Beatrice closed the door behind her, dropped the dead-bolt, the ritual had begun.
Slowly she undressed, hanging up her coat, placing her shoes on the low shelf beneath the few coat hooks. Then her work clothes, these formed a pile on the small table, naked at last she knelt, carefully assuming the pose required of her. To her left, the door, before her, the coats, just three coats, Beatrice only ever bought what was necessary. Taking the shoe box from the low shelf Beatrice laid it before her, the position precise, practised, important. For a moment she paused, a single deep breath, momentary doubt, then opening the lid she laid it upside down, resting against the box.
Printed on the inside of the lid was the mantra now plainly visible to her. Beatrice began to recite. Her tongue savoured every syllable, her soft clear voice rejoicing in every word. There was no need for her to read the words now, that need had long since passed, she could recite them without thought or effort, so deeply were they ingrained upon her memory. But that was not the point, the ritual required she read each word aloud, so that is exactly what she did. Beatrice was pedantic in her obedience.
As the words flowed she felt the change begin, felt her identity shifting. Little by little, word by word, Beatrice surrendered to the change, accepting, welcoming, needing. Her voice hypnotic, her breathing soft, her heart rate slow, rhythmic, setting the cadence of her monologue. As the last word echoed in her mind, she reached out to lift the collar from the box, reverent in her every move, the perfect acolyte. As the wide leather closed around her neck, the lock clicked shut to complete the transformation, Beatrice was no more, the naked collared slave who replaced the lid and put away the shoe box had no name, she was just girl, or it. Sometimes she was given a name, often an obscene word, girl never cared what she was called, all girl dared hope for was to be awarded a slave name, a word, any word, just having a name would recognise her existence.
Girl rose to her feet, her transition graceful as only practise and supple strength allows. A pause, girl bowed her head to the box, paused, stood once more erect, then turned and stepping light as a ballerina she crossed to the bathroom, each step so measured that the ritual was precise to the second. The water running, girl removed what little make-up her alter ego wore before studying herself in the floor length mirror, any delay and the hot water would steamed it up. Girl examined her reflection inch by inch, yet not for a second was she aware of herself. All that girl cared about was obeying the requirements. Her body, her posture, her attitude, her entire being had but one purpose, one focus, to obey utterly every rule.
Satisfied that her body met every requirement, girl stepped into the bath and lowered herself into the unscented water, girl did not deserve luxury, girl was only permitted to scrub herself clean before stepping out to dry herself on the rough worn towel. Once she had touched the big fluffy bath towel that hung over the heated towel rail, but just once, never again, the consequences had been far to painful to ever dare a second touch. Girl had trained herself to ignore every luxury, grateful for those items she was allowed, the worn towel on it's hook in the corner, the cage with it's threadbare carpet where she slept, the cheap plastic bowls she ate and drank from as she knelt in the kitchen. Girl had no possessions, was permitted no access to the luxury around her. Girl wore only what was ordered, did only as she was commanded, lived every moment according to the ritual.
Girl's most treasured memory was of the moment the collar had been granted to her. It was not hers, that was insane, girl owned nothing, not even her collar, girl needed nothing, the ritual provided everything. Scrubbed clean and carefully dried girl hung the old towel back on it's hook, made sure it hung exactly as she had found it, then stepped from the bathroom, turning the light off, the water still draining away from the half filled bath.
Entering the kitchen girl dropped to her hands and knees, careful to keep her back straight and her head up as she crawled across the tiled floor to the corner where her bowls sat on a small mat. Keeping her hands on the tiles girl bent down and lapped from the water bowl before moving to the other bowl containing her food. The dry biscuits had to be chewed a few at a time and girl needed to lap more water after each mouthful to wash the food down. Girl ate every biscuit and licked the bowl clean, before drinking more water. Careful to leave some water for later, girl crawled across the kitchen and out into the laundry room to where her cage stood between the big fridge and the washing machine. Crawling inside girl curled up on the worn carpet and settled down to sleep.
An hour later girl awoke, uncurling as much as the cage allowed, she stretched then on her ands and knees crawled out of the cage, back into the kitchen then over the the small room where she was allowed to prepare herself for the evening's duties. Everything was laid out ready, clothes, shoes, makeup, girl never thought of why an outfit was chosen for her, girl only obeyed the ritual, carefully preparing herself exactly as required. A final check in the mirror and girl walked from the room, stepping carefully once again, graceful, poised, posture perfect. Girl walked to the door, took the Yale key from it's place in the small table's hidden draw and carefully attached it to the front ring on her collar. Then she turned to face the door, adjusting her pose before simply waiting. Girl had once waited all night, girl obeyed each step of the ritual unquestioningly, girl waited.
The limo arrived three minutes late, the driver hurrying to ring the door bell, earnestly apologising, grateful that girl seemed totally unaware of his tardyness. Girl followed the driver to the car, paused as he opened the door, then stepped inside, sinking to her knees as she did so, her back to the luxuriously upholstered seat, girl had never dared to sit on a seat without express permission. The driver followed his own instructions, navigating the darkened city streets as he headed for one of the exclusive suburbs where the houses were rarely visible from the street and the gates opened only when the guards permitted it.
Throughout the drive girl had remained perfectly still, lacking any specific command that is what girl always did, wait, wait for a command, wait for the next step of the ritual, wait. Girl had no worries, girl had no responsibilities, girl simply obeyed. Deep inside, half-hidden even from herself, girl catalogued everything, what, when, how, why, each of her responses, every carefully suppressed emotion, girl's subconscious memorised everything.
The driver opened the door, girl obeyed her instructions, stepping from the car she walked directly to the large front door which opened to admit her. The driver closed the door, checked his watch, it was going to be a long boring wait, walking around the limo he got in and drove around to the rear parking area, already more than half full of chauffeured cars, at least he would have company.
Girl slipped off the floor length hooded cloak and hung it up to join numerous other coats that hung from the hooks provided. Naked but for the full face leather hood, collar and two sets of cuffs, girl followed the maid into the large reception room, then as the maid returned to await the next arrival, girl stepped gracefully across the room to the row of cages that lined one wall, dropping to her knees at the first vacant cage girl crawled inside, turned and lowered her ass to rest on her heels. Girl had no idea what would happen next, girl only knew she would obey.
The large room allowed the numerous guests ample room to enjoy all that was on offer. Some of the guests brought their own slaves, either to serve them or to watch others make use of them. A larger number attended alone or with friends, confident that there would be plenty of slaves available to them when required, either those belonging to other guests or those that the house provided. Whatever a guest might desire, the house had both the facilities and the slaves to ensure it could be fulfilled, at a price.
Girl reacted to the sharp click of fingers snapping. Crawling forward to where the leash dangled she paused as it was attached to her collar, then obeyed the curt command, "heel," she crawled on hands and knees, quickly, so as to keep pace and obey the command. Girl stopped when the leash tugged hard at her collar. Besides her a stout metal pole rose some three feet from the floor, the leash's looped leather end was dropped over the pole, tethering her. On three sides of the square rug there were large sofa's, upon each sat four Masters, the next command kept girl busy for some time, her jaw soon ached, her stomach slowly filling as she sucked each cock in turn, the Masters largely ignoring her, even as she bobbed her head upon their cock, taking care to take each all the way to the hilt, to swallow every drop of cum and lick each cock clean before moving on.
Occasionally a hand would grip her hair, hold her, or force her down until the blackness began to close around her, girl fought to remain passive, gasped for air when the hand finally relented, girl hated the blackness, girl hated the way her body tried to betray her obedience, girl would not allow her body to rebel, girl conquered every impulse that threatened to betray her, betray the ritual. Girl moved from cock to cock, one circuit, a second, unaware how many Masters left or joined the group, unaware of their conversations, girl concentrated on obeying, nothing else mattered.
As girl moved to the next cock, the leash tugged at her collar. "Follow." The voice commanded, girl obeyed, who's voice did not matter to girl, a command must be obeyed. Girl followed the Mistress across the room and out onto the flagstone patio, down three steps and onto the manicured perfection of the lawn, the lush grass lit by lanterns around the edges and the coloured lights that shone up into the huge trees. The leash jerked girl to a halt. "Pee." Girl spread her legs wider, focused on her bowels and let go a stream of pee. The leash jerked once more and girl followed at heel once more, careful to keep pace and maintain her position exactly. Back across the patio, back into the large room, back into a cage, the door slammed even as girl turned to assume her position, the padlock snapped shut, girl settled down to wait.
Across the room Sir Richard was enjoying two of his favourite pleasures. Fucking a competitor both commercially and literally, whilst at the same time conversing with his peers, who bore witness to his latest conquest. Inheriting the family business whilst still young, Sir Richard had single-mindedly conducted what amounted to undeclared war on every competitor in the company's somewhat specialist field. He wielded power as easily as he wielded a whip, and often combined the two. For he was not content to simply garner success, Sir Richard used the many resources at his disposal to destroy anyone who dared challenge him, in business or in any other sphere.
His two personal secretaries accompanied him everywhere, serving their Master in relays, often he would dictate to one whilst buggering the other. Sir Richard employed only male staff, his only use for women was both carnal and sadistic, as each of his four wives had discovered to their cost when the divorce papers proved entirely correct in their assertion that there would be absolutely nothing left of the wealth and possessions they had presumed to be theirs by virtue of marriage. Only his first wife received anything at all after the divorce, and that only due to the two children she bore him. Stephanie spoke to her ex husband only once, having married at eighteen she had thought herself blessed beyond measure and had devoted herself to being the perfect wife, only to find that at twenty-one she was considered due for replacement, Sir Richard's reasoning had left her both speechless and later, motivated. "Any wife of mine need only be young, dumb and full of cum." His crudeness was the least shocking of his actions. Stephanie found herself discarded with a meagre allowance in lieu of access to her children. She was only informed of her son's death three years after the tragic accident.
Sir Richard dispensed but his seed and his vengeance upon his erstwhile rival before gabbing a passing slave and forcing the girl to her knees to lick clean his substantial and still tumescent erection. Everything about Sir Richard was powerful, in every sense. Discarding with the slaves services Sir Richard settled back with a brandy to survey the room, he appetite not nearly sated.
It was not unusual for guests to arrive late, or to arrive masked, the tall Mistress did both. The polished black leather and white silk revealed little and promised much. A golden mane that fell below her shoulders and the effervescent blue eyes were all the more striking set against the monochrome outfit that clung and flowed as the tall Mistress strode into the room.