Chapter 9

The day started as usual with my accustomed simple routine. An early morning pot of tea in the study as I review the days plans. Today '7's' routine would be interrupted although it would start the same, my girl kneeling before me as I hand fed her breakfast. Such things form a bond of intimacy and become treasured moments. Once breakfast was consumed, things changed. Not since the early days had I sat watching as my girl returned to the cell and prepared herself. '7' showed neither embarrassment or hesitation, even though the change of routine signalled a new and unexpected step. It was not long before my girl was once again kneeling in place, awaiting my command.

Whilst '7' was preparing, Gore had moved a table into position on the other side of the dungeon and laid out '7's' new outfits before setting up the camera equipment. '3' joined him, both completed their tasks and waited as I led my girl across the dungeon to join them.

Standing with her back to the table, '7' kept perfectly still, moving only when hands guided her movements, yet her eyes danced with excitement. Every girl loves to play 'dress-up' and my girl had become so accustomed to being naked that her new outfit was an unexpected surprise. First I placed the white leather collar around her pretty neck, centring the silver '7' perfectly. Gore started with her new shoes, custom made for her, yet identical to those worn by the others when dressed in the house uniform. The special moulded soles formed perfectly to her feet, rising from the two inch heels the white leather formed a sturdy yet delicate ankle strap complete with locks whilst a series of fine leather strands followed the contours of her feet, forming the look of a slave sandal, simple yet elegant.

Next the white leather body harness. '3' adjusted each strap and buckle, marking it before Gore took it aside to punch the single hole for each buckle and trim the excess from the straps. Soon my girl's body was framed by the criss-crossing white leather, each buckle perfectly placed, each of the built in rings positioned to restrain or support as desired. The matching padded wrist cuffs completed the basic outfit. '3' spent a few minutes brushing my girls newly styled hair before adding the final layer, the black lace strips.

The strips of sheer black lace attached at the hips and ankles, another ran from collar to wrist. Finally the diamond shaped front piece that attached to the front of the collar, widening to where it was attached so as to just leave exposed the nipples before tapering down to attach over her mons.

Next the photographs, a series of poses, each one a position that '7' had been trained to adopt with perfect posture, each now recorded, lastly the special pose, the one I had waited so long to have taken, the one to fill the empty frame in the study. My girl looked stunning, the white leather and black lace declaring her status, her beauty and grace accented by the mixture of submission and spirit that sparkled in her eyes and the smile that declared her joy in service.

The photographs completed '7' was soon naked once more, the first outfit placed to one side. First a few moments break whilst I held a glass to my girl's lips to drink, then on to the next one so that training could begin.

First the boots, the clear resin fitted my girl like a second, though rigid skin, lifting her on the five inch heels, yet supporting her completely so that they could be worm comfortably for hours. Their design was that of a stylised pony-girl's boots, the high heels shaping her already firm thighs and adding to the allure of her perfect ass. The waist chain was next, the wide band of interlocking links forming a secure yet flexible band across her toned belly, shaped to follow the curve of her hips, the attachment rings perfectly placed front and back as well as over each hip. The matching collar circled her neck, a slight adjustment all that was necessary to ensure a snug fit, whilst identical wrist cuffs and a second pair that fitted just above the elbows completed the basic outfit.

Lifting each wrist in turn, I used a small snap link to attach the wrist cuffs to the rings over my girl's hips, then a short chain to link those above her elbows, thus immobilising her arms, though with a tendency to lean slighting forward. To correct that, I inserted an anal hook, pushing the ball all the way in until it impaled her some five inches, the shaft resting against her back. A chain attached to the hook's ring then ran up her spine, threaded through the rings in her waist belt and the chain linking her elbows before attaching to the ring on the back of her collar. Now her posture was perfect, back arched, shoulders back, arms neatly restrained, she stood, feet apart, head held high, splendid in her arousal.

The final touches were more than just decorative, first the earrings, short chains ending in a ball, a second pair attached to the harness just above her breasts, their length ensured that any movement would cause the chains to brush her upper breasts, whilst the ball would tap and torment her engorged nipples. Last the chain that dangled down over her mons, the ball set to align with her swelling clit.

Whilst I worked, '3' had gathered my girls beautiful long hair into a ponytail, clinching it high on her head with a matching ring and clasp. Standing back I studied my girl, her trim toned body poised and perfect, the flush of arousal testament to her excitement at being dressed in such a manner. Taking up the crop, I smiled as '3' slipped the blindfold over her eyes.

Long hours of practise allowed '7' to walk confidently, trusting my directions to guide her, responding to each touch of the crop. Leaving the dungeon we followed the route up stairs and out into the gardens. The feel of the sun upon her skin obviously welcome as she almost pranced, eager to enjoy the warm spring morning and the zephyr breeze that teased her skin it's touch reminding her of her nakedness and total exposure. The lesson lasted all morning, pausing only briefly to allow my girl a sip of cool water.

Soon enough '7's' smooth clear skin was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. The moves that she knew so well were not as easy when restrained as she was. It took many repetitions and several sharp reminders with the crop before she finally learned to complete each movement with the deceptive grace and fluid movement I required. Then came a new experience, running. I used a long line and a schooling whip to guide '7' in a wide circle upon the lawn. Her spirit and determination to serve me prevented any hesitation, though it took several revolutions before she became used to running blind.

Meanwhile the anal hook and it's ball had provided a constant stimulation which now brought a new challenge. My girl experienced her first ever orgasm whilst continuing to run. The lack of a gag meant she had permission to moan, sigh, scream, anything but speak, at first she tried to bite back her screams, perhaps a latent sense of modesty deterred her from screaming her orgasm to the world. The teasing chains and balls foiled any attempt at false modesty, their constant stimulation of her nipples and clit, especially whilst running, set a rhythm not to be denied.

Only after a second equally intense orgasm did I finally guide '7' back down to the dungeon where '3' awaited us. I left the girls to their duties and headed away for my own lunch. '3' deftly removed '7's' entire outfit, laying it aside before guiding '7' into the shower to wash and play. Refreshed they shared their lunch and relaxed, as usual sitting cross legged upon the bed, fingers entwined, talking and giggling, resting before the afternoon's tasks.

Their break over, '3' first had '7' stand whilst she oiled her entire body, massaging the scented oil into her skin until she glistened under the lights. Only then did '3' dress my girl again, fitting each piece just as before, cleaning and lubricating the ball of the anal hook before pressing it deep inside, adding a teasing twist as she settled it into position and attached the back chain. Finishing her task, '3' left her sister slave standing at 'present' to await me, before slipping away to prepare herself.

This time I led my girl back out to the garden without a blindfold, the crop gently reminding her to concentrate on her task and not look around at her surroundings. Out on the lawn '3' awaited us, now dressed identically to my girl and accompanied by two girls that '7' had never seen before. All four girls presented a breathtaking sight, their identical outfits glinting in the sun, oiled bodies glistening, their perfect posture drawing attention to their lithe bodies and obvious sensuality.

Handling four girls requires a skill born of long experience, the crop is not suitable so I had exchanged it for a light buggy whip, capable of reaching any of my girls, a soft tap to indicate my wish, or a harder lash, should it be needed. All four obediently followed my directions, oblivious to the gathering audience. Their concentration centred upon my commands and their instant obedience, all whilst maintaining their balance and posture.

By the time I rested them, allowing each to sip cool water from an offered glass, the audience had swelled, and '7' became aware of them for the first time. Before she could become distracted the break was over and all four were soon running in a wide circle, all aware of their growing arousal, only '7' concerned at the audience watching her.

Their first orgasms were ragged, each enduring the sensual torment in their own time. A few sharp commands and my girls braced themselves to suffer without release. The audience remained at a distance, even so I had noticed that many of them there would be attending the forthcoming party, indeed many would no doubt join in the bidding. Why not show them what perfect trained slaves were capable of?

I gradually increased the pace of my girls, all in step, each girl sharing every sensation in concert. The brush of the chains across the upper slope of their breasts, the insistent tapping of the balls upon each tender swollen nipple, the more violent tattoo of the balls bouncing upon their engorged clits, driving them to near distraction, unable as they were to prevent each evil sway and bouncing blow. Their breath now faster and increasing, not just from the fast pace, but from the impending orgasm each fought to deny.

Finally I gave the order, my voice clear and raised slightly to ensure the audience could hear that single command "Cum for your Mistress." The audience watched as all four cried out in unison, screaming in tormented ecstasy, bodies trembling, muscles writhing as they fought to keep pace whist surrendering to undeniable need, submitting utterly to the pleasure and pain, all with a single all encompassing desire, to please their Mistress.

I was indeed pleased.

I guess I woke up early today, because I have to kneel and wait quite long until Mistress enters the dungeon. I don't mind, though. There's no hurry to go anywhere, not without Mistress, and I use the time and the silence to think about what has happened to me. I'm still trying to figure out why I submitted to her, why I willingly, no, eagerly even, do whatever she tells me to do. If anyone had told me two months ago that today I'd be kneeling naked, legs spread, pussy exposed and tits thrust forward, waiting patiently for my Mistress, I'd have shown them the way not to the next whiskey bar but to the nearest funny farm.

And yet here I am, doing exactly that. And I'm not only waiting patiently, I'm actually looking forward to her entering the dungeon, even if it may well be the beginning of a day full of pain and exertions.

Of course there's the orgasms. They are often way better than what I've ever thought possible before. There's no denying that. Furthermore I feel more alive than I have ever felt in my life. But still, that's not quite enough - not even for someone like me - to completely surrender my will and submit myself to someone else. I feel and know that there's something else, but at first I cannot put my finger on it. Then I remember the way she looks at me, as if she looked right into me, into my soul. And there has been something else in that look, some caring, as if she cared for me as a person and not only for my pussy, butt and tits. Those she cares for too, probably, but not only, like most other people.

Dunno if that's it and as a matter of fact it's not too important anymore why I submitted to Mistress. Important is that I did submit to her and that I continue to submit to her.

Today's different than before, that much is clear. Mistress doesn't leave after breakfast but watches me get ready for the day. She leads me to a table as soon as I kneel at her feet again and tells me to assume the 'present' position. I see a camera on a tripod and two of those silvery reflectors out of the corner of my eyes. I know enough about cameras from my time as an assistant to a photographer to see that this is the best equipment money can buy. Humm, so I'll be photographed...

Well, no problem, I've been photographed before plus some quite revealing pics have been all over the press and the i-net following the dead-guy incident. No biggie.

But that episode is history, now I'm standing here and get dressed. First Mistress fits a collar around my neck and a rush of pride runs through me when I see the silver '7' in the front. Then the shoes, not too high, but very sexy. Then a harness made of white leather. It's all very exciting and I'm giddy as a little girl. It's also erotic, by the time '3' begins to attach black lace strips to my arms and legs I'm breathing heavily and I know that my pussy is glistening with my juices like a spider's web with morning dew. I'd like to see myself in a mirror now, but there is no mirror, but I suspect that the whole dress serves just one purpose: To display my body and draw attention to it.