Mr Red sat comfortably in a richly appointed room, waiting for his host to appear.  He hoped that is was not in his host's nature to leave him waiting for long.  He found that many powerful men seemed to enjoy doing just that.  An effort to impress a guest with their superiority.  Give them time to marvel at the opulence of their surroundings.  Prove that they were important enough to be waited for, that they didn't have to hurry for anyone. 

    In Mr Red's case, such a effort was wasted.  He was wealthy enough himself not to be impressed with expensive furniture or fine art on the walls.  He just wanted to get to business.  In fact, he had been much more impressed with the samples of his host's work he had seen on his way in. 

    The woman who had shown him to this room was the first he'd seen.  She wore a strict discipline hood which covered everything, including her obviously wide open mouth.  Even her eyes were covered with dark lenses.  Her wrists were free, but her hands were constrained in long gloves that severely limited her fingers' mobility.  She wore what seemed to be fairly standard, albeit five inch tall, high heels, but walked gingerly in them as though afraid to put her full weight on her heel.  But what Mr Red was most curious about, and most wanted to ask his host about, where the devises he had seen at her crotch and breasts. 
   
    And she hadn't been the only one.  As he had walked through the mansion, he had seen several other slave girls, some bound strictly in place, some with enough freedom of movement to be of some use when put to work, but none of them in a state that anyone would describe as either clothed or comfortable.

    Soon the double door to the room opened, and Mr Red was gratified to learn that his host did not intend on keeping him waiting.  He strode in, followed by the slave who had lead Mr Red here earlier.  The slave girl carried stemmed glasses sandwiched between the fingers of each hand.

"Ah, I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Yes, and thank you for not keeping me waiting long," replied Mr Red. 

"Well, I believe in getting right to the heart of the matter," replied the host. 

"I do as well, but first let me simply remark how fantastic I find what it is that you've done with this one," Mr Red said indicating the slave, "What is all of this?"

"Well," began the host, pulling the slave girl up beside him and taking the glasses, "first we have the hood.  Thick leather, very strict posture collar built right in."  Mr Red could see that the girl's chin was held high, and that she could barely turn her head in either direction.  "The leather blocks out much, but not all of the sound.  She needs to be able to hear instructions, of course.  Just deaf enough to be disorienting.  But the real fun is in the lenses.  They cut the available light by about half, reducing her range in clarity of vision.  But here's the really genius part.  The inside of her field of view is on the outside, and the outside on the inside."

"I don't follow."

The host held up both hands, upright and parallel to each other.  "Picture your right eye.  These lenses take what that eye would see on the outside, the right side, and shifts it to the left, and takes what the eye would see on the inside, the left side, and shifts it out.  She basically sees in the four vertical bars, all shifted around.  It took her some getting used to, but she's been in the hood every waking moment for, oh, a little over six months now."

    "Ah, and there's this."  He took out a monstrous keyring.  After flipping through it momentarily, he found what he was looking for, a rather small key.  He fitted it in to a hole in the flat surface covering the girl's mouth.  After a turn and a click, he began to pull out a very wide, very long dildo gag.  It was at least two inches wide, but what amazed Mr Red was that it just kept coming and coming, until he had pulled a full two feet of thick rubber cock free.  Behind, the girls mouth was still ratcheted open by the hood, appearing as a perfectly round two inch hole. 

    "You mean that's been..." began Mr Red. 

    "Yes, down her throat this whole time.  Usually it's only removed so that she can feed, or provide oral service.  And I assure you that what she eats is far less appetizing that any cock or cunt."  He slowly slid the dildo back in, than secured it with a click. 

    "The gloves are pretty basic.  Locked at the bicep, as you can see they fuse her thumb to her index finger and her other three fingers all together.  It reduces her manual dexterity considerably, but not enough to make her useless for chores.  What we have on her breasts is a bit more fun."

    "Yes, I had noticed that," said Mr Red.  Each sizable breast was in a sideways vice squeezed tight at the base until it was swollen and purple.  The girl was obviously lactating as well, as a thin stream of milk dribbled from each nipple.  What confused Mr Red as that the cross bars of the vices seemed to skewer right through the breasts.

    "Why isn't there any blood?"

    "Look closely," said the host, gesturing Mr Red over.  As he bent forward, he saw that steel tubes ran right though the flesh, allowing the skewers an open channel.

    "The first time I put this on her, I just pushed the skewers through and made her walk around that way for a day, but I likely the look so much I decided to make it permanent.  Of course, I couldn't have her constantly bleeding, so I had the surgical steel installed.  Even if I remove the vice, which I only do when she sleeps, her breast stay malformed.  The breast have part of there tight, swollen look from the lactation.  I keep her on hormones to keep her producing, but I only allow her to be pumped once every couple of days.  She used to find the constant leakage a source of humiliation.  But I haven't asked her lately." 

    "Now the crotch.  You notice of course that the dildo in her ass is connected to her thigh straps by a sort of mechanical harness.  Walk around the room and return to us, 237."

    The slave complied, and as she did a circuit of the room, the dildo pumped in and out of her ass, the mechanical mechanism transferring the motion of her stride into plunging, ass fucking strokes.  Mr Red had no idea how long it was, but it was easily wider that the one in her mouth.

    "Is it lubricated?" he asked.

    "Yes, it has an internal reservoir that slowly pumps out liquid as she walks.  I like to use pig semen.  She knows it, another thing she used to find humiliating.  I imagine that by now she's used to it, but I haven't asked.  You can see that her cunt lips are stretched and clipped to the same straps that hold the harness to her thighs."

    "Does she enjoy it?  The ass fucking?" asked Mr Red.

    "Well, early in her training I conditioned her to orgasm from anal sex.  But I also conditioned her to only come on command, which she rarely gets.  That, and it goes on almost all day.  So no.  No, I don't think she enjoys it.

    Now the shoes.  These I think I truly unique.  At a glance they look like normal five inch heels, but watch."  With that he reached down and unlocked one shoe from around her ankle, using a different small key on his giant ring.  As he pulled the shoe off, Mr Red notice that the slave kept the foot up on its toes just as if the shoe were still there. 

    "Notice the heel," he said, holding it up.  Mr Red did notice.  Where a normal shoe would have had a concave surface for the heel of the foot to rest in, this shoe actually had a short pyramid structure, ending in a dull point.  Mr Red gasped in appreciation. 

    "It won't brake the skin, of course, but she really can't put any amount of weight on it without quickly experiencing some pretty sever pain."  He slid the shoe back on. 

    "But this isn't what you came for," he said, straightening.  "237, go and fetch 1."

    237 strode out of the room on her torturous heels, dildo pumping in and out, pussy lips getting alternately pulled forward and back.  The host sat back and took a sip of his drink, then asked if Mr Red had done much fishing this year.  They talked briefly, waiting for 237 to return.  They didn't wait long. 

    237 came back in followed by an apparition.  The woman, if it could still be called that, who followed her made 237's harsh bondage look like a boarding school uniform.  She had undergone such stringent bondage and modification, much of it surgical, that she was barely recognizable as human. 

    "Good god," said Mr Red, "The pictures you send don't really do it justice.  How did you get her to this point?"

    "Well, I won't got in to full details, but I can tell you it's been fourteen years in the making."

   He had found her when she was sixteen.  He was sitting in a coffee shop, and her offer had been clear enough.  She needed a place to stay, no questions asked, and she was willing to do whatever she needed to earn a place to sleep.  A brunette with a pretty face, she had leaned low across his table, displaying very modest cleavage with her low cut top.  She claimed to be nineteen of course.  He knew it was a lie.  She'd jumped one year past 18, hoping to make it less obvious but still a believable number.  She was not so attractive that most men would call her beautiful, but she was attractive enough to get a teenage boy in the sack, especially if she came on strong.  And it was obvious that she had already learned to use sex as a tool to get what she wanted.  Small tits, but a big ass.  Dark brown hair and a heart shaped face.   

    He wasn't a teenage boy.  He was thirty two, and possessed of considerable means.  And in a way, this was too good of an opportunity to miss.  He had desires and he had dreams, but many of them were quite unlikely to be fulfilled under normal circumstances.  Luckily for him, unusual circumstances had just knocked on his door. 

    The first night he went easy on her.  He gave her a hot meal and a shower, and afterward he laid her back on his coach and fucked her.  He found that her ass really wasn't fat at all.  She just had wide hips but lacked the large breasts to give her a true hourglass figure.  He didn't do anything kinky that first night, but also didn't do a whole lot to increase the romance.  She moaned some, but it was obvious that her moans were mostly fake, and she didn't come.  He didn't take that as a blow to his ego at all.  He hadn't been trying to make her come, really, but to establish their arrangement.  It was clear to him that she was already on her way to being a bit of a pro.  This wasn't the first time she'd fucked a guy to get what she wanted. 

    During the day, he left her to her business.  She spent most of the day watching TV, sometimes reading the occasional magazine.  She seemed content to spend her life on someone else's couch, watching daytime TV.  He had other plans, though. 

    He worked from home the next few days.  He didn't want to leave her unattended for one thing, and he also wanted her to see him at work.  Researching stocks, on the phone with brokers giving orders.  She already knew he was rich, but he wanted her to perceive him as powerful, and also beyond her.  She couldn't understand many of the conversations she overheard.  She only knew that they involved more money than she had ever had any realistic hope of seeing in her life.  He didn't really have to work very many hours per day to maintain his wealth, but be faked working more than he actually needed to, to give her the impression of busyness.  It was easy to look busy while sitting behind a computer or texting on a cell phone. 

        Each night he became rougher with her, fucking her harder, tossing her into different positions, slapping her ass.  The rougher he got, the more she responded with honest lust.  On the second night he could tell he had surprised her.  On the third night he was absolutely certain he had made her come.  She was slick with sweat and her dilated eyes kept darting around.  This was exactly the response he had hoped for.  She might have thought she was a tough girl, and she might have thought she could use sex to get what she wanted, but she was more of a little slut than she realized.  She liked to be fucked hard.  She liked to be used as a sex object.   

    On the sixth night he decided to up the stakes.  He approached her, his body language intentionally aggressive.  She knew what he was after, and started to pull up her shirt.  Before she could get very far he grabbed her, spun her around, and flung her across the coffee table.  She gasped in surprise.  He quickly twisted her arm behind her, slightly harshly, eliciting a hiss of discomfort.  He cuffed her wrists almost in one motion.  "Ooooo, kinky!" she said as he pinned her down with one arm.  He then produced a knife and started to cut off her clothes.  She started to squirm and protest, but he simply pressed the knife firmly in between two ribs and whispered, "be still."  And she was.  She only had three changes of clothes, so he knew that getting one set cut to ribbons was stunning to her. 

    Once she was naked, he grabbed her by the hair and tossed her backwards onto the couch.  He pulled out his cock and shoved right into her, fucking away.  He slapped her tits periodically as he did it, a few times her face.  This was by far the hardest he'd been with her, and the first time he'd put her in any kind of bondage.  And her response was perfect.  Part of her seemed to rebel when he smacked her, but it drove her to grind harder against him each time.  In the end, he brought her to a screaming orgasm which left her sweaty and breathless.  When he pulled out, she collapsed bonelessly on the floor.  There she shuddered and groaned for some minutes, arms still cuffed behind her back.  "Oh god," she groaned, "I have never come like that."  He uncuffed her and gathered her up and carried her to the guest bedroom.  She snuggled against him and was almost asleep by the time they got there.  As he lay her down, he kissed her tenderly on the lips.  She smiled and so did he.  Tomorrow, he thought, would be the real test. 

 

The next day, he sat her down after lunch.

 

"I've enjoyed having you here, but this can't go on for ever," he said, "if you are going to stay here, there are going to have to be some ground rules." 

 

"Rules," she said, "I don't like rules."

 

"I know you don't," he replied.  "But you can't just stay here forever, watching daytime TV your whole life and letting me fuck you as rent payment."

 

He was intentionally blunt and it had its intended effect.  Her jaw dropped and her skin paled as she glared back in shock.  "Is that what you think is going on here?!"

 

"Then what is going on?" her replied calmly.  She cast about, and her jaw opened and closed soundlessly in rage. 

 

"Look, I'm thirty two and you're sixteen.  Yes, I know you're from Spokane and your parents are Steve and Judy.  Where did you think this was going?  I can't marry you.  You're a fugitive.  Sooner or later they are going to catch up to you.  They are going to take you back, and you are going to be in a lot of trouble.  Whatever it was that made you run in the first place, it's going to be five times as bad when you get back."

 

He stopped to watch her reaction.  Gone was the open mouthed indignant shock.  Her eyes had narrowed and her jaw had tightened.  She was looking down and to the left.  She was angry, frustrated, but had no answer to what he had said. 

 

"There is an alternative," he said after a moment's pause, "There is a way you could stay here, and not worry about any of that."

 

She sighed, "What's that?"  There was a certain hostile resignation to her voice. 

"You give me complete control.  You become mine.  Not as my wife, but just mine.  That is the only way I can protect you."

 

"What.....what do you mean complete control?"  She was suspicious, but compelled.  Everything was going according to plan. 

 

"I mean I would control every aspect of your life.  You would need nothing, and you would be safe from the world, but I would be in control."  As he said this, he pulled up a paper and laid it on the table. 

 

"What's that?" she asked. 

 

"It's a contract," he said, "It puts our agreement in writing."

 

She looked at it for a moment, pretending to skim.  He could tell that her decision making process at that point had nothing to do with what was on the paper.  It had to do with the sex they'd had the last few days, and his money, and the things he had just said, and whatever it was that she was afraid of back home.  It was less then a minute before she had grabbed the pen and started looking for the signature line. 

 

"No," he said.

 

"No?"

 

"No.  I want you to know what you are signing.  Hand it back."  She did. 

 

"You are a young, undisciplined girl.  You come from someplace bad enough that you ran away, but you don't just need shelter, you need discipline.  I can offer you both, but I want you to know what that will entail."

 

He began to read.

 

"I relinquish complete control to my master, named above" he read it aloud and looked at her as he finished.  She simply looked at him.

 

"My mind is my master's.  I will obey his instructions at all times, and accept the training he gives me.  Since my master wants my mind to be strong, I will continue to be educated."  Her mouth tightened a bit at that last part. 

 

"My body is my master's.  He will do with it as he pleases," her breath quickened a bit at that, "He will use it as he sees fit," she swallowed, "He will control my bodily functions," a bit of a pause, " most particularly my orgasms.  I will only orgasm when my master allows me," she smiled at that, just slightly.  "He will modify my body as he wishes."  She seemed to dismiss this part, perhaps thinking of tattoos and maybe a few piercings, things she had planned on getting once she turned eighteen anyways. 

 

"Finally, my signature below indicates my complete agreement, and I will further signify my agreement by taking the pill my master offers me, knowing that when I awake I will be his property."

 

She seemed to consider for just a moment, then she grabbed the pen, signed her name, and tossed down the pill.  It was only moments before her vision began to blur and she felt herself drifting.

0 yrs, 0 mo, 10 d

 

She awoke groggily, uncomfortable.  She felt like she had drank too much the night before and woke up too early the next day.  She couldn't see anything.  The room she was in was dark.  She started to move her hand down to her face, only to find that her wrists were bound up over her head.  Her ankles were bound as well, so that her legs were straight out and she was forced to lie on her back.  Something seemed to be stuck down her throat.  She tried to call out, but whatever was in her throat kept her from speaking.  She began to panic.  Where was she?  Her breath came quick.  She started to really strain against her bonds.  Just as she felt self control really start to slip, the lights came on. 

 

She blinked and squinted, momentarily blinded by the bright glare.  She was in an off white room, restrained to a cot.  In those first few blind moments, that was all she could determine.  Then a familiar voice spoke.

 

"Ah, you're awake!"  he said pleasantly.

 

She strained to look towards the direction of the voice, and saw him walking towards her. 

 

"I'm sorry about the restraints.  For your own good, I'm afraid," he said has he began undoing her bonds.  "Also the tube in your throat.  Standard procedure I'm afraid when someone's been anesthetized.  Hold still.  This is going to feel a little uncomfortable."  He sat her up and began to pull the tube from her throat, and it was indeed an unpleasant sensation.  A little like vomiting, but not as intense, and with the sense of pulling rather than pushing.  As the tubes came free, she breathed a deep, shuttering breath and her head began to slump forward.  He caught her under the chin with his hand and lifted her face. 

 

"Not yet," he said.  "As per our agreement, you are going to learn to follow some rules.  But not quite yet.  Right now I want to show you something.  Don't look around, don't look down.  Simply look in my eyes until I tell you."

 

This seemed reasonable enough.  So as he stood and began to lead her off, walking backwards as he did, she complied.  They only went a short distance, just over towards one of the room's walls, before he stepped aside, revealing a full length mirror.  It was only then that it really registered to her that she was completely naked.  Her eyes widened at the sight of herself. 

 

The first thing she noticed was her tits.  When she had come to stay here, her tits were a meager A.  A little less, really.  Now, they were a perky C, bruised and red from the recent surgery.  She was so shocked by the sudden and unasked for increase in size, it took her a moment to note a silver glint on each breast.  Her nipples had been pierced!  Each nipple sported a small silver ring.  As she looked further, she noticed a similar glint in her crotch.  Her clit was pierced!  It sported a similar ring.  Subconsciously, her hand started to move towards it. 

 

"Ah," he said, "I see you've noticed the piercings.  One in each nipple, and on your clit.  Also, open your mouth."  She was too stunned to do anything but comply.  "A stud through your tongue as well.  I've also had electrolysis done on all of the hair on your body except on the top of your head and your eyelashes."  She blinked at that, and leaded her head slightly forward as she looked more closely at her reflection.  She had been so dumbfounded by the piercings that she hadn't even noticed the lack of hair, most immediately noticeable at her crotch.  Before she had had a thick, dark bush of hair down there.  Now it was completely smooth.  Suddenly, it dawned on her completely what he had said.  Everything but the top of the head and the eyelashes.  That meant.....  Her eyes scanned back up to the reflection of her face.  No eyebrows.  She looked like a freak.  No eyebrows?!  Why would he do that?  It didn't even make sense.  She felt anger rising in her, but she was still so groggy and muddled from the anesthetic that she couldn't get her thoughts together to make a coherent protest. 

 

"Come," he said before she could recover, "let's get you settled in the spare room."  Spare room?  Get settled?  She'd been sleeping in that room for a week.  She was so confused and drug addled that all she could manage was an shaken, "Wha....ok" before following him out of the room. 

 

He lead her up a flight of stairs and she found herself following him through a door that had until then remained concealed in to what she had thought of as the basement.  He continued to lead her on through the house, finally arriving at a room that had already became familiar to her in the short time of her stay.  The spare bedroom, or at least one of them.  He stopped at the door as she reflexively stepped in a few paces. 

 

"I'm going to leave you here to adjust.  Do whatever you like in here today.  Tomorrow, we'll get you started on your new routine."

 

She felt there was something ominous to that as he shut the door and she heard the lock click.  He had never locked her in before.  She plopped onto the bed, and looked around the room aimlessly.  Her anger was still there, but dulling a bit.  After all, was it so bad?  She had always been ashamed of her small tits, jealous of girls who had bigger, which was pretty much every girl at her school.  She had to admit that they would look pretty nice once the redness and bruising went down.  She actually wouldn't half mind them a size bigger.  And the rings, she had thought about getting all kinds of piercings once she turned eighteen.  The only thing that she really didn't like was the eyebrows.  There would be no real way to hide those, not on a long term basis.  She could wear sunglasses a lot, but not forever.  Taken altogether, she wasn't sure how to feel. 

 

Right then, she just felt so tired, the anesthetic not totally out of her system yet.  And oddly, she felt just the slightest bit horny.  So she laid down with out bothering to look for something to wear, pulled up the covers, and went to sleep. 

 

When she woke up she felt much better, though she had no idea how long she had slept.  It was still light outside.  She sat there, looking at the sunlight through the window.  She could get out through that.  Even if it was locked, she could smash it and run.  But run where?  Back home?  To a neighbors house?  She was still naked.  She looked in the dresser draws and in the closet.  All empty.  She could scream for help, but what then?  A screaming naked girl running through the streets?  As she sat there she realized that the sense of arousal that she had noticed just before falling asleep was still there, but stronger.  She supposed that it wouldn't hurt to stay for a little longer and see where all of this was headed.  So the guy was a little kinky.  The arrangement was still essentially the same.  She got a place to stay and he got touching privileges.  If things got too weird she could always run then.  Besides, unlike other times when she had used her body to get what she wanted, this time she had actually enjoyed most of it. 

 

She quickly found that there wasn't a lot to do in that room.  There was no TV and nothing to read.  Oddly, there was a well stocked mini-fridge and a working microwave.  Finding that she was ravenous, she fixed herself a microwave dinner, ate it, then heated up another one.  Then she sat there alone with her thoughts.  Naturally, with nothing else to do, she started to explore the new changes to her body.  Her breasts were the largest and most obvious alteration.  She'd always wondered what fake breasts felt like.  As she squeezed her breasts, she found that they felt pretty close to how they had before, albeit much larger.  Her hands moved up to her nipple rings.  She flipped them back and forth a little bit.  She noticed that her nipples were hard.  She pinched and rubbed them a bit, to see how they reacted with the rings through them.  She closed her eyes and moaned a little bit at the sensations this sent shooting through her body. 

 

She sat up on the bed, the better to examine her clit ring.  It moved easily as she flipped it back and forth.  Her clit was swollen and hypersensitive as well.  She found her other hand drifting back up to her breast.  She began to rub her breasts and clit, moaning more and more regularly as she did so.  She plunged two fingers into her pussy and found it sopping wet.  Her rubbing became more and more furious as she felt the stirrings of a powerful orgasm building in her.  Soon she was grunting hoarsely as waves of pleasure washed over her, then she collapsed backwards onto the bed.  At last she released, waves of pleasure rippling across her body as she came. 

 

She laid there for some time before starting to move again.  There really wasn't anything to do in that tiny room.  She ate again.  In a surprisingly short amount of time, she felt her arousal building again.  She had never felt like this before.  Maybe it was the adventure, or the mystery of it all.  But before she knew it, she was masturbating again.  Eventually, she fell back asleep, but not until she had masturbated no less than four times.  She had never touched herself so much in one day, nor had so many orgasms.  After bringing herself to climax that fourth and final time, she finally drifted in to a deep slumber. 

0 yr 0 mo 11 d

She woke the next day to the door of the room being flung open and all of the lights turned on at once.  "Rise and shine!" he shouted.  She peered at him balefully through squinted eyes.  "Big day today!  Time for you to start learning your new routine."  He pulled up the curtains, and she could see that it was just barely starting to get light outside.  This was the earliest she'd been up since leaving home. 

 

"Stand up.  Come on now.  Drop that!  You haven't got anything I have seen."  She had started to keep the bed sheet around her as she stood.  Reluctantly, she let it drop.  As she thought of her nakedness before him, she realized that already she was starting to feel horny.  What was with her? 

 

"Now as we discussed, there are going to be some rules.  For now we will start with just two.  First, you will not speak unless spoken to.  Do you understand rule number one?"

 

"Yes," she said.

 

"Yes, sir" he corrected.

 

"Yes, sir" she said, a smile twitching the corner of her lip, and a mischievous look in her eye. 

 

"Good.  Second rule is that unless instructed otherwise, you are to keep your eyes downcast.  Do you understand rule number two?"

 

"Yes, sir" she said, lowering her gaze and still fighting to hold back a nervous smile.  She felt silly and a little excited all at the some time. 

 

"Good.  Now follow me.  I'll walk you through your day,"  He said, and turned and left the room

 

He lead her through the house and down into the basement.  She'd been down here before.  He had it set up as a den for entertaining, with a pool table and that sort of thing.  He led her straight over to a wall, and pressing a panel she'd never noticed before, revealed a hidden portal.  He began to lead her down the set of stairs beyond it.  She was both a little frightened but also very curious now.  And, she had to admit, even hornier than before.  The mix of emotions was making her jittery, and making her stomach flutter.  She also had to pee, her bladder full from the night's sleep. 

 

When they got to the bottom, she saw that they were in a hallway with several doors.  Unlike the basement above, which was done in wood paneling and carpeted floors, this hallway was very utilitarian, with a concrete floor and a single hanging light bulb.  He went to the first of the doors and opened it, gesturing her in.  She peered through the door with growing trepidation.  She saw a small room as plain as the hallway, with a single metal framed cot with a thin mattress, and no other furnishings.  He grabbed her arm and guided her in, following behind. 

 

"Until I decide otherwise," he said, "this is where you will sleep."  Her eyes widened.  She didn't like the look of this at all.  Even locked in the guest room last night, it had been a comfortable, normal bedroom.  He guided her right to the bed.

 

"Now, kneel down facing the bed," he said.

 

"But.." she started to say, trying to turn towards him

 

"You're speaking out of turn," he interrupted, "I'm going to let that slide this time, because you are still learning, but don't push me.  I won't warn you too many times before I start to punish you.  And you've forgotten to keep your gaze down.  Now, kneel down facing the bed."

 

She quickly lowered her eyes and started to kneel. 

 

"Now lean over across the bed, keep your head forward, and put your hands behind your back."

 

She found herself starting to comply.  Maybe they were about to have sex.  She wouldn't mind that.  If she got much more turned on, she knew that the smell of her sex would start to become noticeable. 

 

She waited for a moment.  She could hear slight noises behind her.  She felt as if her pussy were straining backwards, hoping to grab a cock.  Finally, something did touch her, but it wasn't a cock.  It felt more like a finger smearing something cold and wet on her asshole.  Did he think he was going to fuck her in the ass?  That hadn't been part of her plans, at any point.  She'd never had anything in her ass before, and as far as she was concerned, it had an Exit Only sign on it. 

"Hey..." she said and started to turn around.  A firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

 

"Remember, no speaking out of turn.  Now hold still."

 

Not sure what to do or where this was going, she complied.  She knelt there in dread anticipation.  She was not going to let him fuck her in the ass.  She was not. 

 

Then she felt something against her asshole again, but it didn't feel like a cock.  It was something small and round.  She felt it start to push in to her ass. 

 

"Hey!"  She started to turn again.  This time the hand on her shoulder shoved her back down hard.  The voice that spoke in her ear was much harsher. 

 

"Stay still and be quite!  I won't tell you again!"

 

This was getting out of hand.  This wasn't the kind of sexy little games she'd had in mind at all.  What the hell was he doing back there?  Suddenly she started to feel something trickle into her butt.  Her brow crossed with confusion and her eyes darted back and forth.  What was this?  As her bowels started to become more full of the liquid, she started to feel really uncomfortable.  She started to squirm, to really try to get away.  She felt his weight on top of her, holding her down.  She was trying to tell him to get the fuck off of her, but all that was coming out were grunts.  Her guts were really starting to feel full now.  She felt like she had to take the worst shit of her life.  Suddenly, the tube pulled from her ass, and his weight was gone.  She felt like she was going to explode!  There was no way she could hold this in for long. 

 

"The bathroom is the first door on your left," he said with surprising calm as he stepped away. 

 

She came up to her feet as fast as she could while still holding her sphincter shut.  She felt like any sudden movement and she would release whether she wanted to or not, but knew that if she took too long it would end the same way.  She broke into a half waddle, half trot and shot him an angry glare as she headed for the door.  Back in the hallway, she turned left and went through the first door, which was mercifully close.  She found herself in a small tiled room that, aside from a metal cabinet and a drain in the center of the floor, was completely empty. 

 

She looked around in panic.  Where the hell was the toilet!  She couldn't stand up straight, her bowels were cramping so bad.  She was trying desperately to hold back, but little squirts of shitty liquid were starting to escape.  She saw him leaning casually in the doorway.  "Where the fuck is the toilet!" she shrieked.  He nodded slightly and pointed at the drain in the center of the room. 

 

She growled in frustration.  Then, having no other real choice, she squatted right over the drain and let go. 

 

Immediately a foul stream of liquid jetted out of her ass.  Most of it landed in the drain, but some of it splattered around and ended up on her legs and feet.  She felt like she was vomiting out of her asshole.  Unable to control herself, her full bladder began to empty as well.  After what seemed like several minutes, the flow stopped and she felt a great feeling of relief sweep through her.  After a few deep breaths to recover, she turned on her host.

 

"What the fuck is wrong with you!  Are you some kind of sick freak?!  This isn't what I agreed to, you sick fu...."  Her words were cut off with a chocked scream.  Suddenly the worst pain was shooting through the back of her neck.  It felt like electricity was being shot directly in to her spine.  Her teeth gritted and her back arched with pain as she flopped down into her own shit.  She spasmed as the pain continued to shoot through her.  Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain was gone.  She lay there quivering and taking great sobbing breaths.  She weakly started to push herself up off the shit covered floor, but didn't even quite have the strength yet to make it to her knees. 

 

"I told you that I would not tolerate your rules infractions for much longer.  Your rules state that you are not to speak unless given permission, and that you are to keep your eyes downcast unless told otherwise.  I have many ways to enforce these rules."

 

She had managed to prop herself most of the way up by now.  She risked a glance upwards.  He was still leaning against the doorway in that casual pose. 

"There may be a few modifications I made aside from the breast implants and the piercings that I neglected to mention yesterday.  One them is a small devise implanted at the base of your skull that inflicts pain with the touch of a button."  As he said this he raised one finger over his wrist watch.  She shrank back in fear, and was just opening her mouth to beg when he took his finger away and continued speaking.

 

"I don't intend to use this devise often.  I have many more entertaining ways of punishing you.  And punish you I will, every time you break a rule.  If you misbehave, you will face consequences.  If you get through a day without breaking any rules, then I may reward you.  However, it's already too late for that today.  Why, you're still not keeping your eyes downcast!"

 

With that, his finger lifted towards his watch again.  Quickly, she averted her gaze to the ground, and gritted her teeth, waiting to see if another shock would come.  It didn't, and he continued speaking. 

 

"I require that you be cleaned inside and out on a daily basis.  Therefore, every morning will start with an enema.  Normally, this room with be automated.  The door will lock and unlock at certain times of day.  Today, knowing that we were likely to hit a few snags, I am controlling it manually.  Tomorrow however, this door will unlock at 7:10 in the morning.  Also, the showers normally would be automated to start at 7:15.  But today they won't start until I turn them on. 

 

Suddenly, she yelped in shock as frigid water sprayed all over her.  She hadn't noticed that there were nozzles built into the ceiling like the sprinkler systems used to suppress fires in buildings.  She sputtered and gasped and tried to wipe her eyes clear.  Over the roar of the sprinklers she heard him again, "You will find soap and shampoo in the metal cabinet over there.  And you'd best hurry."

 

She stood and shuffled to the cabinet as best she could.  When she opened it, she found that was mostly empty, but did contain a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo.  She washed quickly, wanting to be out of this cold as soon as possible.  He directed her as she went, ensuring that she was thorough.  The soup was rather foul smelling industrial stuff, like what you might find in a cheap public restroom.  The shampoo was no better.  Finally the water kicked off and left her standing there dripping wet and shivering. 

 

"You may put the soap and shampoo back.  Then go stand in the middle of the room."

 

She did as she was told, and again was shocked, this time by blasts of hot air blowing out of small jets in the walls.  In her bowel distressed haste earlier, she hadn't noticed them either.  Her face scrunched up as she was buffeted from all directions.  It was unpleasant, but effective, as soon enough she was dry over most of her body.  Finally, the vents shut off. 

 

"Now, one last thing.  Go back over to the cabinet, and take out a douche.  I think you know what to do with in."

 

She went back to the cabinet, and now that she was no longer being sprayed with ice water, she saw that all that was in there was soap, shampoo, and disposable douches.  She took one, opened it, and started to squat down.  

 

"No, not there," he interrupted her, 'Come to the center of the room, and face me."

 

Head down, she turned and started obey.  As she walked to the center of the room, a sob briefly shook her.  For a moment there, she had been so assaulted by various sensations that she hadn't had time to think.  But now, as she walked slowly, the shame and frustration of what she was doing hit her.  She felt utterly exposed as she began to squat in the center of the room.  Here she was, naked in front of this man, about to douche for no better reason than he had told her to.  It was either that or feel that pain again.  The fact that what he was forcing her to do was not sexual, but simply an act of hygiene, just heightened her sense of shame.  She inserted the douche, sprayed it, and then let it run out. 

 

"On a normal day, the shower will shut off at 7:30, the driers will shut off at 7:35, and the door will shut and lock at 7:38.  You must be completely cleaned by then.  You do not want me to have to come down here and let you out."  She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the clear menace in his voice. 

 

"Now, on to the next portion of your day."

 

He lead her across the hall and through another door.  This was another small room, just a little bigger than the others.  There was a small TV with a DVD player connected, a small mat on the floor, and a treadmill. 

 

"This is your gym," he said, "Right now you're young, but I've seen what you do when left to yourself.  If you keep sitting around watching TV and eating junk food all day, that hot little body of yours that you're so proud of won't last."

 

At that, the TV clicked on and she found her self watching a yoga video.  At first she just stood there, a little bewildered as the first exercise was demonstrated, but she heard, "Well?  Come on!" from behind her and started to imitate the people on the screen.  These were beginning excises, but still she felt that they were just slightly beyond her flexibility to do them as completely as the instructor on the disk.  It lasted for half an hour, and he explained that the DVD would be on a timer as well, running from 7:40 to 8:10.

 

"Now," he said, "get on the tread mill."  After she did he reached up and picked up two small clips on chains that had been sitting on the treadmill's consul.  The chains ran to a thick switch on the control panel.  He clipped one to each of her nipple rings, then picked up a set of handcuffs from a tray in the consul and fixed her hands behind her back.  He pushed a button and the treadmill woke to life, forcing her into a brisk walk. 

 

"The treadmill will be on a timer as well, running from 8:12 to, well, whenever I program it to stop.  However, it won't engage if those clamps aren't on your nipple rings or those handcuffs on your wrists in time, and it will send a signal to me.  Again, something you don't want to have happen.  I have the pace and degree of incline programed in, so you won't need your hands at all.  If you should fail to keep up and fall, those chains will engage the safety switch and stop the tread mill from running.  But not before they give your nipples a nasty yank." 

 

He stepped back to watch.  She continued on at that pace for a while, just enough to make her a little short of breath.  Then, the treadmill started to incline.  She had never been much for sports, and her calves started to burn.  Her breath was coming quicker now.  She had no idea how long she had been on that treadmill, but she wanted off.  The incline increased again, this time to a very steep angle. She had to take great lunging steps to keep up.  If her nipples hadn't been chained to the thing, she already would have given up.  But the last thing she wanted was the feel those rings yank at her nipples.  A light sheen of sweat started to coat her. 

 

The pace started to pick up, and she saw the slack leaving the chains.  She walked faster, then broke into a light jog.  At this angle, she didn't know how long she could keep it up.  Her new, sore breasts were jiggling up and down, adding to her discomfort.  After what seemed like just a few seconds, the pace picked up even more, and she felt near panic, but mercifully the angle of the treadmill began to decline almost immediately after the second speed increase.  Now she was jogging on a level surface, but she was so exhausted from the climb that her breath was now coming in ragged gasps.  She hated running, anyways.  Her body had been trim not from exercise, but from youthful metabolism.  But she had no choice.  The treadmill picked up even more, and now she was at a run, breath ragged.  Now her tits bounced painfully with each bounding step.  She knew, nipple clips or no nipple clips, that she couldn't do this for long.  She watched as more and more slack was lost from the chains, knowing that she couldn't go any faster.  Just then, the angle started to increase, and she found herself running up hill.  She choked in distress.  Her legs were burning.  She knew they were about to give out.  Just as she felt that she was about to lose her balance, the speed started to decrease, though the angle remained steep.

 

After another unbearably long moment, the treadmill declined, and she found herself at the same flat, brisk pace at which she had began.  But now, already out of breath, she found that she just couldn't get it back at this pace.  She had no idea how much longer it went on, only that it was sweaty, gasping torture, and that all she wanted was to sit down. 

 

Finally, the machine stopped.  She pranced backwards a little, wanting out of the restraints and off this treadmill.  He spoke up, "the cuffs and clips will release automatically."  She found herself standing there, muscles trembling and sucking breath.  Seconds drug to minutes, and still she stood.  Finally, as he had said, the clips released from her nipple rings and the cuffs clicked open from her wrists. 

 

"Put the cuffs back in their tray," he instructed, then led her out of the room. 

 

He took her to another door.  "This is your dressing room," he said as he opened it.  She found herself in another room, this one far less menacing than the others.  There was a very normal looking vanity with a nice assortment of cosmetics.  It was actually a rather nice vanity, in fact, with a small but fairly comfortable looking chair in front of it.  There was a wardrobe, and a small, spartan table.  Aside from the table, the rest of the furnishings wouldn't have looked out of place in any young woman's room.  

 

"Normally, at this time of day, you would be getting ready for work.  However, today is an orientation day.  In fact, you won't start work for another week while you get used to your routine around here.  However, I want you to start to get a sense of what it will be like to go to work."

 

"First, when you enter, you will see the clothes I have selected for you here," he indicated the table, "as you can see, today, there is nothing on it."

 

He moved to the vanity.  "Next, each day, you will find a template here of how you are required to do your hair and makeup.  A typical one might look like this."  He held up a picture of a mannequin-like woman's face with lipstick and eyeshadow applied, with her hair in an elaborate bun.  "However, we won't be worrying about this today, either."  He tossed it aside.  

 

"Today, we will be familiarizing you with the other hardware that you will be wearing while out of the house.  As mentioned in your contract, I now control your bodily functions.  That means I control when and what you eat and drink, when you sleep and awaken, when you piss and shit, and most importantly, when you come."

 

She felt a shrinking feeling inside.  Her sense of helplessness intensified.  But at the word "come" she was also reminded of the acute arousal that had been building in her all day. 
 

"Turn around, place your elbows on the table, and spread your legs," he said.  She hesitated, afraid of what he would do if she complied.  Then she saw his hand start to drift to his watch.  She couldn't bare that pain again.  So reluctantly she turned and did as she was told. 

 

"Keep your head down," he commanded.  She felt his finger on her asshole again, smearing something around in circular motions.  He took his finger away.  A moment passed, and then she felt something pressing against her anus.  It felt larger than the enema tube from earlier.  She reflexively squeezed shut her sphincter, but the pressure continued.  She gasped as a pain shot up her ass. 

 

"Relax.  You're only making it worse," he said.  She could feel whatever it was working it's way up her ass no matter what she did.  Her eyes were clenched tight and she gritted her teeth.  She tried to relax, but it didn't seem to be helping much.  It was pushing in further, and as it got in deeper, it got wider.  She could feel her ass stretching.  Suddenly, it seemed to slide in quite quickly and her ass slipped shut on a much thinner obstruction.  She could feel him take his hands away with the object still in place.  Her asshole tightened reflexively around it, and it didn't feel painful at all any more, just perhaps slightly irritating.  As she shifted a little bit she could still feel the thicker part of the invader bumping up against the insides of her colon.

 

She heard him rattling around with something behind her, then felt cold metal touch her crotch.  As he worked, the metal object seemed to wrap up around her crotch then her waist.  She felt him fumbling with something at her left hip, when heard a latch catch.  She then felt and heard something similar at her right. 

 

"There," he said, "you can stand up and turn around."  She did, then looked down at herself.  A metal strip ran between her legs, connecting to a metal band than encircled her waist.  "It's a chastity belt," he explained.  "It will keep you from pleasuring yourself when I'm not around.  You probably wouldn't have a chance anyways, since the boss at your job has been instructed not to give you any restroom breaks.  But just in case.  Also, it will prevent any other unauthorized use of the facilities.  That's a rather small butt plug up your ass, but combined with the chastity belt, it should do the job of preventing you from shitting.  It's only an inch wide at its widest.  I'm sure that we will eventually be able to work your ass up to wider insertions than that, but that's something for later.  And you probably won't want to take a piss in that thing.  You could, but that metal band is right over you pussy.  So the piss will just spray all over the place.  All over your ass, and thighs, and probably out of the toilet on to your legs and clothes.  You'll have a hard time cleaning up a mess like that in a hurry.  And it will probably mean smelling like piss for the rest of the day.  Not that you smell that great anyways." 

 

"Normally," he continued, "you would go to work at this point.  But as I mentioned earlier, this is an orientation day.  So, how about I show you one of those more entertaining punishments I mentioned earlier?"

He lead her out of the room and further down the hallway, where it ended at one final, heavy looking door.  When he opened it the sight of the room beyond made her gasp.

 

This was the largest room of all.  In fact, she had a hard time taking in the full size of it.  What few lights there were did little to illuminate its space.  And inside were tables and cabinets and constructs of wood and pipe which she didn't even have a word for.  None of it looked comfortable, but what was most disconcerting of all were the numerous racks lining the walls, holding all manner of whips, restrains, and implements of pain.  Her jaw dropped and she took an involuntary step back, only to find his firm presence behind her.  She wanted to scream.  She wanted to turn and beg him not to take her in to that room, to promise to be better from then on.  But she found herself frozen. 

Once again he grabbed her arm and lead her forward.  As he did so, he spoke.  "Today is the first day, so we will start with something extremely basic.  You know, you needn't necessarily fear this room.  Punishments will occur here, but also rewards.  It will be up to you to decide which will happen most frequently.  Either way, you will be spending a lot of time down here." 

 

By now they were approaching a plain and fairly innocent seeming, if sturdy, wooden table.  She didn't fail to notice the manacled restraints set at each corner.  

 

"Lay down," he commanded.  

 

Trembling, she crawled up on to the table and half sat, legs curled beneath her and propped on one arm.

 

"I said down!  On your back!" this time much harsher.  

 

Though there was nothing she'd rather do less, she found herself obeying.  As she lay down, he seized one of her wrists and set it in one of the restraints.  He then repeated the process with her other wrist, then each leg.  Next he went to the bottom of the table, where she could see him reach down and begin to turn a crank.  As he did so, she felt the restraints pulling slowly in all directions. Slowly they stretched further, at first uncomfortable, then painful.  She hissed, and was about to break down and tell him to stop, regardless of that damn watch, when the cranking ceased.   

 

He walked away, and came back a moment latter, holding a leather crop. 

 

"Now, here are the rules of this game.  For your infractions earlier, you are going to receive a certain number of lashes.  You can scream and grunt all you like, but if you make any intelligible words, I will add lashes to the count."

 

He then moved to the side of the table.  She watched him fearfully, trying to see what he was doing but trying not to catch his eye.  She remembered what he had said about keeping her eyes averted, and didn't want to see what would happen if she broke another rule.  She was laying on her back.  She knew that some perverts spanked people with those things for fun, but he couldn't get to her ass the way she was strapped down.  Her dread built higher, wondering about it. 

 

Suddenly he raised the crop and brought it whistling down.  It landed with a loud thwap on her stomach.  She yelped in pain and surprise, then bit her lip, suddenly determined not to give in.  He hit again and again, and she managed to hold back most of the noise.  But the hits kept coming, spreading red welts across her stomach.  After just a few, she wasn't sure how many, she was shouting out in time with the blows.  She was fighting back the urge to start cussing in pain, when he stopped. 

 

"Ten," he said.  She breathed with loud gasps, relieved that the ordeal was over, then widened her eyes has she saw him move just a little bit further down the table and raise the crop again.  She almost shouted no, but stopped herself in time.  Suddenly the crop came down, this time catching her inner thigh.  The pain was even worse.  She gave a choked gasp.  This time there was no holding back.  As the blows landed she screamed and cried and it was all she could do not to shout profanities.  After five hard strokes, he swiftly walked around the table and repeated the process on the inside of her other thigh.  After three cracks she couldn't take it any more.

 

"Ah!  Fuck!" she yelled, and immediately regretted it. 

 

"Oh," he said, "Oh, you are going to learn that no matter how bad a punishment is, it can always, always, get worse.  He walked away.  When he came back, the first thing she noticed was that he was no longer carrying the crop, but instead a long, thin wooden rod.  He raised the rod.  "Shall we continue?" he said, and quickly landed three more hard strokes on the inside of her right thigh. 

The pain was much worse, and she felt like her skin was splitting.  She screamed, but this time said no words.  He gave her no rest, marching quickly up to her shoulder level, landing a hard stroke across her still burning stomach as he did so.  Then he set to work on her right breast.  Two strokes across the top, two across the sensitive bottom, and the last two, hardest of all, right across the nipple.  He then walked around the head of the table to repeat the process on her other breast, but this time gave the nipple three hard strokes.  He finally seemed to be finished.  She was left gasping and sobbing with pain. 

 

"Now," he said, "It's about 8:45.  Normally, you wouldn't be home from work until about 11:00.  I'm just going to leave you down here until then, to think about what you did.  Oh, and since you have so much trouble not talking..."

 

He bent over and shoved something in to her mouth, then lifted her head and buckled it around the back. 

 

"This is a small ball gag.  Very basic.  You could probably even be understood around it if you really tried."

 

"I highly recommend that you don't," he added with a sinister glare.  "Enjoy!  Oh, and if you are wondering about breakfast, forget it.  Don't stick to the schedule, don't expect meals," and with that he walked out of the room, shutting off the lights on his way through the door. 

 

She lay there in the dark, stretched and gasping and sore.  She hadn't gotten a good look at her body, but what she had seen before the lights went out had been a mess of angry welts.  She fished her tongue around the ball gag experimentally and found that while it was rather uncomfortable, she could move it around some.  She decided to risk it.  She pushed it as far up as it could go and said, "I'm getting out of here, you sick fucker!" though it sounded more like, "Mm gunnen oua ere, oo shick, uckah."

 

Her muscles were really starting to ache, and the wood of the table chaffed.  She thought back to the series of events that had lead her there.  But as she sat in the darkness, she couldn't help but be aware of the steadily growing ache of lust that she felt in her pussy.  This, combined with her fear, made her feel adrift and confused. 

 

In the two hours she had to herself alone in the dark, she came no closer to sorting out her feelings.  Instead, dulled by pain and exhaustion, her mind wandered to strange ground.  Finally, after she had quite lost track of how long she had been strapped to the table, the lights came back on.  He stormed across the dungeon and grabbed her by the hair.  "You stupid cunt!" he growled, "You couldn't stay quite, even with the gag in.  Well, as I told you before, it can always get worse."

 

With that, he began to affix something to her mouth.  She couldn't see it, but it was hard and metal, and once in place it seemed to fit under her teeth and then around the back of her head.  He began to turn something to either side of her head, and as he did so, she could hear a clicking sound, and feel her jaws spread further apart.  Her eyes began to dart in panic and she made what muffled squealing sounds she could as her jaw stretched painfully wide, to the point of feeling that it was about to break.  He finally stopped, and she saw him remove a small key from either side.  She strongly suspected that without the keys, there was no way to release this devise.   

 

He then reached behind her head and removed the ball gag.  Her tongue could now whip about futilely, but she was even less capable of speech now than she had been before.  He began to affix another metal attachment, this one seeming to connect right in front of her open mouth.  Once it was in place, he reached inside her mouth with a pair of tongs and grasped her squirming tongue.  He pulled it out and held it there as he inserted a key in a different spot and started turning.  As he did so, a pair of clamps came down on her tongue right behind her new stud.  Once they were secure, he turned a different key and the clamps, anchored behind her tongue stud, began to pull her tongue further out of her mouth, stretching it painfully.  When it seemed that her tongue might actually tear, he stopped and removed the key.  She now found that her mouth was held open wider that she had ever thought possible, and her tongue was held in place in a painful stretch.  

 

"If you had stayed quite, I would have allowed you the relative luxury of that tiny ball gag for the rest of the day.  I would have even let you remove it to eat your lunch.  Instead, you will wear this for the rest of the day.  It is a discipline gag of my own design.  Quite unpleasant, I'm sure.  Now, it's time for you to get on with the rest of your day."

 

He began to unstrap her from the table.  As soon as her hands were free, they shot up reflexively to the gag.  Her guess had been right.  There seemed to be no dials or levers anywhere on the thing. 

 

He watched her feeble attempts with some amusement as he began to  unstrap her legs, but as her efforts became increasingly frantic, he warned her saying, "If you keep that up, I'm going to shock you just to keep you from injuring yourself."  Beaten, she let her hands drop. 

 

He pulled her off of the table and cuffed her hands in front of her.  He then produced a chain leash, and clipped it to her collar.  He began to lead her out of the dungeon, and she had no choice but to follow. 

 

Once they got upstairs, he led her to the kitchen.  "When you return home from work, it will be your job to prepare lunch.  I will leave detailed instructions here," he indicated a spot on the counter, "as to what you are to prepare for each of us.  Since that gag pretty much eliminates your ability to chew, you'll just be preparing lunch for me, today.   Do not make any mistakes."  With that he set a piece of paper on the counter, gave her one final look, then left the room. 

 

She went over and looked at the list and found fairly basic instructions for a sandwich with a bowl of fruit.  She set to work, determined after everything else that had happened that she wouldn't give him an excuse for any more punishments.  She quickly found that, even with her hands in front of her, working with her hands cuffed was a challenge.  Her hands kept getting in each others' way, and she had to continually re-think how she would normally do things.  She had never been very good in the kitchen, and now she found the process of trying to cut fruit with her hands unable to move apart to be a clumsy and frustrating experience. 

 

The extreme discomfort from the gag didn't help, either.  She quickly found that she was entirely incapable of not drooling.  The main difficulty this posed was that she felt fairly certain that if she drooled all over his food, she would be in trouble.  So instead she drooled all over the counter, all over the floor, and all over her own breasts as she bent and arched in unnatural ways to ensure that an unpredicted strand of slobber didn't splash down on his plate before she had a chance to see it coming. 

 

When she was done, she found it necessary to make two separate trips to bring it all to the table.  She could manage the fruit bowel and glass of water together, but her hands were cuffed so close together that she had to come back and get the plate with the sandwich separately.  When she had done so, he instructed her to sit in a chair next to the table.  He then pulled her wrists down between her knees, and attached her cuffs to a small clamp in the chair that she hadn't noticed at first.  There she sat, a puddle of drool slowing growing on the table, while he devoured the very tasty looking meal.  After he was done, he pored some water in her mouth, which she had difficulty swallowing, but greedily accepted. 

After lunch, he lead her in to a study lined with book shelves dominated by a fine oak desk.  In the corner was a small school desk, the kind with the desk attacked to the chair.  There was a small stack of books on it.  He made her sit down, and shackled her ankles to the chair legs.  She found the desk cramped and uncomfortable on her bare bottom. 

 

"You will spend two hours studying her each day.  As you can see there is a list that indicates what you should read from which book.  At the end, there will be a quiz, and each answer that you get wrong with be considered a rules infraction.  Your mouth is likely to dry out faster held open like that, so I'm leaving you a bottle of water.  Don't spill any of it."  He set the water on the desk next to the books and left the room. 

 

Now she felt panic rising in her.  She had never been much of a student, and she was terrible at quizzes.  She knew that there was no way that she would get all of the answers right.  It wouldn't matter how easy the quizzes were.  She looked at the books and at the list.  Every major subject was covered.  Math, history, science, and the rest.  She realized that she was wasting time just sitting there, and quickly yanked open the first book. 

 

When two hours were up, she hadn't even finished all of the reading.  He came in, set the books aside, and handed her a paper with twenty questions on it, telling her that she had fifteen minutes.  He stood and watched as she began, which only made her more nervous.  She had hoped that she might luck out with some multiple choice or true or false questions, but these all required written responses. 

 

Her head swam.  She only really knew the answers to a few of them, and some of the questions she couldn't even remember reading about.  She scribbled down answers, moving fast, fearful of the time limit.  In the end, she was only able to answer sixteen of them.  He took the paper and started to look it over.  

 

"Well, your handwriting sucks, and none of these are in complete sentences.  I didn't specify that, but from now on, anything not answered in complete sentences will be counted wrong.  Except math questions, of course.   Let's see, that's wrong.  That's wrong...."

 

It continued like that until he had scanned the entire page.  "Well, this is a pretty inauspicious start, I'm afraid.  You got seven out of twenty right. You'll definitely need to try harder."  She felt petrified.  After what he had done so far, she didn't want to even think about what she might get now if each question wrong was going to count as its own rules infraction.  The thought briefly crossed her mind that he might actually kill her.  And chained to this desk, there was nothing she could do about it. 

 

He opened one of the drawers of the nice desk on the other side of the room, and pulled out several clothes pins.  As he brought them over he said, "Thirteen clothes pins.  One for each wrong answer.  Now hold still."  She watched in some confusion as he brought one of them closer.  She didn't want to be pinched with clothes pins, but they didn't seem near as bad as the things she had imagined in her head, nor for that matter the gag, or being whipped. 

 

He attached the first one to her earlobe.  She sucked in air quickly at the pain, but in a moment the pain faded to a dull ache.  He repeated the process on her other ear.  Next another one on each ear, just above the lobe on the cartilage.  Then he started on her neck.  In the end, he had attached four down each side.  The final pin he carefully inserted past the gag and in to her mouth, and attached to the flap that connected her tongue to the bottom of her mouth.  This was by far the worst, getting a yelp from her, but that pain faded as well.  Now, while she was certainly uncomfortable, she felt a sense of relief that nothing worse had happened. 

 

Next he gave her a set of chores to complete, which just from glancing at the list, she could tell that they would take most if not all of the afternoon.  By now she was desperately hungry, but knew that she really had no choice.  She set to her tasks, starting with the bathroom. 

 

The first thing she discovered was that the clothes pins were more insidious that she had at first realized.  As she walked or made any movements, they bounced slightly, pulling and shooting new pain through her nerves.  Any movement of her head was especially painful.  She soon found the chores taking longer simply because she was moving carefully to avoid any unnecessary jarring of the pins.  The ordeal was made even more difficult by her still-bound hands and her distended, constantly drooling mouth. 

 

She was miserable.  She was scared, sore, and hungry.  She hated housework almost as much than studying.  She was a prisoner, and she knew it.  She had no idea what could happen next and felt helpless.  However, as she bent and scrubbed and cleaned, she couldn't deny the arousal that had been building steadily all day. 

 

The final task on her list was to prepare dinner.  Again, she had detailed written instructions, this time for fish, rice and a salad.  She was encouraged to note that she was preparing a portion for her self, though hers was to be cooked entirely without seasoning.  When it was done, she brought it to the table.  She was confused that instead of a drink for herself, she had been instructed to set a bowl of water at her place.  Once again her handcuffs were latched between her legs to her chair.  She felt a moment of panic at this, frustrated at being so hungry and have a plate of hot food sitting right in from of her.  She was momentarily uplifted, however, as he began to remove the horrible gag, as well as the clothes pin on her tongue.  Once it was off she worked her cramped jaw and licked her lips. 

 

"Alright," he said, "you may eat," and he began to dig in to his food.  She was briefly confused, as her hands were still chained down.  Then his intention became all to clear to her.   She bent her head of her plate and began to pick food up off of it with her mouth.  She was simply too hungry to be overly concerned with dignity.  She even lapped up water from her bowl like an animal.  She was so hungry and thirsty at first, and had been through so many humiliating experiences that day, that she didn't feel any particular shame until the very end of the meal.  She had finished all of her food and still had half a bowl of water.  He insisted that she drink the rest of it.  Then, slurping up the water while he watched, she blushed red as she finally felt the degradation she was being put through. 

 

Afterward she had to clean up of course, still hampered by the hand cuffs but grateful to no longer be wearing the punishment gag.  Compared to what she had been through the rest of the day, this was nothing.  She was beginning to feel that she needed to pee, but had been told that she would be receiving her last restroom break of the day soon. 

 

After she was done cleaning up, and had squatted over the drain in the basement for another humiliating pee, She found out how she was to spend the rest of this evening, and most others for that matter, for some time to come.   

He lead her into the den, where he settled comfortably into a nice chair.  He ordered her to kneel in front of him with her eyes down and her hands in her thighs.  Then he ordered her closer.  She scooted forward until her knees touched the chair between his feet.  He ordered her to lean in, which she did. 

 

"No, more," he commanded.  She leaned in closer, her head between his knees.  "Closer," he said.  She leaned in a bit further.  "Closer."  Now her face was just inches from his crotch. 

 

And there she stayed, staring in to his crotch, so close that she could pick up a slight musky smell, for the rest of the night.  She had expected to be ordered to suck his cock.  But that order didn't come.  She just sat there while he watched TV.  Occasionally, he would order her to go get him something to drink, but that was it. 

 

As she sat there, staring at his zipper, her mind had time to wander.  She reviewed the days various humiliations, feeling shame and anger and fear.  But her thoughts kept getting side tracked by the lust that had been rising in her all day.  By now, it was near overwhelming, making it hard for her to think straight.  Her pussy was moist and throbbing.  His cock lay just in front of her, covered only by the thin barrier of his pants.  Kneeling there, she couldn't help but think of his cock.  Think of it thrusting inside her, spreading her apart.  Of all of the day's events, being forced to just sit there, expecting to be used sexually, but not, was the strangest to her of all. 

 

Eventually, he ordered her to stand, telling her it was bed time.  He stayed in his chair for a moment, looking up at her earnestly. 

 

"Answer me truthfully," he said, "do you want to cum?"

 

Her arousal was obvious.  Her nipples were erect, and her pussy glistened.  She knew that he must even be able to smell her arousal from so close.  "Yes," she said.

 

"Well, not tonight," he replied, "Orgasms are gifts.  Rewards for a good day's work.  You had to be disciplined today.  Perhaps tomorrow you will do a better job, and earn your orgasm.  Now open your mouth."  When she did, he put a small pill on her tongue.  "Now swallow."  She was frightened, not knowing what he had given her, but did as she was told. 

 

He attached the leash to her collar once again, and led her back down through the basement to the tiny room he had shown her earlier.  He made her lay down on her hard little cot, refastened her handcuffs to the head board, turned off the light bulb dangling from the ceiling, and left.  She expected not to be able to sleep, with so many thoughts racing through her head, and such heat built up in her cunt.  With her hands cuffed over her head, she could do nothing to relieve that heat.  However, she was out within minute of him leaving the room. 

0 yr 0 mo 15 d

She knelt on the floor, face just an inch from his crotch.  It had been 5 days since she had awoke pierced and with tits a size larger, and her life was starting to settle in to a routine, just as he had said it would.  Every day had followed much the same pattern as the first, and every night had ended like this; hours spent kneeling, staring at his crotch, and longing for the release of orgasm. 

The day after her orientation, she had awoken suddenly in her cell.  She had quickly decided that she wasn't about to give in to all this, and would find sneaky ways to stay defiant.  She wanted to come, badly, and she didn't want to be punished, but she didn't want to let him have total control.  She was initially compliant, suffering through her enema and morning cleaning ritual.  He left her alone in the exercise room this time, once she was hooked up to the tread mill.  After a few moments, she made up her mind to risk the tug of the nipple rings and simply stop running.  After all, he had said that a safety switch would engage, with just a good yank on her tits.  At the moment, that seemed a better alternative to running the whole torturous course.  How would he know, anyways, whether she'd done the whole thing? 

This turned out to be a big mistake.  First, when the play ran out on her nipple chains, she got much more than a quick tug on the nipples.  It felt like the rings pierced through them were nearly ripped out.  The tread mill did stop, but she collapsed whimpering on the floor.  About the time she had collected herself enough to look down and see that her nipples seemed more or less unharmed, the door slammed open and he stormed in.  He hauled her up to her feet and connected her back to the tread mill.  Only this time, he added a pair of small weights to each nipple ring.  They couldn't have been more than a couple of ounces each, but once she started moving they jumped up and down, giving tiny yanks on her already sore nipples the entire time.  And of course, the whole program started over from the beginning. 

After that she suffered the butt plug and chastity belt combination again.  Then, as the day before, she was strapped to a table.  This time, she was twisted.  Her arms were locked down the same way, but her right ankle was pulled over to the left shackle, and her left ankle secured in the right.  This time, she took ten strokes across her ass with the cane, five each along the outside of her right thigh and the inside of her left calf, five on the outside of her right breast, and five on the inside of her left.  She screamed and moaned but made no words until the first stroke on the inside of her left breast.  The got her cursing, and earned her one more stroke one each surface with a hard wooden paddle.  This was an entirely different pain.  Instead of the splitting pain of the whip and the cane, this was a stinging, pounding pain.  Her body rocked with each strike.  And when the paddle came down on each of her breasts, she felt the surface bruise instantly and the insides shake. 

She still wouldn't admit it to herself, but that beating drove a huge amount of her defiance out of her.  She broke no rules intentionally for the rest of the day.  Indeed, she continued to tell herself that she was going to find small ways to break the rules without getting punished, but in fact every infraction she had committed over the last few days had been unintentional.  However, unintentional or not, she quickly learned that any mistake or deviation from instructions resulted in punishment. 

Her most constant source of punishment was her daily quizzes.  Each day she got answers wrong, and each day she suffered through a clothes pin for each incorrect response.  One the second day the she had done better than the first, with only eight wrong.  This time, he applied the pins to her breasts, already sore from both day's beatings.  This was far worse than her face and neck, as the pins bounced when ever she moved.  On the third day she got 15 wrong, even worse than the first day.  This time the pins were applied to her clit and cunt lips, seven down each side.  The pain was the worst yet, and as the day went on, the weight of the clothes pins became a problem as well, dragging her pussy lips down.  The next day, she did her best yet, with only 4 mistakes.  This time, he put the pins on the insides of her arms.  Initially, this was no where near as painful as it had been on her tits or cunt, but she soon learned that there was an even more subtle hardship involved.  She couldn't lower her arms normally, without twisting the clothes pins painfully or, even worse, risking popping one off.  She did not want to find out what the punishment of losing one of those pins would be.  By the time he removed them hours latter, her arms were stiff, extremely sore, and utterly exhausted. 

Each day the bondage she had to endure while going about her chores increased as well.  She quickly learned that he had many types of handcuffs.  On her second day the standard handcuffs were replaced with hinged ones.  Then on the third day, solid cuffs with no flexibility.  After that, thumb cuffs, which proved a unique challenge.  She had never thought about how many things she needed her thumbs for.  And that was the day she had had clothes pins lining her inner arm.  Today, she was made to wear a special set of cuffs which kept her hands constantly a foot apart.  This had made doing dished nearly impossible. 

In spite of that, though, today had been her day.  She had finally gotten all the answers on her afternoon quiz correct.  She hadn't made any mistakes on meal preparation, and she had gotten all of the dishes spotless without breaking any.  She had not failed in any way the entire day.  And now she sat, horny and frustrated, staring at his crotch just inches from her face. 

She knew it was getting close to bed time, so she was startled when she heard him speak.  "Do you want to come?"

She nodded and knew it to be the truth.  She desperately wanted an orgasm. 

"Unzip my pants," her hands were still in those odd cuffs, so she had some trouble.  She could only get one hand to his crotch at a time, so the zipper kept catching.  Her breath was getting short with anticipation.  Finally he was going to fuck her!  She felt as though her pussy were dripping with excitement. 

Finally she grabbed his pants with one hand, then gripped the zipper in her teeth and pulled down.  She pulled out his semi-erect penis. 

"Now suck."

She almost forgot herself and looked up at him in surprise.  But she caught herself.  She didn't particularly like giving head.  She'd done in before.  It was a pretty good way to get guys to do what she wanted.  But she didn't like the taste, and hated the feeling of come being shot in her mouth.  She was so horny though that she went at it with abandon.  If this was what he wanted before he fucked her, she was ready to do it. 

She held his cock tight with one hand while her head bobbed up and down, faster and faster.  She could feel him getting harder and her own excitement increase.  Finally, he gave out a great sigh and a thick wad of semen shot into her mouth.  She tried to jerk her head back in surprise.  She had expected to suck him for a little while and then have sex.  But he grabbed her by the back of the head and forced her back down. 

"Swallow," he said.

She really didn't want to, but saw little choice.  Almost retching, she gulped down his come. 

"Now stand up," he said.  She did. 

"Spread your legs."  She stood with her feet just past shoulder width. 

He reached a hand to her crotch and found her clit.  He began to rub.  This hadn't been what she'd had in mind at all, but none-the-less, she felt electricity shoot from her pussy to her brain.  She had wanted to be fucked, but she had been so horny for so long that any touch at all was almost enough to make her come.  She quickly found herself thrusting her hips against his finger, intensifying the sensation.  Her breath came short and she started to moan.  Her orgasm built quickly, and hit her with surprising strength.  Her knees went weak and she slumped into his hand as she came. 

"Good girl."