Chapter 17

She was lying on her stomach because the tight floor length hobble skirt would only allow her to bend her knees only a little. The leather skirt was open in the back leaving her ass exposed. An anal hook was embedded in her ass and was connected to a ball gag harness by a rope. The rope was adjusted so that Page's back had to be slightly bent backwards. To see what she was doing Page had to put most of her upper body weight on her breasts. Moving meant pulling herself along the floor an inch or so at a time with her left hand, as her right hand was cuffed to her waist, causing her tits to press into and slid across the hardwood floor. Her slow progress across the floor was not a problem. Page was cleaning the baseboards in the one of the hallways of the condo. She was using a toothbrush to clean and she had been hard at work for over three hours. Every few minutes she turned her head enough to catch sight of Willow. She was in the exact same bondage and was doing the same job in the main salon. For the past week, ever since Page had asked Carl to treat her like a slave, the days had developed a pattern. The morning activities had involved menial cleaning and housework and always in some bondage.

The day after Page had made her request, Willow and Page had been preparing breakfast when Carl came into the kitchen. They had had almost eight hundred dollars' worth of groceries delivered the day before, making sure to use cash and Carl meeting the delivery man downstairs. They had ordered anything and everything that they thought they would need. Carl went to the pantry and looked at what was there and stood for a few minutes contemplating the possibilities.

Breakfast has consisted of poached eggs and grits. Carl had developed a taste for grits while on assignment for the DEA in Florida. Page and Willow were not fond of them and only ate a spoonful. When everything had been cleaned and put away, Carl ordered the girls into the room where they had been storing their bondage gear.

Carl had stayed up all night thinking about Page's request. He realized that he was experiencing something long forgotten. He was afraid. He was not sure if he was afraid of acting like a Master and delivering pain to Page and Willow, or if it was that he would do so and like it. He had decided that he needed more information. He used his computer to research Master and slave practices and find a place; a path that would meet Page's needs but not force Carl into areas that he could not tolerate. He had associated much of the culture with whips and such. What he discovered was that there was more than one way to treat a slave like a slave.

In the bondage room Carl ordered Page and Willow to stand close together. He had chosen leather cuffs and straps because he was not experienced with rope yet. He had Page and Willow put on heavy cuffs on their wrists and ankles, and a heavy bondage belt around their waists. He then sent them to find some high heels while he gathered up the rest of the gear. When they returned, he used locks to attach Page's right ankle to Willow's left. He them used straps and locks to do the same to the legs just above the knee and high up on their thigh. The same process was repeated to join Page's right hand and arm to Willow's left. The waist belts were connected by a short chain. The girl's free hand was cuffed to the bondage belt. Carl then retrieved two ring gags and secured them in place. He then ordered them back to the kitchen.

Moving locked together like the girls were was a challenge that would take some practice to master. It was further hampered by their different heights and stride lengths. They managed to get to the kitchen in time to see Carl pulling their largest mixing bowl out of the cabinet. He took it over to the pantry and again stood for a moment contemplating. He then took out the box of grits, a box of small elbow pasta, sugar, kosher salt, olive oil, maple syrup and uncooked rice. He then retrieved six eggs and the jug of milk from the refrigerator. He placed the mixing bowl in the middle of the kitchen floor and tore open the different packages of dry good and poured them into the bowl. Not all of it made it into the bowl. Much of it ended up on the counter and floor. Carl thought there was something obscene about watching the desecration of such a beautiful and pristine kitchen. It became worse as the oil, eggs, syrup and milk were added to the bowl and floor. He took a large wooden spoon and mixed the morass for a moment. Carl then used the spoon to sling the foul mixture all over the kitchen cabinets, sink, floor and counters. As a finale, he had the girls kneel down and poured the remaining contents of the bowl over their heads.

Carl had thought at some point they would cry out or object. Even as some of the slop was poured over their heads, the girls did not make a sound. He did not know about the fishbowl task. To the girls, pouring a sticky mess on their heads was bush league.

"Clean it up," Carl said and walked out. Hobbled as they were it took them four hours to restore the kitchen and themselves to order. Carl had watched from the hallway a few times. As they knelt scrubbing the floor together, their asses were displayed. Later when he looked in on them, they were cleaning the cabinet doors and the action made their breasts bounce in a very erotic dance.

When they were done, they presented themselves to Carl. He went and inspected their work and was not surprised to find every surface clean and every trace of the mess removed. He then inspected them, but they had showered together to get clean. In the process of inspecting them, Carl ran his hands across their bodies. He had been watching and now was touching...

Carl ordered them to their knees one more time linked side by side. Carl took out his cock and thrust into Willow's mouth still held open by the ring gag. After a few moments he switched over to Page and continued. Carl thrust for a moment then switched back again. He had been getting worked up for hours and did not last long. He had not meant to pull out when he came; he just got too excited to control his movements. However the results were that both Willow's and Page's freshly cleaned faces were now sticky again with his cum. Carl staggered back and told them to go to the bondage room and release themselves. Carl went to go sit down and recover.

Released from the bondage, a few minutes later Willow and Page came into the main salon and knelt at Carl's feet. Carl was shocked to see his cum still on their faces. "Don't you want to clean up?" Carl asked.

"May we sir?" Page asked.

"Sure."

Willow scooted over near Page and began licking the cum off of her face and tits. While she did that Page never took her eyes off of Carl's face. When she was done, Willow moved back in place and Page slid over to her and repeated the process. The actions were completed when the two slaves kissed, passing his cum back and forth once more.

Carl stared for a minute before dismissing the girls to exercise. As they walked off together, Page heard Willow softly mutter, " ... serving the purpose..." Page had to smile.

The next day the task was cleaning and polishing every plate, glass, pot, fork, spoon and knife in the condo. He made them stack everything in the middle of the clean kitchen floor before dumping cooking oil, pepper, flour and more eggs over the stacks. This time the girls were not tied together. Instead, one ankle was tied to their thigh, while the other foot was strapped into a five inch high heel shoe. Working together they got the dishes and pots cleaned and stacked in just under three hours.

This time Carl was determined to find a mistake. He examined the bar glasses carefully and finally found water spots on the bottom of one. Carl looked down on the kneeling slave and said, "This is unacceptable. I will give you a choice. You can get five crop strokes on the ass or two across the tits. Either way, you will rewash all the glassware. Choose."

Page said with her head bowed, "Tits sir."

Willow swallowed and said "Ass sir."

Carl pretended to fly into a rage, "What? You two can't get it together on a simple question? No wonder you can't complete a simple task like washing a glass! Now both of you will get five across the ass and two on your tits. Go get two crops. Now!"

The only way to move, hobble as they were, was to crawl so both took off towards the bondage room. A minute later they were both back holding crops in their teeth. Carl told Page to stand up and put her hands on the counter and stick her ass out. He instructed Willow to step behind and to the side of Page.

"Willow, you may begin," Carl said.

Carl turned so as not to see and thought to walk away, but stopped when he heard the crack of the crop on flesh. He then heard Page's strong voice say, "That is one stroke of five. There are four more to come. This slave is grateful for the privilege to serve." Carl's first thought was maybe Willow had not hit her very hard. He turned to ask if Willow was taking it easy on Page just as she was swinging for the second time. Carl watched the crop drive into Page's beautiful backside. He watched in fascination how the impact radiated out and her leg fought to keep her upright in the awkward one-legged pose. Her ass writhed to absorb the sting. He watched as the red mark bloomed into existence. Carl was still transfixed by the sight when the third blow fell. This time he wanted to watch, ached to watch, the crop meet the flesh. He was so focused he did not hear Page's words thanking Willow for the stroke. He was committed now to see this through. The final two were as captivating as the first three. Carl realized to his shock he was aroused.

Page then turned around so that she could receive the two stokes to her breasts. She braced herself by placing her hands behind her back and holding on to the countertop. Carl had been using a script he had seen online to dictate the punishments, but now was having second thoughts. Page's breasts were so beautiful, how could he allow someone... ?

"Willow, hold for a moment," Page said. She turned and looked at him and said, "Master Carl, what do you see?"

"I ... I see you Page," he muttered.

"But what are you looking at?"

"I was ah ... looking at your ti ... ah, your breasts," Carl sounded like a teenager caught staring at an older girl.

"You mean my tits? You used that word already today. Do you think they are pretty?" Page reached around and cupped her breasts, lifting them towards Carl's gaze.

"Yes, they are beautiful." Carl said.

"But sir, right now they are magic tits ... tits like in a magazine or movie. They may or may not be real. They look ... so perfect that you are afraid to touch them." Page purred. She moved her hands back to the counter and then looked at Willow and give her a nod. Two quick, hard blows rocked her tits. Two angry red stripes appeared across both breast, one under the nipples and the other just over. Page took a moment to recover then reached out for Carl. He took her hand and allowed her to pull him closer.

"Oh sir, look?" she said as she ran her finger down the bottom mark. "I don't have magic tits any longer. See? Please sir, touch them. Can you feel the welt?" Carl ran his trembling finger along the red line.

"Magic tits, the ones in pictures that are so perfect, cannot be touched, felt, squeezed, stroked, slapped, pinched or bitten. These are not magic tits. These marks prove it. These are better." Page placed her hand over Carl's and pressed it into her left breast. "These are better for two reasons. These are real and they are yours to do with as you please. Look at the mark. You did that, even if it was Willow swinging the crop. This ... this is your mark, your claim. It says you can do anything you want to these tits. Mark them. Fuck them. Cut them. They are yours." Page spun around. "See? This is your piece of ass."

Page then reached over and roughly turned Willow towards the counter. With no warning she took her own crop and laid five stripes on Willow's ass then roughly turned her again and completed the punishment strokes across Willow's breasts. Page grasped Willow's breasts. "Sir, these are your too. Your marks, your tits, your ass. We are not dolls that will get broken if you play with us. There is no perfection to preserve. Fuck us! Make us suck your cock! As fakes and some illusion of perfection, we are replaceable by some other fantasy. We want to be your reality, your desire, your favorite toy and game."

Page pushed Willow down to the floor face down and ass up. "Play with your toy," she said as she unbuckled his belt. Carl dropped to his knees and sank his engorged cock into the eighteen year old slave. As he thrust in and out he ran his finger alone the red lines on Willow's ass.

One of the disadvantages to living in such a private and remote place as Rose House is how it limits choices such as where to buy groceries, or gas. Both San Jose and Santa Cruz have a wide selection but they are less than convenient being at least forty five minutes away if traffic is perfect. Even worse is the limited number of options for doctors and hospitals. However, since relocating to San Francisco, (people in the area simply call it 'The City'), shops, supplies and professionals by the hundreds were only a few blocks away.

One of the areas that Willow had neglected in her past life was dental care. It was Page's goal that Willow be as perfect for Lord Blackmon as possible so Page brought the issue of getting Willow's teeth cleaned and fixed up to Carl in the afternoon on the ninth day they were in the condo.

Carl was working on the computer and thinking about how he could find out how the investigation of the slave rescue was going. He needed to be careful that no one associated him with the "Master Carl" that had appeared on the guest role. He was thinking about how he might get access to the computer files when he noticed Page kneeling at the door to the office. Page had imposed some formal rules of manners while in the condo. One of those was how a slave could enter a room without being summoned. She and Willow would kneel at the door until recognized and given permission to enter. The kitchen, bathroom and slave quarters had been given exemptions but Page insisted that the protocol be followed everywhere else. Carl simply said, "Come."

Page knelt down next to the chair where Carl had been working. "Speak," he commanded. Once when he had done that, she had looked up and said "Woof." They had both been wracked with laughter so hard Willow had peeked in to make sure they were ok.

Today there was no joke or pun. Page reminded Carl of the discussion from weeks ago about Willow's teeth and that now was an ideal time to address the issue. Carl agreed but saw a problem. Most dentists would not work on slaves. One reason had to do with the cost of a slave. It was cheaper to buy another slave than have their teeth fixed. The other problem was that it freaked out the staff and other patients. Page had been doing some research looking at local dentists and thought she might have a solution. She explained her plan to Carl and he agreed, reluctantly.

So about an hour later Carl got out of the parked Ranger Rover and walked up to an unremarkable medical office building. It had seen better days and would probably soon be torn down to make way for the high-rise mega condo buildings that were sprouting up all over the city. But in the meantime its current first floor tenants were a hearing aid dispenser, a dermatologist and a foot doctor. Up the stairs with the tattered carpet was the second floor where there were two dentist offices. One specialized in dentures. The other was the dentist that Page had targeted. He was in his late fifties and had been living in the same house for thirty three years. He was married with grown children that had moved away. His wife had Alzheimer's and had nurses that sat with her while her husband was at work. He took care of her in the evening. His practice, by the reports online, was small and seemed to always closing early.