "Beneath that elegant dress of yours, you were wearing those rubber knickers I got you, keeping this little device inside you." He pulled out a miniature vibrating egg. Using its remote control, he turned it all the way up, then back down again, and finally off again. The last time he had to change the batteries half way through what they were doing, it had spoilt the mood. He always learnt from his mistakes.
"I kept you on the verge of having an orgasm for the entire meal," he continued, spreading some lube onto the device and rubbing it around with his finger. He walked up to Jodie, who was already lying down on the bed with her legs spread open, openly revealing herself. It had been months since he'd had to order her to do something obvious like position herself appropriately for something she could see he was about to do. She also learnt from her mistakes.
"When you stifled that gasp, I swear I thought the waiter was going to drop our dessert." Ian slid the egg into Jodie's cunt. Her whimper was so quiet that it was barely audible.
Ian ran his fingers along Jodie's labia before pressing them together.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm fusing your labia together," explained Ian.
Jodie felt her labia tingling and sticking together. She was suddenly overwhelmed by panic.
"What the hell are you doing?" she shouted. She leapt up off the bed and scrambled to pick up her pocket mirror. Studying herself, she almost dropped it in shock.
"I told you." Ian's voice, as always, was completely calm. "I fused your labia together to keep the egg inside you."
Jodie traced a finger along her labia. The join was almost seamless. Putting the mirror down, she tried to prise them apart with her hands. It was no use. They were firmly stuck together, as if she'd been born that way.
"I think it just kicked in," speculated Ian, a hint of excitement sparkling in his eyes. "You'll have to learn to trust me," he said in a more stern, almost disappointed voice. "You'll also have to learn not to talk back to me or run around frantically, no matter how scared you are. You must respect and obey me at all times."
"Sorry, master," apolagised Jodie quietly. She gazed down at the floor.
"I'm sure you'll do better next time," said Ian softly. Perking up, he continued, "but that still won't let you off your punishment. You know the rules. If you can't talk to me with the appropriate amount of respect, you won't be allowed to talk at all."
Jodie nodded, still staring at the carpet. This was the part where he would lock the head harness on her, forcing its bright pink ball gag into her open mouth. When she was aroused, having to wear the harness turned her on even more. It would have been enough to make her purposefully speak out of line in order to have it locked in place on her, were it not for her genuine desire to please her master.
The only down side was that he had a knack of keeping it locked on her even after she had orgasmed and returned to her regular mindset. Having to wear it when she wasn't aroused was a major nuisance, which is why the punishment usually kept her in line when she would otherwise have slipped up. Besides, her master was beginning to run out of excuses for her not being able to answer the phone when her friends called while she was gagged.
"Look at me, my pretty little slave," said Ian, lifting her chin in his hand. She looked up at him, gazing into his authoritative eyes. "Seal your lips together," he ordered.
"Excuse me, master?" asked Jodie, confused. Before Ian had a chance to elaborate, she felt her lips become sticky and merge together the same way her labia had. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he just returned her gaze with a knowing smile, as if he was aware of something she couldn't comprehend.
Jodie scurried to her full-length mirror and, looking at her reflection, let out a loud but completely muffled scream. She no longer had a mouth. Her flesh was seamless: smooth, pale skin from nose to chin, from cheek to cheek.
"Try to remain calm," said Ian in his smooth, calming voice. "I won't let any harm come to you. Do you understand?"
Jodie slowly tore her gaze away from the mirror in order to look up at her master. With a great deal of effort, she took a deep breath, then slowly nodded.
"Good," he said, a reassuring smile crossing his face. "Then let's begin."
Jodie examined the pleated miniskirt Ian had told her to put on moments earlier. She never had liked it very much, but he assured her that it made her look even more attractive than she already was.
Tonight, however, the skirt was different. For a start, she couldn't take it off. Usually when she couldn't take it off, it was because Ian had ordered her not to, but tonight it had actually become a part of her body. She was just as physically incapable of removing it as she was of removing her ears. Even more bizarre was the realisation that - and however inconceivable it seemed, every caress of her own fingers on her skirt confirmed this - it wasn't just any part of her body, but an erogenous zone. She gently stroked it, as if making a small enough motion with her thumb might go unnoticed by her master.
"Go ahead," encouraged Ian. "I'll allow you to grope and fondle yourself as much as you like tonight. Without access to your clit or cunt, you won't be able to orgasm without my permission anyway."