Chapter 12: Faye. Friday Week 4 of Tessa’s stay.

I’m woken at seven thirty with the mug of hot coffee I included in my orders to Slave Tessa last night. So far she has been successful in carrying out my orders correctly. Slave Tessa’s inexperience at being a personal slave has only occasionally been evident. I had to tell her that a bath slave washes her mistress from inside the bath, and not from the side. At least she didn’t baulk at the intimacy that sharing a bath creates.

Nor did Slave Tessa complain about being made to sleep inside the cage. As it’s her first time in my charge, I left the cage door unlocked overnight. I’ve experienced instances when new slaves have panicked when waking in a locked cage. At least the unlocked cage meant Slave Tessa could rise and make my morning coffee without me needing to release her.

“Did you sleep well, Slave Tessa?” I ask. “Were you warm enough with a single blanket?”

“Yes, Madame,” replies Slave Tessa, not falling for the trap of saying otherwise.

I doubt that Slave Tessa slept easily. The length of the cage means that a slave needs to sleep in a foetal position. The mattress is little more than a thin foam mat, and the blanket is made of coarse wool that probably irritates her skin. I know I could never sleep in that situation, but then, I’ve no intention of ever being imprisoned in a small cage.

“Do you remember the orders I gave you last night, Slave Tessa?” I ask.

“Yes, Madame.”

“Then list them and tell me which ones are done.”

“Last night you told me to clean the bath after we had finished, Madame. That’s done. Then I was to...”

“Okay, you can skip last night’s duties since you’ve clearly completed them. What have you done so far this morning?”

“I’ve made my bed, Madame. Completed my morning ablutions. Laid out your clothes. Made your coffee. Prepared your breakfast...”

“Good. At least you can remember orders, Slave Tessa. Now bring me my breakfast. I’ll have it in bed.”

I’m impressed at Tessa’s ability to remember orders, and carry them out in the correct sequence. However, I’m slightly disappointed that there’s nothing I can legitimately punish her for doing, or not doing. I’m going to need to change my tactics.

After Tessa has cleared away my breakfast tray, I roll out of bed and use the bathroom. I dress in my leather dominatrix outfit even though I instructed Tessa last night to lay out one of my dresses. I go through to the living room where I find Tessa kneeling patiently on floor awaiting my further orders. There’s a slight look of surprise when she sees me in my outfit, but she quickly resumes her neutral expression. I’ve nothing arranged until afternoon tea with Violet, so Slave Tessa and I have time for some fun ... well, fun for me, at least.

“Now, my beautiful Buttercup, you are to provide me with your best effort at pleasing my inner desires,” I say as I sit down on the couch.

My order is deliberately vague. It’s unreasonable to expect Slave Tessa to know what my inner desires might be. Particularly as I’m not entirely sure myself, but that’s beside the point. The last two slaves who attempted to carry out this order failed miserably. Their backsides and tits suffered as a consequence. However, they weren’t Buttercups, so their failure is hardly surprising. Can Tessa do better? Part of me hopes that she will, while part of me would be happy to warm those delicious peaches tantalisingly visible under her skirt.

Slave Tessa goes into the bedroom to retrieve my collection of restraints and sex toys. She deposits them at the edge of the rug, strips herself naked, and promptly proceeds to demonstrate her skills at self bondage. She has clearly done this sort of thing before, and I mentally berate myself for not discovering her fetish for this during yesterday’s interrogation. She’s well and truly immobilised by the time she has finished. I’m not even sure that she could free herself unaided. But there’s no need to probe her ability to do that at the moment. The sight of her bound in such a helpless and erotic position has me reaching between my legs and running my other hand over my tits.

“Punish me, Madame,” says Slave Tessa. “I’ve been a naughty slave.”

I can’t tell whether Tessa is aroused by her actions, but I know I certainly am. I had no preconceived idea of what would qualify as ‘pleasing my inner desires’, but I’d be hard pressed to find anything better. I reach for a light flogger and proceed to tease Slave Tessa with playful slashes across her tits. Her gasps and moans confirm that she’s in seventh heaven, and that it won’t take much to tip her into an orgasm. However, this isn’t about her pleasure, but mine.

I’m tempted to remove my clothes and have Slave Tessa bury her tongue in my cunt. But that means removing the ball gag. Perhaps we can do that later. For the moment I want to see Slave Tessa squirm and writhe under my control ... silently begging for pleasure that I’ll be happy to deny. I remind myself that Slave Tessa is a Buttercup, and this is exactly the sort of treatment a Buttercup craves. Sexual release is simply a means of coming down from the erotic high of being bound and punished. I feel ecstatic that I’ve discovered a slave who truly appreciates the treatment I want to deliver.

There isn’t much I can add to Slave Tessa’s bondage. A leash on the leather collar is the only addition I make. I make her wriggle her way around the room simply for the pleasure of seeing her struggle to comply. My light flogger is replaced by a crop, which in turn is discarded in favour of a whip. My strokes on Tessa’s arse and tits become progressively harsher, but I’m careful not to draw blood. I’ve no intention of creating open wounds and scars, and I’ve being doing this long enough to know how far I can push a slave. In Slave Tessa’s case, she is remarkably resilient, but I still hold back from hurting her too much.

We play for well over an hour before I decide that I can’t wait any longer for sex. I replace Slave Tessa’s ball gag with a gag that has a large rubber cock attached. The gag can be mounted in two ways, either with the cock pushed down the slave’s throat, or the other way round so she can fuck her mistress. I place some lube on the cock since Tessa has no ability to do so while she is tightly bound. I decide against stripping naked, but instead open the zip on my leather trousers to provide access to my cunt.

Slave Tessa doesn’t need more than a tug on her leash to prompt her to lean forward and push the cock into my cunt. Once the cock is embedded as far as she can manage, she proceeds to pump back and forth. I’m already is a highly charged state of arousal, and although Tessa’s efforts are a little jerky, I soon experience an orgasm. However, I’m not going to be satisfied with just one orgasm. At my command, Tessa succeeds in bringing me to a second orgasm but she is clearly tiring. It can’t be easy manoeuvring the cock while bound so tightly. A considerate mistress would loosen Tessa’s bonds, but I’m not ready to allow her that luxury. She bound herself in this fashion, so I presume she can tolerate the restraints for a while longer.

I don’t detect Slave Tessa achieving an orgasm, but the inside of her thighs are wet with her juices. She’s done well to endure everything we’ve done, but I think she is in need of a rest. Pushing her too hard in our first session might jeopardise the success of future sessions. I close the zip on my trousers and resume sitting on the couch.

“You may release yourself from your bonds and get dressed, Slave Tessa,” I say, tossing the bunch of keys to her cuffs onto the floor beside her.

I watch as Tessa contorts herself into several different positions as she releases herself. It takes her about fifteen minutes to remove every restraint, and then dress. As usual, the lace-up corset is difficult to tie unaided, but I’m satisfied with Tessa’s effort for now.

“We’ll have an early lunch, and then you can have your two hours of free time,” I say. “I’m having afternoon tea with Madame Violet at three o’clock, and I want you in attendance.”