SATURDAY AFTERNOON
I heard chains jangling across the floor before I saw
her. I had started work on her blinders when she crawled into the studio. I sat
with my leather working tools and the pieces we had bought earlier laid out on
the desk in front of me.
She stopped just inside the room and dropped down, face
to the floor. Her hair, still wet from her shower, trailed on the floor around
her head.
"How may I serve you, Master?" she asked. She
wore her standard uniform: collar and wrist and ankle cuffs with connecting chains.
As she knelt, head down and fanny in the air, I saw that little piece of black
leather still protruding from her asshole.
Come over here. Kneel up," I said, gesturing to a
point in the floor near the desk.
She knelt beside me, sitting on her heels with knees
spread wide, back straight and eyes cast slightly down. I casually fondled her
breasts with one handle. My fingers stroked her tits and gently tweaked a
nipple.
"The plug's still in your ass," I said.
"It's in my ass again, Master."
"Yes?"
"I took it out to shower, Master, but since you
hadn't removed it yourself, I washed it and put it back in."
"I see."
"It stays in just fine by itself, Master."
"I'll remember that, slut. Very good. You're getting
used to thinking like a slave."
"Thank you, Master." She smiled. I think she
even blushed a bit.
I picked up a piece of stiff cardboard that I had cut to
shape minutes before. I was about eight inches long and four inches high, with
a straight top edge and curved bottom. I turned to her and held the top corners
to her temples. "What do you see?" I asked.
"A lot of cardboard, Master."
"No sarcasm, slut. And . . .?"
"And . . . well, I see my thighs, a little carpet
between them. I see a bit of my pussy, my belly, my tits. That's about it,
Master."
I pulled the cardboard away from her face.
"Stand."
She struggled to her feet with a clinking of chains. I
held the cardboard to her face again.
"Now what do you see?"
"Pretty much the same as before, Master," she
responded. "Cardboard. My body, all the way down. Carpet, an arc about two
feet deep and four, maybe five feet wide. And part of the base of your chair.
That's it. I could see more if I leaned my head back, Master."
"Good. Good," I said, again dropping the
cardboard from her face. "That'll do very well." I picked up a tape
measure from the desk top. "One more thing to check."
I stood and wrapped the tape across her forehead and
around her head. "Twenty-one inches. The strap doesn't need to be quite as
long as I thought." I sat back down and turned to the work on the desk.
"You can go now. I'll call if I need you."
"Yes, Master." She dropped to her knees.
"Master?" she asked.
"Yes, slut."
"Master, I think I know what you're making . . .
,"she hesitated, dropped her head.
"Yes?"
"I think I know what you're making and I don't think
I like it."
"That's awfully bold, slut. Do you want tonight's
punishment extended to three hours?"
"Nooooo, Master. Please. I don't even know what
you're going to do to me."
"Slut?"
"Yes, Master. Of course. Make my punishment last for
as long as you wish, Master."
"Face down, slut."
She dropped to the carpet, face down, hands on the floor
at each side of her head.
"I think two and a half hours will be adequate, but
don't try my patience. Now, slut. What do you think I'm making?"
"Blinders, Master," she said to the carpet.
"Blinders?
"Yes, Master. Blinders, like for a race horse."
"You're right, slut. I'm making blinders for you.
Just like for a horse."
"Yes, Master. It frightens me. I'll be able see
enough to walk, won't I?"
"Yes, maybe even run, slut."
"But I won't be able to see what's around me. That
frightens me, Master."
"You'll have to trust me, slut."
"Yes, Master. I trust you, Master."
"Good. Now go. Relax. Take a nap. Read a book. Watch
TV. I'll call you when it's time to get ready to go to dinner."
"Thank you, Master." The little black leather
loop wagged between her ass cheeks like a boxer puppy's tail as she crawled
from the room.
I carefully cut the stiff leather scrap to match the
piece of cardboard I had used as a model. Then I cut the strap to length,
tapered and punched one end and attached the buckle to the other. Finally, I
connected the leather piece to the new strap with a row of grommets across the
top. My slave's blinders were ready.
That done, I took an old pair of wraparound sunglasses
from the desk drawer and carefully painted the inside of the lenses flat black.
A few minutes before six, I walked into the living room.
She was asleep, curled up on a pile of pillows in the floor, a paperback closed
beside her head. I cleared my throat.
"What . . . huh?" she slowly opened her eyes.
"Oh, Master. Yes. Is it dinner time already?" She stretched languidly
as she awoke, first with legs straight out, chained ankles together and toes
pointed, then hands and arms straight over her head."
"Yes, slut. Time to get ready. Are you forgetting
something?"
She looked at me, then looked around her, puzzled. Then
she said, "Oh.Master, I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me," as she
hurriedly rolled up onto her knees and bowed face down to the floor.
"Much better. You may stand."
"Thank you, Master." She struggled to her feet.
She stood before me, naked and beautiful. She placed her feet apart, chain taut
between her ankles. Muscular, tanned legs led upward to the bare triangle of
her pussy, lips pink and barely parted. A chromed chain dangled across her
slit, as she held her cuffed hands at her waist, slightly apart, fulfilling instructions
not to cover her pubis. Her hips, perhaps a bit more ample than ideal, gave way
to a slender waist and firm, round breasts. Straight red-blonde hair cascaded
around her shoulders, ending just above her erect pink nipples. She smiled,
looked straight at me with gray eyes, then quickly looked down.
"Let's get you out of your uniform," I said,
stepping up to her. "Give me your hands." Taking her outstretched
wrists, I quickly unbuckled her cuffs. I dropped the cuffs and their connecting
chain on the sofa.
"Turn. And lift your hair." She pivoted and
raised her hair away from her neck with both hands, arms bent back over her
head. I released her collar and dropped it beside the wrist cuffs.
"You can take care of your ankles," I said. I
continued as she crouched down to remove her ankle cuffs. "We're going to
Emilio's. You'll wear your corset and your new shoes." She tossed the
ankle cuffs onto the sofa and stood upright. "I'll let you decide the
rest."
"Thank you, Master. I think I know just the
thing."
"Your shoes are on the table by the door. Put them
on and bring me the corset." I sat down on the sofa.
She took the pumps from their box and sat on the edge of
the coffee table to put them on. Facing directly toward me, she lifted, spread
and crossed her left leg. She slipped on the shoe, buckled the ankle strap,
then repeated the process with the right shoe. Rising a bit unsteadily on the
heels, she stepped away across the room. She bent over at the waist to pick up
the corset, giving me a magnificent display of her plugged ass.
"Very nice, slut," I commented.
"Thank you, Master." Beginning to get the feel
of the heels, she walked over and handed me the black satin corset.
"Kneel here," I said, pointing to the floor at
my feet. "Face away from me."
"Yes, Master," she responded as she complied.
I wrapped the corset loosely around her torso, waiting
for her to adjust her breasts and pull the half cups up under them. The cups
stopped short, leaving her nipples and areolae exposed. It was a modern corset,
with hooks and elastic, not laces and stays. It would serve quite well, though,
to contain and restrain my slave. In back, there were a close row of hooks and
four matching rows of loops, allowing the corset to be adjusted. I pulled the
top hook across to the farthest loop and slipped it through. As I went down the
row, pulling and looping, her kneeling posture, already straight, became more
and more erect. The pattern of her breathing changed subtly, grew slightly more
shallow. Her shoulders and bottom writhed slowly, twisting her body into the
confining fabric.
"Done," I said, slipping the last hook into
place. "Up now. Let me see you."
"Yes, Master." She pushed herself carefully to
her feet, steadying herself against the sofa. She strode slowly away from me
across the room, her bare bottom swaying seductively, made even more prominent
by her restricted waist. In back, the corset ended just at the top of her hips.
A tiny piece of black leather peeked between her ass cheeks.
She turned and started back toward me.
"Stop there," I commanded after a couple steps.
She spread her feet slightly apart to help her balance. The front view was
magnificent. The corset's wired cups forced her ample tits up and together,
creating a valley of cleavage that looked wonderfully fuckable. The nipples
were fully erect above the cups. Her already slim waist was reduced to about
twenty-three inches. The exaggeration of her feminine shape further emphasized
her tits above and her bare, pussy below, glowing against the shiny black
satin. Four garters dangled from the lower edge of the corset.
"Excellent," I commented. "Follow me. I'm
going to clean up while you get dressed."
I led her into the bathroom. Her heels clicked harshly on
the hard tile floor. "You may undress me," I said, turning back to
her.
She slowly unbuttoned my shirt, then pushed it back off
my shoulders. She pressed her uplifted tits hard against me and leaned down to
trail her lips and tongue across my chest. She knelt down and pulled the shirt
sleeves off my arms, dropping it in the floor behind her. She untied my shoes,
then lifting each foot, pulled off my shoes and socks.
She washed my feet with her tongue, starting near each
ankle. She worked her way down in wide, wet licks and finally, carefully sucked
each toe. I braced myself against the sink to remain standing.
She leaned up and lightly kissed the fly of my jeans. Quickly,
she unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my fly and pulled my jeans and
shorts down to my ankles. Again she lifted each foot, pulling my pants free to
join the pile with my shirt and shoes.
Wrapping her arms around my waist, she turned her head to
the side and gently licked my balls. She took each in her mouth in turn,
lightly sucking and rolling. She ran her tongue straight up the length of my
cock and off the end. She paused for a moment, then plunged her open mouth
straight down onto my hard member. She pushed me into her throat past her
gagging point, then backed off leaving just the tip in her lips. Again she
plunged her mouth down. And again.
On the next up stroke, I grabbed her hair and pulled her
head back sharply. "That's enough for now."
"But Master, you don't like my mouth?"
"I love your mouth, slut. But I've got another idea.
Get up." She struggled to her feet with my help, almost falling once as
her heels slipped on the slick tile floor. "Turn around and lean over the
sink. Spread your legs."
"Yes, Master." She positioned herself as I had
directed.
I reached between her ass cheeks and hooked a finger
through the loop on her ass plug. Bracing the other hand against the rim of the
sink, I quickly pulled the plug out and dropped it in the sink.
"Ooowww. Master!"
I found her anus with the head of my cock, then drove it
in to replace the rubber plug. She grabbed the towel bars on each side of the
mirror, leaned far forward and pressed her face against the glass.
"No. Master. Pleeasse," she pleaded.
"What's that, slut?" I pulled almost fully out,
then thrust back into her ass. Her bare pussy thumped against the cold
porcelain sink rim.
"Oh! Master!"
"What, slut?" Thump.
"Oh! Master!"
"What?" Thump.
"Oh! Master! Yes!"
"What?" Thump.
"Yes, Master! Yes!" Thump.
"Yes, Master!" Thump. /
"Please, Master!" Thump.
"What, slut?" Thump.
"Please, Master!" Thump.
"Please fuck my ass!" Thump.
"Please, Master!" Thump.
"Please, Master!" Thump.
"Please, Master!" Thump.
"Please fuck my ass!" Thump.
"Fuck my ass, Master!" Thump. "Please fuck
my ass!" Thump.
I grabbed her tits in both hands, squeezed her nipples
between my fingertips and pulled her back hard against my chest. She arched her
spine and threw her head back over my shoulder. I came deep inside her bowels.
"Oh. Master. Oh!" She relaxed forward, drooped
her head above the faucet. I released her nipples and eased my rapidly
softening cock from her oozing asshole. She wiggled her hips from side to side,
feeling her ass finally free and empty.
"I think you enjoyed that almost as much as I
did," I said.
She twisted around to look me in the face. "Yes,
Master. I probably did." A lopsided grin flashed across her face before
she turned her head down and away. She remained leaning across the sink.
I stepped back against the wall and slapped her fanny sharply.
"Ow."
"Clean up in here," I ordered. "Then get
dressed." I turned and opened the taps for my shower. She pulled out a
length of toilet paper to wipe her dripping ass.
"And lay out my tan suit and a white shirt," I
continued as I stepped in to the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed.
I walked naked into the bedroom after my shower, brushing
my hair with a towel. She was fully clothed, but dropped to her knees, face to
the floor as I entered the room.
"Up," I said and sat on the edge of the bed.
She rose to her feet, steadying herself on the bed's
edge. She wore an sleeveless, iridescent blue dress of a vaguely oriental
design. The fabric shined and clung to her curves. The dress would have
probably been too tight without the corset. I guessed that she had bought it
especially to wear with the corset. It was tight and straight around her legs,
extending to mid-calf, but with slits halfway up her thighs on both sides. The
neckline was high with a straight, tight collar that buttoned at her throat.
She added black stockings to the pumps, and pulled her
hair back in a ponytail. That was it; she wore no jewelry. The effect was
stunning.
"Wow," was all I said.
"I take it you approve, Master?"
"Wholeheartedly," I agreed. "Now help me
get dressed."
"Master?"
"You heard me. Help me get dressed." I wanted
to push her totally into her role as slave. She was to serve me, not only
sexually, but at all times and in every way.
"Yes, Master. Of course." She knelt and held my
undershorts while I stepped into them, then pulled them up and adjusted them.
She helped me into my pants and buttoned my shirt. As I sat on the bed, she,
kneeling again, pulled on my socks and tied my shoes. I tied my own tie and
slipped into my suit jacket while she knelt beside me.
"One more thing before we go." I said and, with
a quiet clink of chain, pulled a small object from the drawer in my bedside
table. "Pull your dress up around your hips and lie back on the bed."
"Okay, Master." She looked at me, puzzled, and
obviously trying to figure out what I held in my hand. She struggled with the
dress, but it was tight enough that she had trouble pulling it up more that a
few inches at the hips. Finally, she threw herself back on the bed in
frustration and pulled up the front flap of the dress between its two slits.
"I'm sorry, Master. This is the best I can do."
The top of her pussy slit was barely below the folded edge of the dress.
"I think that'll do," I said. "Spread your
legs a little." She slid her knees about eight inches apart.
I dropped the set of clamps that I'd bought the day
before on the bed between her legs. I slipped a finger gently between her bare
cunt lips and slid it up across her clit. The finger came away wet. ¸
"A bit damp down there," I said.
"Slavery makes me wet," she replied, flatly.
I spread her lower lips apart with the fingers of one
hand, exposing her clit and the inner lips. I tweaked her clit lightly between
thumb and forefinger.
"Ooooo." She squirmed her hips.
I pulled up one of the soft inner lips and rolled it in
my fingers until it swelled slightly. Holding firmly, picked up one of the
clamps and released it on her captured cunt lip.
"Ow." She jerked just a little.
"Master!"
I had set the screw adjustment on the clamp to apply
minimum pressure, but now backed the screw out on its threads until I was sure
the clamp wouldn't slide off. I grasped the other inner lip and secured it like
the first. A short chromed steel chain dangled to the bed from the two little
plastic-coated alligator clips.
"Just something to remind you what you are," I
said. "You can get up now."
She rose and pulled her dress back down around her legs.
"Master, it hurts."
"Yes?"
"But just a little, Master. And the chain is
cold."
"Slave?"
"I'm sure I'll get used to it, Master." She
walked to the door and back. "The chain sways . . . and pulls just a bit
when I walk. You know, I like it almost as much as I don't like it." She
stopped and bowed her head. "Thank you, Master."
"You're welcome, slut. Shall we go?"
"Of course, Master. I'm ready."
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