Chapter 6: Bertha and Dex

The next morning, during breakfast, the doorbell rang. Unexpected visitors are quite unusual in my household.

Evidently, Bertha had been trained to make for cover in such circumstances. “Is there somewhere I can hide, Master?” she whispered to me.so

“Don’t worry. The dining room can’t be seen from the front door.”

Mable went to answer. In about two minutes, she returned carrying a small box. “Package for you, Sir,” she said.

I nodded, “It must be the dress I ordered for you, Bertha.”

She seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of wearing clothes, but then perked up. “That means that I can go out in public and see my sister.”

I pulled my cellphone and dialed my father’s number. He answered after two rings.

“How can I help you, Brad?”

I explained how Bertha’s dress had arrived, and how she was anxious to be reunited with Dex. “When would be a good time for us to come over?” I asked.

“Today would be fine. But don’t come over until afternoon.

“Your girl needs to learn some basic social skills. Why don’t you take her out to eat, say for lunch, at a fast food restaurant?”

“That’s a great idea,” I replied.

“Be sure to use the clips I gave you on her.”

I had almost forgotten about them, “I will.”

“See you around two pm,” he said, as he hung up.

I looked at Mable and Gertrude, who both happened to be in the room with me. “We will not be eating lunch or dinner here today. I guess you have the rest of the day off.”

Mable shook her head. “We still have other work to do.”

Gertrude piped in, “The silverware needs a good polishing. Today would be a good time to take care of that.”

After we had finished eating, I escorted Flood back to my bedroom, and had her try her dress on.

It turned out that it fit her perfectly. The sunny yellow color matched her blonde hair, and the scoop neck showed off her impressive cleavage. The length of the dress went just above her knees, so she wouldn’t show off her pussy to the public easily.

My slave did not look happy at all wearing the outfit. The fact that I had selected it for her prevented her from complaining.

“Go look at yourself in the mirror.”

She went to the big mirror in the bathroom and stared at her reflection in stunned silence. “I look ... good,” finally came out of her mouth.

“The only thing that could improve it is for you to iron the creases out of it. They’re left from when it was folded up in the box.”

Flood nodded, “You are right, Master.” She slipped off the dress and pulled out the ironing board.

“While you are doing that, I am going to check my finances on the computer.”

To my girl, I could have said I was going to perform alchemy. It would have had the same meaning to her. “I’ll get this chore done in a few minutes.”

“And my work should be about as long.”

I booted up my portfolio, and saw some disturbing news. One of my stocks, that I had quite a bit of money invested, was going down, and I could not figure out why. I knew my dad had quite a bit of this stock as well. I would need to talk to him about it.

I looked up and Flood was kneeling by the bed, naked. Her dress was lying neatly on the bed.

I realized that I had taken longer than I had planned, poring over my stocks. “Sorry to keep your waiting,” I said.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “It is interesting to see you at work on the computer. I am so amazed at all the things you can make it do.”

“Well, put on your dress. Let’s see how it looks now.”

Flood put it on again, and this time it looked even better.

“Be careful not to let that scoop neckline go too low. We don’t want you to flash your nipples to the public.”

She nodded, not knowing quite why showing her nipples was a bad thing.

“Those titties are mine. They are only for me, our family, or whomever I decide to show them to.”

That clarified things for her. “I understand, Master. I will be careful.”

We had some time to kill before lunch, so I fucked her a couple of times, trying different positions I had seen on the internet. Most of them proved to be more work than the payoff. But Flood was a more than willing guinea pig.

Around eleven am, we went and showered. It was still too early for lunch, so I decided that I would further my slave’s education about the real world. “How would you like to go for a car ride?”

Flood nodded, “I’ve ridden in the back of a panel truck, but I’ve never ridden in a car. I’d like to actually seen the outside world.”

“Well, it’s time you did.”

She put on her new dress. Again, it looked even better pressed.

“You need to be careful with that neckline. If you are not careful your nipples might slip out.”

She nodded in agreement, though I am not sure she understood why showing her nipples were a bad thing.

Before we left, I remembered what my father had said. I retrieved the labia clip out of my bedside drawer.

“Stand still and spread your legs,” I ordered her.

I ducked under her skirt and came face-to-face with my slave’s bare pussy.

I didn’t know where to place the clip, so I put it on right underneath her clit.

She gave out a little gasp as the clip snapped onto her pussy lips. “What did you just do?” she asked.

“Just a little gadget you are to wear whenever you are dressed.”

“And you’ll remove it when I am naked again?”

“That’s right.”

“Good.”

I took her out to my silver BMW convertible.

“So pretty!” she exclaimed.

I showed her how to open the car door, and how to put on the seat belt.

Flood looked around her with wide eyes as I pulled out of the driveway.

I drove slowly through the neighborhood, letting her acclimatize to the wide-open world. We drove by the school I went to until puberty hit. It was lunchtime, and there were lots of kids outside playing on the swings and monkey bars.

“So many children!” she said to me softly. “And they are all wearing clothes.”

“That’s right, Flood, most children wear clothes most of the time.”

She did not know how to react to that.

I took her out onto a major street to look at all the people and cars.

She seemed in awe. “So many people. So many cars. I had no idea!”

I pulled onto the highway and drove about five miles, before I turned around and drove back.

Along the way, Flood read store signs and billboards, sounding out words with mixed success. When she could not identify what type of business she was looking at, she would ask me, and I would do my best before she asked about another one.

I pulled off the highway about five miles from my father’s house, and pulled into a McDonald’s.

“Is this where we are going to eat?” she asked.

“You’ve never heard of McDonald’s? Flood, you really have led a sheltered life.”

“I know that, Master. I appreciate you opening the world to me.”

We went in. There were two lines in front of the cashiers, each five people long.

Flood cowered behind me. “Too many people,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry. I will make sure nothing happens to you.”

That seemed to reassure her. She stood beside me, with her head bowed.

I figured that she had no idea what to order, so I ordered for her. I got myself a Quarter Pounder and large coke. For my girl, I got her a Big Mac and a large diet coke. I also got a large fry that we could split. After we got our food, we walked to a booth. I expected Flood to sit across from me, but she instead snuggled up next to me.

My slave turned more than a few heads. With her killer figure, revealing cleavage, a set of nipples almost punching a hole underneath, and wearing a collar around her neck and one on each wrist and ankle, I could imagine what they were thinking. “What porn movie has she been in?” After all this is the San Fernando Valley. The porn industry’s answer to Hollywood.

Flood made a big mess out of her Big Mac. The middle bread and one of the patties pushed out, so about a third of it was on the wrapper when she was done with the burger.

I remembered back to the first time I had eaten one, when I was about five years old. Much the same thing happened to me. I told her that and she felt much better.

Her favorite item, by far were the french fries. She gobbled down most of them, leaving just a few for me. But I didn’t mind. Just watching her experience new things was a treat for me.

As we were leaving the restaurant, Bertha looked at me anxiously, “How long until we get to your father’s house, Master?”

“Not long. We just need to stop at one place, and then we will go there. Why?”

She blushed, “It is just that ... that clip is starting to hurt.”

I nodded, “I’m sure it does. But you will have to deal with your discomfort until we get there.”

“I will, Master,” she said, as a tear trickled down her face.

I headed over to a Dairy Queen, and bought us a dipped cone in the drive-thru.

It was another first-time experience for Flood. She watched me eat, then imitated me. As a result, she did not make a total mess of it.

“Did you enjoy your ice cream?”

She nodded with a smile, “It was not like any ice cream I’d ever had, Master.”

“It’s called soft-serve. I’m glad you liked it.”

I had pulled into the DQ’s parking lot so that I could finish my cone undistracted.

I took out my cell phone. “I need to call my dad, and let him know we are on our way.”

I dialed him up, talked to a few seconds and hung up. “He said we were early. We need to wait twenty minutes.”

Wide-eyed, my slave tried to fall onto her knees inside my car, with less than spectacular results. “Please, Master! Have mercy on me! Remove the clip. I promise I’ll do anything you say.”

“How do you disobey me now?” I asked softly.

She was stymied, “Nothing, but it hurts so bad, Master!” She was crying openly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I patted her head, “Be patient, Slave. You’ll be free of it soon.

“Let’s find something that will distract you.”

There was an animal shelter nearby. I took her there to see the puppies up for adoption.

She, with all the other people there, cooed over all the cute little balls of fluff. “I wish my family in Florida had a pet.”

I smiled, “They did. Your mother was your father’s pet. He didn’t need any more.

“Just as you are my pet. One I plan to keep a long time.”

Bertha blushed and nodded, not knowing if she had just been flattered or insulted.

After just a few minutes, it was time to leave.

Although she would normally have wanted to stay longer, she was anxious to get her dress off, and that labia clip off.

The ride was not long, but Flood spent the whole ride squirming in her seat. In her mind, we could not get there quick enough.

I pulled into the drive. My father was waiting by the drive, like the last time.

He gave me a big hug, “Brad, it’s good to see you again.”

His attention became fixed on my girl. “Bertha is it? Good to meet you with a proper name this time. And what a nice dress you have on!”

She was the closest I had ever seen her to being rude. “Good to see you, Sir. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get inside.”

She raced for the front door. Unfortunately, for her, it was locked. She stood by the entrance, jumping up and down, like she had to pee badly.

My dad smiled, “You used the labia clip.”

I nodded, “I think using it one more time will be enough to make sure that she doesn’t long for clothing.”

He laughed, “You’re probably right. Keep it handy, just in case.”

I nodded.

Together we walked at a leisurely pace toward my frantic slave.

Near the front door of both my father’s and my own house, was a small closet where the slaves could store their clothes. I had never used mine, but I would after today.

After we were all inside, and the front door was closed, Bertha frantically pulled the dress over her head. I was afraid she was going to rip some seams.

“Please take the clip off, Master,” she begged.

I shook my head, “First, you must hang your dress up neatly in the closet.”

She let out what was a mixture of a sob and a groan. With effort she hung up the sunny yellow dress.

I then knelt before my slave. I would have had her lay down on the couch, but Bertha was in some serious pain, and I didn’t want to lengthen her torment any longer.

“Spread your legs, Slave,” I ordered.

With a whimper, she complied.

Looking between her legs, I saw the problem. At some point my girl got sexually aroused. The clip, just under the clit, prevented that part of her labia from swelling and spreading, like the rest. That caused a lot of pain as the clip pulled painfully.

With great care, I pressed both clips at the same time, releasing the captive pussy.

Bertha let out a moan, part relief and part pain. “Oh! Thank you so much, Master.”

I found it ironic that she was thanking the person that had inflicted the device on her in the first place.

It took a few minutes for her to recover, and recall where she was and why she was there.

“My sister is here, isn’t she?” she asked hopefully.

My father, who had been watching the proceedings, nodded. “She’s waiting in the bedroom.”

My girl bolted toward the hallway.

I yelled, “Hey! Slave!”

She froze in her tracks, “Yes, Master?”

“Where do you think you are going?”

Bertha’s voice fell to a whisper, “To see my sister.”

“Without my permission?”

She fell to her knees. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“You can go see Dex. But you need to go with me and my father.”

She nodded her bowed head. “I understand, Sir.”

I walked over and raised her head to meet my gaze. “Good. Now, let’s go see your sister.”

We walked down the hall, with Bertha trailing behind us.

“Well done, son,” my dad whispered to me.

In my father’s bedroom, which was in the exact same location as mine at home, Dex was kneeling by the bed, her head bowed.

We parted, allowing my slave access to the room. Looking to me for permission this time. I nodded.

She walked between us and looked in with some trepidation. “Sis?” she said.

“Sis!” said Dex, raising her head.

In a second, the two were in each other’s arms, hugging. Their naked bodies plastered together. They broke their embrace, looked into their eyes and then kissed in a more-than-sisterly manner.