The following is a work of total fiction and intended solely for consumption by
those legally of age and where ADULT MATERIAL is permitted. Strong subject
matter is contained and is for those not easily offended by such.
Any reuse of the material without the author's express consent is strongly
discouraged.
Thank you and enjoy.
Faibhar
Dawn's Conversion
Life for Dawn changed following her first to Klub Knoir (see "New Slave
Dawning"). Soreness around her pussy lip and nipples caused by the piercings
transformed into excitement. Her shiny rust-brown strands grew longer, on Monday
Wednesday and Fridays gave herself enemas and shaved all of her body every other
day.
Her roommate and best friend Suzanne insisted that she wear dresses to her job
at the design agency. The men and women she worked were quick to notice the
change in clothes, but she paid them no heed. She forbade Dawn to wear any
underwear, and that meant stockings too. Suzanne said she was to come back to
the condo immediately from the office, strip and cook Suzanne dinner. Mornings
Suzanne ordered her to take tanning sessions to lessen her tan lines. Evenings
were spent running on the treadmill set up in the living room. Her nipple rings
would be linked to the handlebars by thin chains. As the speed increased, they
would tug and jerk at her breasts. As Suzanne's new slave, Dawn felt her
workouts further leaning out her figure.
Each night following the sessions her senses would be acute and she would beg to
service her mistress. Most nights her wish would be granted.
Suzanne also purchased two dog dishes and following her dinner would cuff Dawn's
wrists behind her back and have her eat simple concoctions from one bowl and lap
water from the other. Watching her pet sup was entertaining, at first, but she
quickly grew bored. The treadmill workouts were somewhat more entertaining, and
watching her slave's sleek body glisten as it ran in place always delighted.
Dawn's heart beat rapidly in anticipation as one Saturday night she was
prepared. She knew it would be her second trip to Klub Knoir. She lifted her
chin to stretch her neck as Suzanne fastened the simple collar. Her first hint
that something was up came when Suzanne ordered her to put on the sheer thigh
high stockings. Watching her reflection in the dressing room mirror, Dawn pulled
her shoulders back as the black collar was locked. It contrasted perfectly with
her skin. The light makeup and tangerine lip gloss added to her sexiness. She
watched as Suzanne pulled her hair back and fashion a single braid.
"Call and leave a message at work that you want your two week vacation to start
on Monday."
Dawn started to protest. Short notice for vacations was not approved of at the
agency, but her eyes watered as Suzanne pulled her hair back to emphasize the
point.
"Well, slave?"
"Yes...mistress."
She didn't cry as the pressure on her roots was eased.
"Put these on."
Dawn bent to see her feet. Suzanne threw down two shoes she had never seen
before. Their red patent leather shined. Each had thick ankle straps, but the
stiletto heels looked too sharp and impossibly long.
She was confused. Calling for a vacation was one thing-Dawn knew Suzanne had
other plans for her than just enjoying time off-but the sight of the strange
shoes almost made her balk. Another yank on her hair reminded her to obey.
Using a hand on the vanity counter to steady herself, Dawn slipped her feet into
the heels. She wobbled. Her bent and cramped feet immediately hurt.
Instinctively, she knew the pain was all part of the submissive she had become.
The shoes also further defined her long legs and tightened her ass. She put on
both shoes and stood facing the mirror.
"There you are. See? You're taller than your mistress now. Here's your trench
coat. Let's go."
Suzanne wore a long gauzy black gown with black platform calf boots. Underneath
she wore a leather bustier with buckles and rivets. Matching gloves covered her
hands. Brunette hair coiled as it flowed over her back. A faint cloud of sexy
perfume trailed her.
Naked under the raincoat with just her rings, stockings and the wobbly shoes,
Dawn followed Suzanne out the condo door.
How could she forget? The second room in the club looked familiar, but it was
empty and there were no strobes or spotlights like before. It looked like any
ordinary and empty room. She continued behind Suzanne to the third door marked
Torture Chamber. They stopped before it opened. Suzanne removed Dawn's coat and
hooked her wrists to her collar.
Dawn almost strutted as the "Oohs" and "Ahhs" greeted her. The murmurs she knew
were directed toward her and she felt all eyes flowing her every movement. She
was happy they approved. She thrust out her swaying breasts.
This room was about the same size as the other but was softly lit by burning
wax. Flickering flames revealed the many men and women gathered. Dawn also saw
that the elaborate throne this night was occupied. She faced the seated figure
wearing the cape and peculiar face mask. Alternating shadows crossed its
sculpted contours. She did as Suzanne had instructed and lowered her eyes but
could not help but think the mask looked like some huge and enraged owl.
She heard a voice say that the slave was physically beautiful. In her heart the
compliment made her smile. Dawn felt herself slowly turned around, bent forward,
ass spread, and then straightened to again be turned to face the stranger. The
head and mask that looked like an angry bird nodded in the direction of the
rack.
"Your aureolae are too small and blend too well with the rest of your skin, but
that is easily remedied. Your nipples, however, are pleasingly long."
Dawn lay on the wooden rack on her back, wrists and ankles secured. Her auburn
hair pooled under her head. The mysterious masked figure loomed to her side. She
looked up expectantly at the person.
"Remove her nipple rings."
Suzanne watched from the shadows as Dawn was stretched upon the rack. When the
master ordered the shiny rings removed, she did not know what to think. She
wasn't sure what the man had in mind, but did know he was also a chemical
engineer. That connection might come into play. Suzanne kept her eyes on the
scene and thoughtfully sipped from the glass of red wine.
"We will begin by adding more contrast around the slave's nipples."
All in the room hushed and gathered closer around the rack as they saw one of
the master's gloved hands select a small razor.
"These are lovely," he said as he fondled one full breast with its protruding
nipple. "But see if you do not like the difference."
Dawn strained her neck. She perspired. The stranger loomed closer and she saw
the blade as he gripped her left breast. She bit her lower lip as she felt the
shallow cut etch a small circle. By the time the second circle was scratched
onto her, her chest was heaving up and down. Sweat streamed down her chest,
mingling with rivulets of scarlet. Only her butt and upper shoulders touched the
surface of the rack. A whirlpool of eyes swam above and around her.
"Now that what had before no longer blends with the rest of the tan, we can
begin enlarging the circles."
Dawn felt a cool hand rested on her sunken tummy. She blinked her lashes more
and saw that the master was addressing the room-not her. In his gloved hand he
no longer held the razor. The fingers held a compress.
"This soaked cotton contains chelatod liquid caustic soda. Call it lye, or
whatever. For our purposes here it is highly diluted but retains many corrosive
properties. It's colorless and odorless and the slave might not even immediately
notice its effects, but believe me, she soon will."
The white of Dawn's eyes grew as she, too, listened. She sucked in a breath as
the wet cotton was taped onto one of her breasts. The man was right: all she
felt was coldness. She closed her eyes and felt a second icy patch taped on top
of her other breast.
"Let's let that sit awhile."
A tiny stab of fire burst. More stabs followed. Heat replaced cold. Flames grew
and blasted deep into her chest. The conflagration soon engulfed her. Dawn
screamed out as blazes heightened.
"You did well tonight," Suzanne said as the two of them huddled in the rear seat
of the cab on their way back to their condo. Her words were meant to sooth, but
Dawn wasn't so sure. Shivers under the trench coat continued despite tightly
wrapping arms around her ribs. Tears wet her face as she looked out the cab's
windows at the city streets zooming by. Fucking the torture room at Klub Knoir
was one thing, but screwing with her tits with that acid or whatever could have
gotten her killed. Her inflamed nipples still burned, despite them being washed
and oiled.
"But, I imagine you'll need a couple of days to rest. Don't forget, in two weeks
is the field trip... and you're to be the star attraction.
Now, drama queen slave of mine, give your mistress a kiss."
The couple in the back locked in an embrace as the cab accelerated up
California.
