The Consequences                     by: Anyport

 

I blame my father for all my problems. He gave me some fatherly advice when I was young, and I've always heeded it, the advice? 'No matter how much you're in debt, always pay your gambling debts immediately.' Innocent enough advice, you may think, and under normal circumstances, very sound. Unfortunately, it has become so ingrained in me, that I would never, under any circumstance, avoid payment of a gambling debt. As you’ll learn, this became my eventual downfall.

It started innocently enough, My live in girlfriend of 3 months, had a terrible habit of biting her nails, and even though she knew my love for long fingernails, she continued the habit. One night, as we sat watching TV I caught her having a nibble. "I thought you were growing your nails?" I commented.

"I'm trying, but I keep forgetting." She shrugged.

"Maybe you need some incentive." I suggested. We discussed various inducements, but none of them appealed to her. Then in desperation I suggested a bet, which led us to discuss the stakes.

Money was no good; we pooled all our resources. Sex was out, because there was no winner either way. We had dabbled in bondage, and both enjoyed it, but we both preferred the dominant role, so, confident that she couldn't win, I made the following suggestion. "How about this, if you can go 2 weeks without biting your nails, I'll be your slave for a month. If you can't, then you’re mine." Rachel looked sceptical, she knew the chances of her winning were slim, so she didn't want to make any rash promises.

"Okay, but the slave has to be allowed to refuse anything he or she doesn't like."

"No way, if we say that, then the master doesn't have control, there's no incentive unless there's a risk. It has to be total, agreed." She mulled the idea over, I knew I had her cornered, on the one hand, she professed her desire to grow her nails, on the other, she knew she couldn't stop biting them. I thought I couldn't lose. I either got a girlfriend with sexy nails, or I had her as my slave for a month. I sat there smugly, arms folded, a grin of self- congratulation on my face as I awaited her reply.

"Okay, you have a bet. Starting from midnight tonight."

Over the next few days, I checked her nails regularly for any telltale signs of biting, unfortunately there were none. After a week, I began to worry, particularly when she bought some nail polish and painted them for the first time since I'd met her. She was quite proud of her efforts, and I knew then that I was going to lose.

At one minute past midnight on the 15th day, Rachel woke me in bed. "Go and get me a glass of water, and take off that ridiculous tee shirt, from now on you'll wear what I pick in bed." I began to protest when she pointed at the clock, then held her hands out for my inspection. 'Thanks Dad,' I thought to myself, as I climbed out of bed.

I was allowed to sleep on my return, after I'd been instructed as to my morning duties, nothing too elaborate, breakfast in bed, iron her clothes for the day, and run her bath. I usually made her breakfast anyway, and often ironed a blouse for her when I did my shirt. So I wasn't too bothered.

The next couple of days were fairly tame, I was wakened once in the middle of the night because Rachel couldn't sleep, and she decided she wanted sex. While she's only small, about 5'2", she's all woman, so making love to her was no ordeal at any time of the day or night. That night after dinner, when we were both relaxing - I'd cooked and washed the dishes naturally - Rachel sent me to get a variety of different coloured nail polishes from the all night chemist. On my return, she selected one of them, and told me to do her, now quite long, nails.

I varnished her finger and toenails with four coats each, when they were dry, she decided we would have an early night and went to bed. I was locking up when she called me from the other room; I trooped in mumbling under my breath. "Before you come to bed, I want you to paint your toe nails with the same polish, four coats of course, and don't you dare smudge them. Then come to bed."

I obeyed her command, and found out it was much more difficult to do your own toenails. I had to remove polish from my toes several times before I'd completed the task. Then I went into the bedroom and stripped off, presenting my feet for inspection. I was about to climb into bed, naked, as she'd decreed since the first night, when she stopped me. "You can wear that tonight." She said, pointing to a black see through negligee. It was one of her old ones, so she wasn't too worried about my damaging it. I pulled it over my head resignedly; it was far too short and very tight, particularly around the chest and shoulders.

After looking me over, Rachel allowed me to climb into bed, but she wasn't finished yet. She reached into the bedside cabinet and pulled out some old pairs of tights. "You kept me awake half the night last night, with your tossing and turning, so I've decided to do something about it." So saying, she told me to lie on my back then tied my wrists together and secured them to the bed head. She repeated the bondage on my feet, pulling them down so that I was stretched out.

"There, that should keep you still." She commented, and slid in beside me, as she pulled over the sheet, she noticed my erection. As I mentioned earlier, we played bondage games occasionally, and I always got turned on. "My, my, we are feeling playful aren't we." She took my cock in her mouth, and started sucking. Before long, I was close to coming, when she suddenly pulled away. "I've changed my mind." She turned off the light and prepared for sleep. "By the way, if I suspect you've done anything to, shall we say, ease your frustration, I promise you you'll regret it. Do you understand?" I moaned a yes. "And before I forget, the polish stays on until tomorrow night, then you may do my nails again, in a different colour, and you can change yours at the same time."

"Come on Rachel, I can't go to work with polish on my toe nails, what if someone sees them?"

"Are you in the habit of taking your shoes and socks off at work?" She didn't wait for an answer. "By the way, from now on you'll call me Mistress Rachel, is that clear?"

"Yes. Sorry, yes Mistress Rachel." I was starting to become a little concerned at the turn in events. Rachel was starting to take things more seriously, and I didn't like it one bit.

The next night I was trussed up in the same manner, but in addition, Rachel decided I snored, so my mouth was stuffed with the panties she'd worn that day, and they were held in place by her tights. I think the next morning heralded the beginning of my real servitude. After releasing my hands - so I was able to free my own feet - I was sent to make breakfast. I started to remove the gag, but she said to leave it. "You always make too much noise in the morning. Incidentally, when I do permit you to remove it, you can wash the tights, but not the panties. Those you’ll wear today, then tomorrow you can wash them, and wear the ones I use today." I wanted to protest, but the gag didn't make it easy, then I realised, I'd be wasting my time, so I was forced to accept my fate.

I walked into the kitchen, my poor teased prick standing out like a flagpole in my negligee. Rachel had made me eat her pussy before she trussed me up the night before. Then, after tying me up, she'd taken me to the edge with her tongue again. I desperately wanted to come, but was understandably concerned about the consequences if I wanked myself. Rachel was obviously relishing her newfound power, and there was no telling what lengths she may go to if I disobeyed her.

 

When I returned with her breakfast, she made me stand holding the tray, while she once again teased my poor tortured prick to shooting point. Again she permitted me no release, but promised that if I behaved myself, she would let me come that night. I was ridiculously excited at the prospects, and almost didn't mind wearing the panties. In fact, once I got used to them, I had to admit - to myself only - they were actually more comfortable than my regular underwear.

Later that morning I was sitting in my office when my secretary came in.

"Your wife dropped this envelope in at reception, she told me to wait and see if there's any reply." Preoccupied with an urgent job, I took the large envelope from my secretary, and tipped the contents out on the desk. I turned a bright crimson as a pair of black stockings and a black suspender belt fell from the opening. I quickly stuffed them back, but a glance at my secretary told me she'd seen exactly what was in there. I picked up the enclosed note, it read, 'Go straight to the men's room and put these on. Leave them on until you get home. Signed Mistress Rachel.'

"Thank you Kerry, there's no reply, it's a little joke of my wife’s." 'That bitch,' I thought to myself. No wonder she'd insisted I play my weekly game of squash after work, she must have planned this all along. I made the phone call I'd been about to make before Kerry entered, then went straight to the men's room and pulled the stockings on my legs. I had a little difficulty with the garter belt, as I was unfamiliar with the way it was worn. Rachel wore one sometimes, but I always left it on because it looked so sexy on her. On me, it looked stupid.

I played squash that night, fortunately I always kept a tracksuit in my locker, so I wore the pants to hide my secret. My opponent wasn't too impressed, as I couldn't give him the usual close games, because of my restrictions. He kept asking me to take the pants off, but I said I'd forgotten my shorts, and anyway, I needed to sweat a little. He accepted my excuse, but not my bad game. We usually had a drink afterwards, but he said that unlike me, he hardly raised a sweat, so he wasn't thirsty.

"Hello dear, you're early, how was the squash?" Rachel greeted me, her face showing her obvious amusement.

"Lousy, Rod thrashed me every game thanks to these damned stockings."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll soon get used to them."

"You're kidding, you don't expect me to wear them again do you." I stormed.

Rachel's expression changed from one of amusement to one of anger. "I expect you to do whatever I say, or are you welshing on the bet." 'Damn you Dad' I thought.

"No Mistress Rachel, I'm not welshing." I replied, accepting my fate.

"Good, by the way, while we're on the subject of the stockings, do you remember my instructions to you?"

"Yes Mistress, you said to go to the men's room immediately and put them on."

"And did you?" She asked, her fingers tapping on the arm of the chair.

"Yes, of course I did." As soon as I said it, I remembered the phone call I'd made first, I was about to correct my statement, but Rachel never gave me the chance.

"LIAR, you waited at least five minutes before you went."

"How did..." Then I remembered, Kerry had been on the phone when I left my office. I thought she gave me a strange look as I passed her desk.

"Well you have to be punished of course. Let's see, for not obeying instantly, well naturally you won't be permitted to come tonight. But the serious one is lying; I'll have to think about a suitable punishment for that. While I do, you can go and have a shower, then come down and make dinner. You may take the stockings and panties off while you shower, but be sure you put them back on when you're finished. Oh, and don't wear anything else, I want to see how you look. And shave those hairy legs of yours, they must look terrible through the stockings. Well, what are you waiting for, I'm hungry."

I wanted to argue with Rachel, I was feeling pretty frustrated, both mentally and - with the latest news - sexually. But I went meekly to the shower instead, after all, what could I say. Much as I was tempted, I couldn't welsh on the bet, and apart from that, I had no bargaining position.

I was just finishing shaving my legs, when Rachel came into the bathroom. She stood watching me for a while, then, "You may as well do the rest while you're there, I've always hated getting those little hairs in my teeth, and a hairy chest will look silly with these." She picked up the stockings and panties. "And hurry it up, I'm starving." She said over her shoulder as she walked out, giving me no opportunity to protest.

I dutifully obeyed her, shaving every hair from my body; fortunately, I don't have a hairy back, so I didn't have to worry about that. I even did under my arms, I knew she would check, so I thought I'd be one step ahead of her. Sure enough, when I presented myself for inspection, it was one of the first places she checked. "I don't remember telling you to shave there, I take it you like the idea of being hairless, since you went to such extremes. That's good, from now on you can keep it that way, is that clear?"

"Yes Mistress Rachel." I replied sheepishly, then I headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

As I worked, I wondered how much more humiliation Rachel could heap on my head. We still had three weeks and three days to go to the end of the bet, and the way she was progressing, there was no knowing where it would end. My thoughts were interrupted by a call from Rachel; I went immediately to see what she wanted.

"I bought this for you, to save your nice clothes." She held up a frilly white apron, which she then proceeded to place over my head, and tie behind my back. "There, now you can finish dinner." Head hung, I went back to my task, I didn't hear her move to the kitchen door, and was startled when she said, "Phil." I turned from the food, and the bright flash from the Polaroid camera momentarily blinded me. The camera whirred, then another flash. "Excellent, I've decided to make up an album of these, it will give us something to look at on those long winter nights when we're old and grey." She left before I could speak. At the time, it never occurred to me they might be used against me, but I wish it had.

We ate dinner together, as was our custom. After I washed the dishes I had to do my duties with the nail polish. Rachel selected a shocking pink colour for that night, and she watched as I removed my stockings and applied it. Then replaced them when it was dry. "You don't have to wear the apron when you're not cooking, take it off. And I think you should wear a bra to go with your other clothes. Go and get the black lace one, from the laundry hamper."

I returned with the bra, and despite the obvious size difference, Rachel managed to fasten it in place. The cups sagged - Rachel is particularly well endowed - so she stuffed them with tissues. I was instructed to sit at her feet, while she watched a soap opera on TV. One actor in particular appealed to her, and she made me eat her pussy right through the programme. She had several orgasms, and all I had was a badly aching jaw and a rock hard prick, with no guarantee of relief in the foreseeable future.

 

After watching the late news, - It didn't turn Rachel on so I was permitted to watch with her - we went to bed. My hands were tied as usual, and my mouth gagged. I expected my feet to be tied next, but instead, Rachel turned me over on my face, then secured my feet.

"I've decided to let you off with a warning for the lie, well, a warning and a spanking to be accurate. My nightie was pulled up to my waist, and my panties down to my thighs. Then Rachel - packing a lot more punch than the small frame suggested - reddened my behind with her hand. I don't know how long she continued, but I do know my behind was sore long before her hands.

This was a whole new experience for me. No one, even my parents, had ever spanked me like that. As my punishment had begun, I felt nothing but resentment toward Rachel. What had started out as a game, was turning into more of a nightmare. But then, with the increased pain, a strange thing happened. Instead of an equal increase in resentment, I began to accept the inevitability of the punishment. It was as if I was trying to rationalise Rachel's actions. I had, after all, lied to her, and if the roles had been reversed, I would probably have done exactly the same thing. By the time Rachel had finished punishing me, I had turned the emotion round from one of anger, to one of acceptance. I really believed I deserved the spanking, and it frightened me.

As I lay there, trying to control my confused emotions, Rachel took two more Polaroids. I tried to hide my tear stained face, but she insisted I look at the camera. My feet were released and I was turned over on my back. The pain had subsided slightly by now, but I would still have preferred to stay on my stomach. Next came the nightly sucking to the edge of orgasm, and withdrawal at the crucial moment. Followed by a goodnight kiss on the forehead.

Nothing much happened the following day at work. It was Friday, and I had a weekend of service to look forward to. I dreaded what Rachel might come up with, but it also excited me, and I spent half the day with an erection. Fortunately I'd worn my baggiest suit, to try and hide the telltale signs of my suspenders. But I caught Kerry looking a couple of times, and I think she suspected my undergarments weren't those usually worn by men.

After lunch, Kerry came into my office, carrying a freshly cleaned dress. "Your wife asked me to pick up your dress from the cleaners, she said you would be sure to forget, and you needed it for tonight."

I laughed nervously, "You mean her dress don't you Kerry?"

She held up the black sequined evening dress, it was obviously far too long for Rachel to wear, and we both knew it. "If you say so, where would you like me to put it."

I pointed to my coat rack, as I bowed my head to hide the embarrassment, pretending to read some papers. "Over there's fine thanks Kerry."

The next time I walked through the office, I could feel Kerry's eyes burning into the back of my head. I couldn't wait to get out of there, and become an anonymous commuter. At least for a while, no one would suspect I had anything to hide. I usually went for a drink with the people in the office on Fridays, but tonight I just wanted to get away. I didn't know whether Kerry had mentioned anything to them, but I couldn't face the thought of their looking at me.

"Ah there you are Phil, Kerry said you left early, aren't you feeling well?" I wanted to abuse her for the humiliation she'd caused me, but I had realised on the way home, it was all in my head, except for one idle comment from Kerry. "I'm fine, I just didn't feel like a drink tonight."

"I'm glad you're home early, and I see you've got the dress, good. I decided to make dinner for us, a special meal. And we can both dress formally now you have your own evening dress. Why don't you go into the bedroom and try it on, wait, I'll come in and help you with your bra shall I?"

Instead of the tissues, Rachel had a new idea for stuffing my bra. She’d spotted a packet of, almost skin coloured, balloons at a novelty shop. She quarter filled two of them with, of all things, cooking oil. Once they were stuffed into the bra, they looked, so long as you didn’t look too closely, and felt very real. Once the dress was fitted round my chest, I had to admit it looked quite realistic. The dress was a little baggy in places, but it fitted reasonably well, not that I was thrilled about that, I just thought it might be of interest to the fashion conscious.

Rachel and I chatted like the lovers we were, over an excellent dinner. The only difference being, as I needed to be reminded, I called her Mistress Rachel. "I almost forgot Phil, I decided to cancel your golf game for tomorrow, but don't worry, I made a booking for you on Sunday. I need you to help me with the shopping tomorrow." I hate shopping, and Rachel knows it, this was going to be her worst punishment yet. I thought, as I cleared away the dishes. I didn't realise how prophetic that thought would be.

As we set off for the shops, Rachel seemed to almost flaunt her ever growing - scarlet today - fingernails at me, as a constant reminder of my folly in misjudging her willpower. We did all the grocery shopping; Rachel asked them to deliver, as we had other things to do. This struck me as unusual, normally groceries were all she bought on Saturdays.

As we walked down the street, she stopped at one of those opportunity shops.

"Let's go in here, you never know what treasures you find in these sort of places." She suggested innocently. After browsing around the shop for a while, we came to the women’s clothing area. My blood froze in my veins as I finally grasped the significance of our visit to this particular shop. In our less affluent days, Rachel used to say they had the best range of women’s clothes in the city, and she frequently bought outfits there.

I knew that she intended to buy clothing for me, and I wanted to run from the shop as fast as I could. As I hesitated, an assistant, a woman in her mid to late forties, came over and asked if we needed any help. "Not at the moment thanks, we're just looking." Rachel replied. I decided not to run after all, it seemed she had no intention of embarrassing me. Oh God, how wrong could I have been?

Rachel flicked through a rack of dresses, seeing nothing she liked, she moved on to another rack, this time finding a floral dress, which appealed to her. She took it from the hanger, and held it up tantalisingly. I knew what was coming, but my legs seemed powerless to move. As she approached me, I begged her with my eyes, not to do this. But she was unwavering in her determination to prove her domination over me.

She slowly lifted the dress to my frame. Settling it against my shoulders, she instructed me to hold it, while she took a backward step, ostensibly to inspect the overall effect. But in truth, to enjoy my humiliation at her hands. Once she got started, there was no stopping her. She held up dress after dress, rejecting most, accepting an occasional one. She even solicited the advice of the stunned assistant, asking if she thought I had the colouring to get away with wearing a grey mini.

Having selected about a dozen dresses, we moved on to the undergarments. Here I was instructed to model slips, both full and half. Rachel bought six, three of each. She asked the assistant if she had any panties, "I'm tired of him always wearing mine, it's time he had some of his own. She bought about a dozen pairs, in assorted colours and styles, including a pair of ridiculous navy blue knickers. "You can wear these with your schoolgirl outfit." She laughed.

 

The assistant was becoming almost as enthusiastic as Rachel, whether at the thought of humiliating me, or at the prospect of what must have been an enormous sale, I never knew, nor at that moment cared. She suggested to Rachel, that some of the dresses may be a little small for me, and when Rachel moved to replace them, the assistant quickly indicated the foundation garments.

They were in their element, holding corsets round my body, fastening suspender belts on me, and making me hold roll-ons next to me. They even found some bras with padding built in, and a gathering crowd looked on mockingly as they were fastened around my chest. I'd worn a sloppy sweater on purpose, so my oil filled bra wasn't too noticeable. But Rachel soon drew attention to it, by lifting my sweater and removing the balloons. After selecting several more articles, Rachel asked the assistant to total up the purchase.

I breathed a silent sigh of relief; my ordeal was almost over. But Rachel had one more humiliation planned. "Do you have any shoes in his size Pam?" She was now on first name terms with the assistant.

"Oh we're bound to have, let's have a look shall we?" I was ushered over to the shoe section, where, to my horror, there were hundreds of pairs of shoes in racks.

"What about these Rachel?" When Pam held up a pair of 4" stiletto heels. Rachel could hardly contain her delight.

"Phil, try these on, no silly, take off you socks as well." My stockinged feet and scarlet toenails were now on display for everybody. To this day, I still consider that Saturday to be the most humiliating experience of my life. Of course other things happened to me over the next weeks, as I will continue to narrate, but the first public humiliation, - like the first lover - is the one that you always remember.

Rachel loves shoes, and in addition to the six pairs she bought for me, she found two pairs for herself. "Phil is going to enjoy licking these Pam, I don't know how I can thank you for all your help."

"I do." Pam replied mysteriously.

"You could invite me round for a viewing, a sort of fashion parade. That's if Phil doesn't mind."

"It doesn't matter whether he does or not," Rachel said, "I'd love you to come round, how about tonight, say 7 o'clock. We could have dinner, then Phil could model his new clothes for us." She gave Pam the address, and ordered me to gather the bags, then walked out of the shop, I could feel everyone staring as I made a hurried exit in her wake. If I'd had any hopes of things getting easier over the next weeks, Rachel had just dashed them well and truly.

Pam arrived right on 7. I'd been allowed to wear a black knee length dress, on top of my usual underwear. My feet were squeezed into the high heels Pam had first chosen. And I found it very difficult to walk, as I teetered over to answer the door. I hardly felt embarrassed at all, as Pam entered, commenting on my clothing as she passed into the room. I suppose I was used to her remarks, and accepted her as a co-tormentor with Rachel.

I served dinner to the two ladies; I was permitted to eat in the kitchen, though I had very little appetite, as I anticipated the evening ahead. It lived up to, - or down to - my worst expectations. I paraded in one outfit after another, Rachel insisted I wiggle my hips like a real model, and at one stage, I went sprawling on the floor as my tenuous control of the high heels was momentarily lost. Incredible as it may sound, this was the most embarrassing moment of the whole evening, despite what happened later. But I'm jumping ahead of my story.

 

When it was time to try on the grey mini, it was soon apparent that it wouldn't fit. This was the cue for Pam to suggest the red corset they'd both liked so much. Since it had a built in bra, the one I was wearing was removed. "He's not very hairy is he." Pam commented as they fitted the full-length corset to my frame. "That's because I insist on his shaving his body, as I told him, I don't like those little hairs in my teeth when I suck him."

"You allow him to have sex then?" Pam sounded a little surprised. Over dinner, she had been appraised of the situation, and my slavery.

"Of course, after all, I want him happy, and it's also a useful form of punishment. I get him aroused quite regularly, but he hasn't been allowed to come for a few days now. I think I may permit it tonight though, after all, he's been very good today, don't you think?"

"Without doubt, and knowing you the way I think I do, he'll fill a bucket when you finally permit him to come."

"We'll see." Rachel smiled.

As they chatted, ignoring me completely, they tightened the corset around my body. It wasn't so much uncomfortable, as restricting. It felt as though my whole body was being squeezed, - which of course, it was - and the only problem seemed to be a difficulty in breathing. I've read articles about Victorian women who used to pass out because of their tight corsets. And I had visions of collapsing at any moment. I didn't of course, My waist was only pulled in about 4", whereas the Victorians used to get their waists down to ludicrous sizes.

A side effect of the tight corset, was a fairly impressive cleavage. Padding was no longer necessary. Then, with their assistance, because bending was out of the question, I pulled the mini dress on. It actually fitted quite well, though it exposed the top of my stockings, making me look like a hooker from the neck down. Pam mentioned this. "Don't you think we should do something about his face, after all, he's dressed like a hooker, shouldn't his face be made up the same way?" Rachel laughed, and they set about transforming my face with very heavy make up.

My hair is quite long, so they teased it up to a more feminine style, then, satisfied, they decided I could stay in that outfit for the rest of the night. I was sent into the bedroom for the nail polish. Rachel had no intentions of allowing me to forget the reason for my predicament, just because Pam was there. I spent the next half-hour painting Mistress Rachel’s nails peach. Then Rachel said, "Under the circumstances, I don't think I can expect you to do your own toes tonight. So you may take the polish away. Wait a minute, Pam, would you like Phil to do your nails, he's becoming quite an expert."

"I'd love it, are you sure you don't mind Rachel?"

"I'm positive, Phil, start with her hands. You want your toes done as well don't you Pam?"

"Yes please, but I'm afraid my feet may be a little smelly, I didn't have time to shower before I came here tonight."

"That's okay, Phil will soon fix that, won't you Phil?" I nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?" "Yes Mistress Rachel." It was the first time I'd used her title that night, and the ladies exchanged knowing looks.

Finishing Pam’s fingernails, I turned to go and bring some soap and water. "Where are you going Phil?" Rachel asked. I told her. "That won't be necessary, you can use your tongue, that is, if you don't mind Pam."

"No not at all." Pam replied, quickly disposing of her shoes. She started to remove her tights, but Rachel said I would do it, after I'd cleaned her feet. As I moved to her feet, I was revolted by the odour. It wasn't particularly strong, it was just that, well it was a stranger's odour.

I managed to ignore it, after a few abortive efforts, and soon, I was lapping at her feet, trying my best to get between her nylon covered toes. Rachel decided I would do a better job if I removed the tights, so I obeyed. While Pam was not particularly attractive, she did have a certain quality, and when my hands came into contact with the top of her tights, I found myself becoming aroused.

I pulled them down quickly, and returned to my task, fortunately neither lady had noticed my distress, and I was able to return to my licking without comment. Once I was aroused, the feet took on a whole new perspective, and I began to relish the musky taste as I ran my tongue between Pam's toes. I was quite disappointed when Rachel decided they were clean enough, and I should begin painting the nails.

As I performed my duty, Pam, who was becoming far more relaxed, asked Rachel a few questions about my slavery. As she answered, Rachel, as was now the norm, took photographs of me working on Pam's toes. "But how do you know he isn't sneaking off when you're asleep, and, ermm, relieving himself."

"Oh that's easy, I tie him to the bed every night."

"You're kidding, I wish I'd had the courage to do that to my ex husband, he was hopeless in bed, and I would have loved to live out some of my fantasies with him. But all he ever did was sleep."

"What sort of fantasies did you have?" Rachel asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Well, it's a little embarrassing to talk about, but mostly, exactly what you're doing with Phil, but more with me forcing him, you know, catching him unaware and tying him up. I almost did it one night, but I was scared I may make a mess of the knot." Pam laughed nervously. "That was my biggest fantasy, just tying a man up."

"Well that's easy fixed, why don't you practice on Phil?"

"Oh I couldn't, I'm sure he wouldn't like it for starters, but I wouldn't know what to do anyway." I looked up from my painting, 'Damn right she couldn't,' I thought to myself, there was no way I was going to let Pam tie me up. She didn't win the bet, so I owed her nothing.

"Of course you could, just start with something simple, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. And as for Phil not liking it. He's my slave, and as such, he'll do whatever he's told. Won't you Phil?" She had me there, according to the terms of the bet; I had no choice in the matter. I stood up in front of Rachel, having finished Pam's toes, I thought of defying her, but one look at that face and I knew she'd make me regret it.

"Yes Mistress Rachel, whatever you say." I answered.

"Good, when you put the polish in the bedroom, you can bring a couple of your old ties for Pam, there are plenty you can’t use anymore. Well, what are you waiting for?" She snapped, as I hesitated. I quickly collected the nail polish, and raced into the bedroom. Returning with three of my ties. I handed them to Pam, then waited for instructions. Pam flushed as she held the ties. "I can't, I don't know..."

"Turn around and kneel in front of Pam." Rachel interrupted. I followed her orders and knelt with my back to them. "Go ahead Pam, he won't bite." Pam leaned forward and took my left arm in her hand; she pulled it back gently, as if scared to hurt me. Then she tied one of the ties round my wrist. She hesitated, and Rachel gave her a few words of encouragement. I wanted to pull my arms away, but Rachel stood up beside me to take even more Polaroids, and the expression on her face as she looked at me, was one of warning.

 

Pam's confidence increased, and she pulled my other arm around, this time more forcefully. She bent it up my back, and brought the other one up to it, securing my wrists together. Then she wrapped another tie round my neck, and fastened it to the first. For someone who had apparently never done this before, she did one hell of a job of immobilising me. If I pulled hard on my arms, I would only succeed in choking myself. I waited nervously for the next move, hoping Rachel would decide that was enough.

They examined the knots together; Rachel complimented her on her efficiency.

"Don't you think Pam's done a good job Phil?" She asked. "Turn around." I shuffled round to face them. "Aren't you going to thank Pam for being so lenient with you, I'm sure I would have been far more aggressive if I'd been in her place." I started to say thank you but Rachel cut me off with a curt, "Not like that idiot, I'm sure she'd enjoy having her pussy eaten. Wouldn't you Pam?" I was horrified,

"NO, I won't do..." With a lightning move that shocked the hell out of me, Rachel slapped me hard across the face. "I can see I've been far too lenient with you myself. You've insulted our guest, and you've insulted me. Believe me, you'll pay for that. Now do as you're told."

I know this will sound ridiculous, but despite all that had happened that day, the way I was dressed, the way I'd been treated all night, and the way Rachel had spoken to me. That slap was the most embarrassing thing that had happened to me since my slavery had begun. It was as if I'd been a willing participant in everything that had preceded it, but now, Rachel was showing the world how much control she could exert.

Still stunned from the vicious slap and all it's implications, I moved my head towards Pam’s knees. Still unsure of herself, she separated them slightly as I moved closer and was given a smile of reassurance when she glanced at Rachel. I licked her knee gently, and she immediately opened her legs wider. "Shouldn't I take my panties off?" She asked Rachel.

"No don't bother, he can work round them, after the way he insulted you, I have no intention of making anything easy for him." Rachel’s words sounded an ominous warning in my ears; to accompany the ringing which her slap had given me.

 

I worked my way up Pam's leg until I reached the crotch of her panties. Then, with some difficulty, I managed to force my tongue in the side of her panties and into her, now soaked, pussy. She moaned as I pushed my insistent tongue deeper into her. I have always enjoyed eating pussy, and have had quite a few in my time. So once I was there, it no longer seemed important who's pussy I was eating, and I launched myself into the work, encouraged by the moans and gyrations that accompanied my thrusting tongue.

It was obvious Pam was unused to being eaten, and it was equally obvious, she hadn't had sex of any description in quite a while, because, in a very short time she was grinding and moaning in the final throes of orgasm. I tried to continue licking her after she'd come, but she pushed my head away as she became over sensitive. "I suppose you think that makes up for everything?" Rachel snapped, as she glared into my face, which was glistening from a mixture of sweat and Pam’s juices. "Well it doesn't, not by a long way. Now get into the bedroom while I discuss your punishment with Pam."

I walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I've read stories of how the most frightening part of any punishment, is the waiting. I never believed that, until that moment. I waited 15 minutes for the girls to follow me in and believe me, by the time they arrived I was scared. "Pam wanted to forgive you, but I prevailed on her to teach you a lesson. I hope you learn from your mistakes, because I assure you, I won't be anywhere near as kind to you in the future." For a brief moment, I thought I was going to be let off, but my hopes were dashed by Rachel’s' next words. "Tell him what we decided Pam."

"I'm not sure I..."

"Come on now Pam, we agreed, remember?"

"Yes, all right, Phil, Rachel is going to bring me a cane from the garden shed, and I'm going to lay you on your stomach, pull down your panties, and thrash you. As I do, you're going to count the strokes out loud, if you miss any, we start again until we reach 20. Is that right Rachel?" She asked, as she turned to Rachel for support.

"Almost, but you forgot about the thanking part."

"Oh yes, after each strike, you will thank me and say you're sorry. Is that all?" Again she looked to Rachel who nodded, then they both left the room.

I don't know where Rachel learned about this psychological business of making me wait, but I do know she was very good at it. I was shitting myself by the time they returned. I looked up at Rachel, begging her wordlessly not to do this. She was unmoved, and sat on a chair in the corner to observe the beating.

After preparing me as she'd indicated, Pam raised the cane for the first blow. It was surprisingly gentle, and I was sure I could put up with twenty of these.

"Thank you, I'm sorry, one." I recited.

"NO you idiot, 'One, thank you Pam, I'm sorry I insulted you. Now start again, and this time get it right, and Pam, really give it to him, he won't break, and he deserves it for what he did to you." Pam brought the cane down again, this time much harder, the severity, coupled with the searing pain, took my breath away momentarily. But I recovered, and said my piece.

After the sixth stroke, I forgot to thank her, Rachel fumed and the count restarted. By the time it was over, I was almost screaming, tears were pouring down my face, even though the area being beaten was now almost numb. Or maybe that was just some mental block my mind had used to relieve the pain. Either way, when Pam delivered the final stroke, I was a blubbering mess, and had great difficulty in saying my lines. "I suppose that will have to do," Rachel decided. "I'm not too thrilled with the way you said it those last few times, but lucky for you, I can see Pam is getting tired. Come on Pam, let's get a drink." To me she said, "You have 5 minutes, then I expect to see you in the other room." They walked out leaving me sobbing into the pillow.

I dutifully emerged from the bedroom 5 minutes later. My panties were round my knees, and the girls laughed at the sight as I teetered in on the high heels, my hobbled knees making walking all the more difficult. The two ladies left me standing in front of them, as they discussed what to do next. A change had come over Pam, she was far more confident, I suppose once you've had a guy eat your pussy, then you've given him a hiding, there's little reason to be nervous around him from then on.

They decided to have me try on some more of my underwear. So, after untying my hands, they told me to undress. "Slowly, let's see a bit of tease." Rachel demanded. I moved awkwardly as I tried to look provocative, in the way I imagined strippers do. I've never actually been to a strip show; so, apart from the things I'd seen on TV I had little to go on. As I dropped my dress to the floor, Rachel stopped me, "That's enough of that, you're hopeless. Come over here, If we wait for you to strip it'll take all night."

When she unfastened my corset the relief was incredible. I felt dizzy when I was able to breathe properly for the first time in ages. Rachel and Pam put me into several more undergarments, every time I was dressed in a new corset, or roll-on, Rachel took photographs of me. She even had Pam take a couple of her standing over me in a menacing pose. The way she was taking the snaps, we would need several albums to fit them all in.

Around midnight, Pam decided it was time to leave, she thanked Rachel for, as she put it, a night she would have fantasies about for years. Then she surprised me, by coming over to me and kissing me passionately on the lips. "Thank you Phil, I'll never forget you as long as I live." I was quite moved, I knew she was completely genuine in her gratitude, and it almost made up for all she'd done to me, almost. Rachel saw her out, I heard them swapping phone numbers, and, in a funny way, I was glad there was a chance I'd meet her again. Maybe it was that syndrome the psychologists talk about, where hostages sometimes fall in love with their captors, I don't know. I was far from in love with Pam, but I did feel quite fond of her.

Rachel and I went straight to bed. I was wearing black corselet and fishnet stockings, which I started to remove. "Leave those on, and get into bed." She ordered. "Apart from the little incident, which I think you were fully punished for, you were very good today." As she spoke, she tied me up in my usual sleeping position.

"How would you like that inside me?" She pointed to my hard on.

"Are you kidding, I'd love it."

She raised her eyebrows, "We'll talk about your lack of respect tomorrow, but right now I'm feeling pretty horny. I doubt you'll last very long in your present condition, so I'd better ease the pressure." She leaned over and took my erection in her mouth, she'd been quite right; I lasted about 10 seconds before I exploded into her mouth. When she'd milked me dry, she began licking my nipples and nibbling my neck. She knew how this always turned me on. She talked to me as she stroked my limp penis, telling me how much she was enjoying my slavery, and how she really looked forward to the next three weeks. As she continued, asking me how I'd enjoyed her treatment so far, my prick began to swell. Before long, it was fully erect again.

Rachel wasted no time in making full use of my swollen cock. Climbing over my body, she quickly impaled herself on my erection and began pumping slowly up and down, all the time moaning with pleasure. Tied, as I was, I was almost unable to move, so she controlled the whole process. Gradually, she increased the tempo, her excitement rising to a fever pitch. It occurred to me, that in imposing celibacy on me, she had inadvertently deprived herself, of what I knew she enjoyed most, a good hard fuck. Before long, her body convulsed in wave after wave as she reached sexual fulfilment. She had three more orgasms before I was ready to come again, and when I finally shot my load, she screamed as one last orgasm pulsed through her body.

We lay side by side, our breathing gradually slowing. Rachel stroked my chest and said. "You'd better get up early tomorrow, I want my breakfast before you go to golf." I was amazed.

"You mean I can still go?"

"Of course you can, I said you could didn't I." She kissed me gently, and turned over, switching out the light. "By the way, leave those on under your golf clothes. Goodnight." I knew she'd come up with something, how the hell was I going to play golf in this outfit. Well, I suppose it could be worse, she could have made me play in the full corset I'd worn earlier that night.

I went to golf the next morning after serving Rachel her breakfast. She decided I should eat something before I left, and it turned out to be her. I explained my posture to my golf partners, as a bad back, for which I had to wear a special surgical corset. They were quite concerned; they even took the ball out of the holes for me, to save me from having to bend. An incredible thing happened, I won the day’s event. Without going into technical detail, I'll just say that thanks to the corselet, I had to keep my back straight, and adjust my swing accordingly. I couldn't do a thing wrong. Every shot was straight down the middle; I've never played so well in my life.

When I got home, I told Rachel what had happened. She couldn't stop laughing.

"Maybe you'd better wear it all the time for golf in future." She suggested. She gave me a kiss of congratulations, then her expression changed slightly. "Now that you've had your fun, it's time to get down to work. Go into the bedroom and change into the outfit I've laid out on the bed. Then report back to me here."

I was far too happy about my victory to let anything upset me today. Or so I thought, until I saw the clothes she'd laid out. It was a schoolgirls uniform, gymslip, white blouse, and those disgusting navy blue knickers she'd bought, and even a pair of long black stockings. My mood changed dramatically, I wanted to go back and call the whole thing off, but it had gone too far for that. I slowly undressed, and donned the outfit. I couldn't remember her buying it at the opportunity shop.

Then I remembered this was what Rachel was wearing the first time we met. It was at a fancy dress party about six months ago. I remember thinking how sexy she looked, and asking a friend about her. It wasn't until two months later that I asked her out. Looking at myself in the mirror, I can tell you, Rachel looked far better in these clothes than I did. I decided to get her to wear them again when the month was up.

Rachel was reading the Sunday papers when I entered. I expected her to laugh, but instead, she pointed to the floor in front of her, signalling me to stand there. "I've decided to teach you a lesson, quite literally. You will sit at the desk, and write out one thousand times, 'I must remember to give Mistress Rachel her correct title.' And make sure it's neat, or I'll have to think of another punishment. Well don't just stand there, get to it." 'My God' I thought, 'She's serious.'

"Mistress Rachel, can't we do something else please?"

"Okay, I'll give you a choice, the lines, or fifty with the cane, but before you answer I warn you, I can hit a lot harder than Pam. Well which..." Before she could finish, I was at the desk and writing. "I thought you might see it my way." She remarked as she picked up the newspaper.

It took over three hours to complete the lines. My hand was aching so badly, by the time I'd finished, I could hardly hold the pen. Rachel looked them over then, satisfied with the work, she tore them up and threw them in the waste paper basket. For one horrible moment I thought she was going to make me do them again. But after a pause obviously intended to make me think that, she said, "Very good, now go and change into your sexiest underwear and make dinner, I'm starving."

I was so relieved, I almost ran into the bedroom. She stopped me in my tracks with, "Haven't you forgotten something?" I turned to face her, my mind racing, what could she mean. Then it struck me.

"Sorry. Thank you Mistress Rachel."

She smiled "Your welcome dear."

I selected black stockings with red satin panties, matching bra, and a black suspender belt. I would have worn red, but I didn't have one. I put some low heels, and my apron completed the outfit. As I walked through into the kitchen, Rachel nodded her approval, and went back to the book she was reading.

Once again, I was permitted to eat dinner with Rachel. We chatted as we had before the bet. I almost forgot my situation, but a glance down at my clothing, soon reminded me. I'd removed my apron, and was sitting there in my underwear. As I cleared the dishes away, Rachel seemed to be considering something, "I've decided, since you like that underwear so much, you can wear it to work tomorrow."

I stopped what I was doing, and was about to protest. "Yes, was there something you wished to say?" She was almost daring me to argue.

"No Mistress Rachel, thank you. Would you like coffee now Mistress Rachel?"

"Yes, and get a cup for yourself if you wish, then come over here and rub my feet."

Later that night, before we went to bed, I had to give Rachel a bath. I removed all my clothing so it wouldn't get wet, then I washed Rachel while she lay in the bath. I wore the black nightie to bed, and was rewarded for my obedience that day, with more incredible sex. I was beginning to enjoy Rachel screwing me, while I lay there helpless. It was as though I could receive all the pleasure without doing any of the work.

The next few days were routine, under the new regime that is. I earned no punishments and enjoyed sex with Rachel every night. My secretary Kerry had been making sly comments all week. Obviously she suspected something, and was fishing for information. On Thursday, an important client was in town for a short while, and it was necessary to cancel my squash booking. I was relieved in a way, as I knew I'd be wearing my tracksuit again, and I didn't enjoy the prospects.

I called Kerry on the intercom, asking her to cancel my booking, and she made some comment about my skirt being in the wash. It had been a hard day, and I was in no mood for her remarks, so I called her into my office, and gave her a real dressing down. You know the sort of thing, 'If you want to keep your job here,' and, 'remember your position' etc, etc. The upshot was, Kerry left my office in tears. Maybe I'd been a little hard, but she had provoked me.

I left the office shortly after; Kerry wasn't at her desk so I was unable to apologise to her. I got home about seven that night. The meeting had been a huge success, and I'd stopped on the way home for a bottle of wine and some flowers for Rachel. I walked in, and handed them to her. "Conscience pricking you is it?" She asked calmly.

"I'm sorry, Mistress Rachel," - after writing the lines, I never forgot her title - I don't understand what you mean."

"You know very well what I'm talking about," She flared, "I rang you up earlier, Kerry was still sobbing over the tongue-lashing you gave her. The poor girl was shattered."

"Oh that, I admit I went a little far, but she had it coming to her. She's been making..." Rachel held up her hand for silence. I obeyed instantly.

"I'm glad you feel her humiliation was justified, let's hope you think the same about your punishment. Now, get into the bedroom and strip."

If the last two weeks had taught me anything, it had taught me not to argue with Rachel when she was in this mood. I stormed into the bedroom and pulled my clothes off. Then sat on the bed waiting. Rachel came in five minutes later. "Go to the toilet, you won't have the chance later."

"But I don't need to..."

"GO NOW." I rushed out of the room, I managed to squeeze a few squirts of piss out, and then I raced back to the bedroom. I knew better than to keep Rachel waiting. She was standing next to the bed, holding the full-length corset. As I approached, she spun me round roughly, and fastened the hooks at the back. Then she turned me round to face her, and without a word, she began tugging on the drawstrings.

She pulled it in tighter than I'd ever had it before. I doubt it would have pulled in any tighter, no matter how she tried. She made me lie on the bed. "Make yourself hard." She commanded, pointing to my limp prick. I obeyed instantly, grasping my prick in my hand, I began pulling it. Despite my best efforts, fear was keeping me from getting more than semi erect. She stopped me.

"That'll have to do, NO, don't let go."

She picked up a roll of packing tape from the table, and taped my hand and prick together. Then she taped my wrist to my thigh to make sure I couldn't move it. She had me place my other hand flat against my other thigh, and wrapped the tape round both, from my fingertips to my wrist. I started to ask her what she was doing. But she slapped my face to silence me. Then to ensure my silence, she stuffed two pairs of panties into my mouth, and secured them with more tape.

Leaving the room briefly, she returned with a coil of rope I'd bought. I intended to use it as a clothesline, but she had other uses for it. She made a loop, which she slipped over my head, and then she began winding the rope round my body, securing my arms to my sides. She cut the rope when she reached the bottom of my corset, then tied the end off. Slipping the loose end under my chin, she knotted it to my 'rope collar' and took it down my front. Every so often she looped it through one of the crosspieces, and tied a knot, then continued down.

At the bottom, she fed the rope between my legs, to one side of my genitals, then standing behind me; she pulled the rope viciously up between the cheeks of my arse. Finally, she worked the rope up my back tying it at the top. She pushed me face down on the bed, then produced that hateful cane from somewhere, and began beating my behind.

She'd warned me that she would hit far harder than Pam, and she wasn't kidding. I was writhing in agony when she finally tossed the cane aside and picked up the Polaroid. For some reason, she took three photos instead of the usual two. Then she left me there for a while.

On her return she ordered me over to the bedroom cupboard. Opening the door, she thrust the clothes aside, and pushed me in. She took the packing tape, and, starting at my hands, she spiralled it down to my feet, wrapping my legs in the sticky paper, which took several rolls. When she'd immobilised me totally, she took three more photos then, as she closed the door she said, "Goodnight." As I heard the key turn in the lock. The full gravity of my situation struck me. She intended to leave me in this cupboard all night. Unable to move a muscle, and in a standing position. I wanted to scream out at her, but she'd made that impossible. Never in my life, before or since, have I spent such an uncomfortable, terrifying night. Thoughts such as, 'what if she dies, who will know I'm here.' Kept running through my mind. I don't know if I slept, but if I did it was only briefly.

Rachel released me early the next morning. After untying the ropes, she took great delight in slowly peeling the tape off. It didn't hurt much; my legs were too numb to feel anything. After sending me to get her breakfast, she admitted I would be useless at work that day, and called the office, saying I had bad migraine. It wasn't entirely false; I did have a splitting headache.

Before leaving for work, Rachel gave me my orders for the day. I was to clean the house from top to bottom, and have a gourmet meal prepared for her when she came home. She'd ring me during the day if she thought of anything else. I had a feeling she would.

I slept for a few hours, longer than I'd intended in fact. It was about 10 a.m. when the phone rang. "Meet me outside your office at one o'clock, you're going to work this afternoon." She hung up. I raced round the house, cleaning it as best I could in the short time available. Fortunately, I cleaned it frequently, so it wasn't too bad. Then I showered and dressed. As I got to the door, I realised I wasn't wearing any female underwear, so I raced back in and threw on the first things I found. Black lace panties, matching bra and suspender belt, and black stockings. Then I realised; I was wearing Rachel’s underwear. It was too late to change now; I just had to hope Rachel wouldn't notice.

I was a few minutes late, but Rachel didn't seem to care. We went to a local restaurant for a quick meal, and she acted as though nothing had happened the night before. "You look tired, didn't you sleep well."

"Not very, no. I was cold, and kept getting cramps in my legs." I replied.

"Oh dear, maybe you should change your habits, I'm sure you'd sleep better if you had a clear conscience. By the way, I have something for you to give to Kerry." She handed me a padded envelope. I was about to open it when she said, "No, don't open it, it's a surprise. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll like it."

We ate lunch, and Rachel said goodbye. "I'll ring Kerry later to make sure she likes her gift." Walking into the office building, I was dying to open the envelope but I knew she'd ask Kerry, so I left it sealed. I entered the office and was pleased to see Kerry hard at work despite my absence.

"Good afternoon Kerry."

"Oh, good afternoon Phil, I didn't expect to see you until Monday, how are you feeling."

"Much better thanks. By the way, I'm sorry about yelling at you last night; I had no right to treat you like that. Oh, and this is for you." I handed her the envelope.

"What is it?" She asked as she accepted it. "Open it and see." I said, as I walked into my office.

A few minutes later Kerry walked into my office, I was a little surprised since she usually knocks before entering. As I looked up from my desk, she closed the door behind her. Then, to my surprise, she turned the key in the lock. There was a peculiar expression on her face as she sauntered slowly, almost provocatively, over to my desk and sat on it crossing her stockinged legs and smiling a peculiar smile at me. "Yes Kerry, what can I do for you." I asked. She handed me a sealed envelope with my name on it, and smiled silently as I opened it. "Did you like the gift?" I asked pulling a letter out of the envelope. She didn't speak for a moment, and as I read the letter, I felt the colour drain from my face.

"So far, yes," She replied, "And I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy the rest even more."

The letter was from Rachel and read:

Dear Slave,

By now Kerry has locked your door, so you won't be disturbed. You are to strip down to the underwear you'd better be wearing. Then you are to kneel at Kerry’s feet beg her forgiveness and lick her feet until she decides to allow you to stop. I have informed her of the contents of this note, so she will know what you have to do. If you dare to disobey me, she will call me immediately, and I will come straight round to your office. And I guarantee you won't like the consequences if I do. Unless you wish to spend another night like last night, I suggest you obey immediately.

YOUR MISTRESS

Rachel.

P.S. Kerry has copies of the photographs I took last night. I thought she may enjoy seeing what I did to you, now strip.

As I'd been reading, Kerry had seated herself on the sofa in the corner of my office. I started to rise, then hesitated. She saw my hesitation and said. "I wonder if the girls in the typing pool would care to see these photo's?" I jumped to my feet pulling my shirt open as I rose. In no time, I was kneeling at her feet. She crossed her legs raising the top one to my lips. "I think we'll start with the shoes on, don't you?"

I had no choice; I licked her shoes, covering every inch with my saliva. After I'd finished both shoes, I begged her to forgive me for my treatment of her. She just smiled and flipped her shoes off. "Now the feet, but more slowly this time, I want to savour this moment." She pushed her foot into my mouth and I sucked. Once the initial exposure was over, I quite enjoyed sucking Kerry’s feet. It gave me the chance to admire her legs close up.

Unlike Rachel, Kerry was a tall shapely girl, and very attractive. Not that Rachel was unattractive, she was beautiful, but as I said earlier, she was quite small. In all modesty, I believe Kerry and I could have had something going at one stage, but I made it quite clear, In a diplomatic way of course, that I never mixed business and pleasure. Several of the guys in the office had asked her out; in fact two of them, the office wolves, had had dates with her. They were both loud mouths and yet for some reason neither of them ever mentioned their nights out, or boasted about their conquests. I often wondered about that.

 

I'd been giving the first foot all my attention for about ten minutes, and was ready to move onto the other. Just as I took it into my mouth, the phone rang. I hesitated; assuming Kerry would have to go to her desk to answer it. But she simply lifted the extension next to her hand. "Good afternoon, Mister Barlow's office... Oh hello Missus Barlow, - everyone at the office believed Rachel and I were married - That's very kind of you, Rachel it is. Yes, at this very moment actually, would you like to talk to him? Just a second, I'll get a pencil and paper. Okay I'm ready go ahead... Yes... Yes... Got that... Tonight, well I did have a sort of date, but why not, it sounds delicious... Thank you, maybe we'll save it for tonight... Oh yes, actually I have a few ideas, which may interest you... I look forward to it, around seven, oh and thanks again. Bye Rachel."

 

"That was Rachel, she said I could take as long as I wanted with you, and when I'm finished you're to go home. She wants you to cook garlic prawns, followed by veal cordon bleu for dinner. That's another little secret you kept from me Phil, I didn't know you could cook. I look forward to finding out all your other secrets tonight, Rachel has asked me to join you for dinner." I didn't know whether to be pleased or concerned at the news. I definitely wasn't surprised though.

Before long, Kerry reluctantly decided to permit me to get dressed. She decided I'd need time to do the shopping, and she didn't want to have to wait too long for dinner. As I wandered around the shops, I considered the enigma, which was Kerry. Now I thought about it, she had never struck me as the type who would go running out of the office in tears. In fact, before it happened I would have sworn she was the one girl in the office who never cried. Surely it couldn't be some elaborate hoax on her part. Or could it, I imagined I'd find out tonight.

I got home about three, and prepared the prawns right away, I like to marinate them for a while before cooking. It's one of my secrets to good food. I'd just finished clearing the things away when Rachel walked in. "Is everything ready? Good I think you'd better go and have a little nap, I wouldn't want you embarrassing me in front of Kerry, by falling face first into your food just because you didn't sleep well last night."

This was a rare treat, and I took full advantage of it. I was in bed at the drop of a hat. But then, the most ridiculous thing happened. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, but there was no way I was able to fall asleep. This morning had been different somehow; it was akin to the way the sourest of stolen apples always tasted better than a bought one when you were a kid. I'd stolen that sleep without Rachel knowing, but now, well it was different.

Then it dawned on me. For nearly 2 weeks now, I'd spent every night tied helplessly to the bed. It would seem I'd got used to sleeping that way, because, try as I might, I couldn't get comfortable now. Believe it or not, I even tried stretching my arms above my head, to simulate my normal bondage position, but without the actual bonds, it was useless. I finally accepted lying quietly on my back. I didn't sleep, but at least I was resting.

Rachel called me about 5.30, and I took a shower and dressed in my underwear and white apron, then set about preparing dinner. Kerry arrived around 7.20, I was beginning to think she'd changed her mind, which to my surprise left me feeling disappointed. I served dinner at 8.00, then removed my apron and joined them as Rachel had ordered earlier. Kerry looked a little surprised when I sat down, but said nothing. Again I was struck with the unlikely idea of her crying as I saw the brief stern expression which crossed her face.

As I cleared the dishes away, Kerry spoke to Rachel, "I almost forgot, I brought a gift for you, well for Phil really. I hope you don't have one already Phil." She smiled handing me a carrier bag. "Why don't you go into the bedroom to see what's inside, and surprise Rachel with it, that's if you don't mind Rachel. It will give me a chance to talk to you."

"No, I don't mind, wait in there until I call Phil."

 

I tipped the contents of the bag out on the bed. It was a French maid’s outfit complete with black stockings, white cap and small white apron. One glance told me that it was too small for me to get into. So it was necessary to put on a corset which laced up at the front so I could tighten it. I pulled it in a tight as possible, and even then, the dress only just fitted. Nevertheless, I donned the complete outfit, adding my high heels and black lace panties. Not only was the dress too small, it was far too short reaching less than half way down my thigh when I was standing, and riding up to my crutch when I sat on the bed to wait.

 

Because it had taken quite some time for me to dress in the outfit, I didn’t have long to wait before Rachel called me back to the lounge room. When Rachel saw me, she clapped her hands in delight and had me parade around the room so they could have a good look at me. Then she became more serious as she said, "We've been discussing your treatment of Kerry the other day, and quite frankly, I didn't realise the extent of your rudeness to her. So, at Kerry’s' suggestion, and with the help of a little toy she's brought, you're going to receive further punishment."

"Come over here." I stood in front of Rachel, she raised my skirt, not that it needed much raising, and pulled my panties down to my knees. I tried to look down to see what she was doing, but her head obstructed my view. She was fastening something to my limp penis, and then I felt a tug as she secured it around my balls. As she straightened up, I could see she'd wrapped my cock in a leather sheath, I assumed it was some sort of chastity device. My panties were pulled back into place, and my dress adjusted.

When she tied my hands behind my back, I felt a sharp pricking sensation in my cock, when, as always happened if she tied me up, I started to harden. "Lie on your back on the floor." Rachel ordered. "Kerry, would you do the honours?"

"With pleasure Rachel." Kerry stood up, and pulled her panties off. Then she slowly stepped a cross my body, until I was looking straight up at her naked pussy and behind. She knelt down, her behind in the air, as she leaned forward, I thought she intended to suck me, and my cock hardened in response. Shooting pains right through me.

Obviously whatever Rachel had fastened to my cock was responsible for the pain. The one thing I was sure of was, I didn’t like it. "I think he's starting to get the point." Kerry said, and both girls laughed out loud at this. Before I was able to speak, Kerry brought both her hands behind her, and pulled her cheeks apart, then sat back on my face, her hole right over my mouth.

"What are you waiting for, lick." Rachel snapped. I pushed my tongue inside her arse, it tasted strong, and sweet at the same time, I had never done anything like this before, but as I pushed my tongue in deeper, I found I was really enjoying it. Or would have been, if my cock hadn't been in such pain. I knew what was happening now. A couple of years ago, I seen an ad in one of the sex papers, for a particularly evil looking device. It was a leather sheath similar to the one I now wore. And on the inside were dozens of tiny needles. They only extended a tiny fraction, but I remember thinking at the time, how painful it would be. I never dreamt I'd be wearing one some day. And right now, I'd give anything not to be.

Rachel moved round in front of me, and then I felt the unmistakable sensation of her tongue on the tip of my manhood. Normally, I'd give anything to have her do this. But at that moment I would have gladly turned celibate if she'd only remove the sheath. Kerry spoke. "We intend to keep stimulating you until you manage to make me come. I promise that won't be easy, you see I had sex just before I came here, in fact, I saved something for you." With that, she slid her bottom higher bringing her pussy over my open mouth.

As soon as I probed with my tongue, my mouth began to fill with something. Though I'd never tasted it, I knew it had to be a man’s cum. I nearly gagged as it slid down my throat, and I tried desperately to turn my head, but Kerry held me firmly between her knees. Rachel continued to lick, then she had taken the whole thing, sheath and all, into her mouth and I could feel her sucking. My whole being seemed to be punctured by the needles and I imagined blood running down Rachel’s face as she sucked it from me.

I licked and sucked furiously, trying desperately to concentrate on Kerry, but the pain was so intense, I was sure I would pass out at any moment. Then, Kerry suddenly began grinding her cunt against my face. I knew she was close, and this spurred me on to even more furious licking and sucking. The suddenness with which she came, took me completely by surprise, one second she was grinding her hips, the next she gripped my head between her knees so hard, I expected to hear my neck crack. Her come gushed into my mouth like a fountain, and it was all I could do to keep up with the volume. I swallowed most of it, but a little escaped my efforts and ran down the side of my face. Just as suddenly, Kerry was still.

I'd met women who ejaculated before; even Rachel released a little fluid. But never had I ever known anything like this. I was so amazed, I even managed to forget the incredible pain in my genitals briefly, but it soon returned with a vengeance. When Rachel was certain Kerry had finished her orgasm, she began loosening the sheath from my balls. As she did so, Kerry climbed from my body. I moaned as Rachel peeled the sheath from my erection, at the same time, wondering how it had stayed up through all the pain.

Looking down at my now free prick, I was startled by the complete lack of blood, in fact, there was only a little extra redness to show for all the pain. My erection was subsiding visibly, and a glance at the cruel contraption in Rachel’s hands told me that it had two built in metal half circles, which presumably, when the strap was tightened, pressed against my penis in some way to stop the blood from escaping. I imagine it would also prevent ejaculation, though I doubt anyone could become aroused, with such intense pain.

As I rolled on my side to ease the weight on my bound hands, feeling began to return, and the uncomfortable pins and needles tingling came with it. The two girls were sitting together on the lounge discussing the merits of the sheath. Rachel spoke without looking up, "Go and get us a glass of wine each Phil." I struggled to my feet, and hobbled into the kitchen, my panties were still just above my knees, and I still wore the high heels, so walking was extremely awkward. It was even more awkward to fill two glasses from the cask in the fridge, with my hands tied behind me.

Eventually I succeeded, and hobbled back turning round to give the ladies their drinks. They laughed at my discomfort and Rachel said, "Oops, I forgot all about his hands, maybe we should have untied him first Kerry."

"Not at all, I'm glad to see he's well enough trained that he didn't argue with you, you're doing a fine job there Rachel." I wanted to point out that it was only for two more weeks, but decided it would be a little inappropriate.

"What are we going to do with him now?" Rachel asked. It was almost as if she was pandering to the wishes of her superior. And as they sat side by side sipping their wine and staring at me, I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck, at the sight of Kerry's cruel face. It held an expression which, until now, I'd never noticed before. I'm certain there must have been times in the office when she'd looked exactly like that, but I'd never seen it, or I would have been far more careful.

"Well, it seems to me," Kerry began, "That I'm the only one who's received any satisfaction to date. So why don't you let Phil screw you Rachel?"

"I'd enjoy that, but unfortunately he would be shooting his load everywhere before I was even wet. He's had a little too much excitement. I suppose we could watch him wank himself, and then wait until he was ready again."

"That won't be necessary." Kerry reached into her bag. "I have something here which is guaranteed to stop him until you're ready for him." It was simple enough device, similar to the sheath, but without the dreaded extension. Kerry fitted it around my cock and balls, tying the latter, but leaving the former loose. Then she slipped her wonderful red lips over me, and sucked. My penis grew to it's fullest in about 10 seconds, and to my disappointment, she removed her mouth and secured the straps tightly around the base of my prick. The veins stood out, and I could feel it pulsing with blood.

"Do you have any of the tape you used in those excellent snap shots?" Rachel quickly retrieved it from the bedroom. Releasing my hands, Kerry ran a couple of lengths around my upper arms and body, then my elbows, forearms and finally my wrists. My arms were held securely at my side. "That should do the trick, now why don't we all go into the bedroom, oh, I nearly forgot." She opened her bag again, and took out what I estimated to be an 8" dildo attached to some sort of strap. Rachel said 'Wow' and ran into the bedroom shedding her clothes as she went.

She lay on the bed, naked, her legs spread in readiness. "I'm ready, but I think I'd prefer his cock to that thing." Kerry looked surprised then laughed.

"This isn't for you sweetheart, it's for him." Both Rachel and I said 'What,' at the same instant. The only difference in our expletives was the result. Rachel received a smile from Kerry; I got a hard slap across the face. Even Rachel winced as she saw it. "Don't ever question me, do you understand?" I nodded. "Good, now get inside Rachel, and quick."

Normally I would have needed no encouragement to do as she ordered, but at that time, it took quite a while to get settled. Partly because of my helplessness, but mostly because I couldn't take my eyes off the dildo. It seemed to grow as I stared at it. Then, as I entered Rachel, my attention became more focussed. Still, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kerry stripping. And I was distracted somewhat as I looked at her superb body. She had her back to us, and she reached behind her and fastened a strap round her waist, and two others round each leg. I suspected what she was doing, but was still unprepared for the sight as she turned round exhibiting the phallus standing out from her crutch. "Oh God." I moaned, as I anticipated the next move.

Kerry stood by the side of the bed, slowly stroking the imitation penis. As she did so, she smiled at me. But, it wasn't the smile I saw occasionally in the office. This smile was filled with malice. Rachel handed her a jar of hand cream from the bedside table. At first, I didn't think she intended to use it, but then, it must have occurred to her that she was only an invited guest, because she grudgingly smeared it around my arse hole.

She climbed onto the bed behind me; it was as though the whole room was in slow motion. It seemed to take an eternity for her to eventually place the tip of the dildo against my virgin hole. I expected her to work it in gradually, but Kerry had other ideas. In one solid thrust, she rammed all 8" into me. I let out an involuntary yell, and she snapped, "Shut up, or I'll be forced to gag you." I noticed the concern in Rachel’s eyes, and knew that she too had realised how Kerry was attempting to take over. But the look quickly changed to one of lust, as she felt the repercussion of Kerry' thrusting. Each time she rammed into me, I moved forward to try and avoid being impaled then, as she withdrew almost completely, I followed, unwilling to surrender to her.

Obviously, as I moved my behind, my erection moved rapidly in and out of Rachel and before long she was shouting, "Yes, yes, yes." In concert with my defensive thrusts, she soon exploded in the first of many orgasms. I was in an agony of frustration, as I tried to ejaculate, only to be stopped by the tight ring around my penis. I was also in mental agony, as I realised I was now thrusting, not away from the phallus, but towards it. When Kerry withdrew, I rammed myself into Rachel in an effort to lengthen the stroke from Kerry. And as she plunged into me, I pushed back to meet her.

We continued in this style for upwards of 15 minutes, I begged Rachel to let me come, But Kerry kept stopping her, saying she should leave it a little longer, and that I wasn't quite ready yet. As Rachel erupted into, yet another orgasm, I was certain that this time she'd take pity on me. But before she had chance, Kerry had pulled out of my behind, and as Rachel’s orgasm subsided to a low moan, Kerry pulled me from her body. As she forced me to my feet, my knees buckled and I almost fell on the floor. "Stand up, I'm not through with you yet." She snarled.

I looked to Rachel for help, but she was in a post orgasmic stupor, and seemed totally unaware of her surroundings. Kerry pushed me out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. As it closed I looked over her shoulder at Rachel, She was fast asleep and I knew she would for some considerable time.

Kerry strode into the lounge room, and turned to face me. The 8" phallus strapped to her thighs pointing directly at my stomach like some loaded shotgun. I walked over to her, standing at the place she indicated with her finger. "You enjoyed being fucked by me didn't you." She asked throatily. Scared of her reaction, I admitted I did. "On your knees," she commanded. "Now, show your gratitude." She thrust her hips forward, the dildo brushing my lips. I knew what she wanted, but since I also knew where it had just been, I couldn't bring myself to take the phallus in my mouth. "You have 10 seconds to decide, if you make the wrong decision, I guarantee, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

The tone in Kerry’s voice convinced me that it was no idle threat. I considered shouting for Rachel, but was unsure whether she would help even if I managed to wake her. Reluctantly I made my decision, parting my lips to allow the object of my disgust to slide into my mouth. Surprisingly, there was very little taste at all, except maybe plastic.

I sucked as much as I could into my mouth, gagging as Kerry forced more in. She had no intention of leaving me there for long. It was merely an exercise to prove her dominance over me. She unbuckled the straps round her waist and thighs, leaving my mouth full. Then she paced around taunting me with abuse. After a brief silence she asked, "Do you hate me Phil?" I shook my head no, and surprised myself by realising that it was the truth. Despite all she'd done to me, I didn't hate her.

"That's a shame, I was hoping you would by now. It doesn't matter though, I'm sure you will by the time I leave here. I'd like to do to you, what I did to that braggart Bruce from the office, or that wimp Ken. Ask them to show you their backsides some time. According to the tattoos on each of them, they have herpes. I'm sure that goes down well with any new conquests they make." She laughed cruelly at the thought.

"Unfortunately, you're a one woman man, so that would be useless. I wish I had longer to spend with you, but I imagine Rachel will be awake in an hour or so, so I'll have to make good use of the time available. To save us both the hassles give me your word not to yell and I won't bother to gag you, or maybe you'd prefer it if I did. Do you enjoy being gagged?" I shook my head emphatically no. "Do I have your word then?" I nodded. "Good, then we won't need this anymore, well not tonight at least." She grinned as she tucked the dildo into her bag.

I didn't like the ominous way she'd said that, but I was in no position to question her on the remark at present, so I waited on my knees for her next move. She sat on the lounge in front of me, and crossed her long legs. I stared at her foot bobbing up and down in front of my face. Even though the sight of her naked body was awesome, I was too worried to look up.

"Do you like pain Phil, I hope so because today, you're going to enter a whole New World, a world of pain submission and subjugation. Your life at the office will never be the same again, I'll see to that. From now on it will be run my way, oh don't worry, it’ll be just as efficient, probably more so, but I’ll be in charge." I didn't bother to respond to anything that she'd said, since I knew she was speaking rhetorically.

"Have you ever wondered why I don't have any boyfriends? Well I'll tell you, it's because they're all scared of me. Do you know why? It's because I'm so dominant. Until today, you would have probably laughed if anyone had told you that. But believe it or not, I've been dominating you for ages. You probably thought I was just being efficient when I started making all your appointments for you. In fact, I decide whom you see almost without exception. Remember when you asked me to arrange a meeting with Alan Jenkins, yes, I see you do. You never saw him again did you. I didn't like the look of his face, so I wouldn't let him see you."

"But the other day was my masterstroke. I knew something was going on between you and Rachel, and I suspected it was exactly what it is. So it wasn't too difficult to get you angry, then stage a few tears, which Rachel heard in my voice when we spoke on the phone. The rest, as they say in the classics, is history."

"Now, I think it's time for some fun. I warn you, you may not enjoy this, but I assure you it will hurt you more than it will me." I don't know what I expected, but I assure you what happened was furthest from my mind. Kerry leaned forward, and took my bursting penis into her mouth, teasing and sucking it until I was once more begging for release.

This was what she had been waiting for. "What's it worth to you?" She smiled as she released me.

"Anything." I replied, foolishly.

"All right, beg me to beat you." Her hand moved back to stroke me. This was one thing I couldn't do, and I said as much. Kerry just grinned. And resumed her sucking. This time she took me over the edge, or I would have been if I'd been able to release. I begged her again to let me come. "You know what I want." She smiled sweetly this time. "Why don't you save yourself a lot of discomfort, and beg me now. You will in the end, and between us, I hope it's later rather than sooner, because I love doing this." She resumed her sucking yet again. I held out for quite a while before I was forced to do as she asked. The cruel expression on her face showed her joy at my subjugation. She'd won the final round, and to the victor go the spoils.

She led me into the kitchen, bent me over the table and used a full roll of packing tape to fasten first my legs to the legs of the table, then my body to the tabletop. She had removed my panties before taping my legs, and despite her earlier promise she stuffed them in my mouth, holding them in place with a couple of strips of tape.

As she returned to the lounge room, I remember wondering, how she intended to retrieve the cane from the bedroom without disturbing Rachel. With luck, she would waken her, and I was confident Rachel wouldn't permit what Kerry intended.

Unfortunately, Kerry had come prepared. I'd forgotten the belt she wore when she arrived. Rachel had admired it, saying how unusual it was. From the back, it was just an ordinary leather belt about 4" wide. That part however, was only about 2' long. Starting on each side, it was cut into about ten strips. These ran to each end of the belt and the last inch of each thong was taped a different colour. To secure it around her waist, Kerry simply knotted it loosely. Had I known it's real use, I would never have agreed with Rachel about it being attractive.

Kerry was now folding the belt in the middle; she rolled the pliable leather into a tube, and held it tight with a couple of strips of tape. The belt was then transformed into a formidable looking 20-thong whip with a 12" handle. She assembled the whole thing in front of my eyes, grinning as she saw realisation slowly replaced by fear. "I hope you like my little invention. It took a while to perfect, you see, until I added the tape on the end I could never get it to land with any force. But now, as you're about to find out, it really delivers the goods."

She swished it experimentally in the air a couple of times, then walked round to where my defenceless behind lay exposed. After the first five lashes, it was obvious that Kerry was expert at wielding this whip. She never landed it in the same place twice, but each time, it overlapped the previous stroke. I can only describe her technique for the first five hits, after that, I was to busy suffering to notice. I can say however, that before I passed out, there wasn't a square inch of flesh on my back from my waist to the back of my knees, which hadn't felt the lash.

I don't know how long I was out for; Rachel told me there was no sign of Kerry when she found me taped to the table and revived me. It appeared Kerry had beaten me senseless, then left. Before releasing me, Rachel applied some antiseptic to the places where the skin had been broken, then smoothed cold cream over the rest. I won't repeat what she said as she cut me free from the table, but suffice to say she was furious. In fact, I never knew she had the capacity for so much anger. I was glad it was directed at Kerry and not me.

She undressed me, and put me to bed, on my stomach of course. I related the story to her, and she became even more incensed if that was possible. Her main criticism was no longer the beating, but how Kerry had promised me relief, then withheld it. All I really wanted was to sleep, and pray that the pain would decrease. But Rachel decided I must be allowed to come. She stared to remove the ring from my still bulging and now very tender cock. But then it occurred to her, that I would lose my erection.

She couldn't get into a position to suck me without my lying on my back, which to me, was out of the question. So she decided, quite simply, to pull me on top of her, and screw her. Even with all the pain whenever I moved, I was so horny that I was soon on the verge of coming. Not to be outdone, Rachel was also building to a climax. I would have beaten her, but she wouldn't release me until she was ready herself. When she did, it was as though she'd opened floodgates, I pumped and pumped, my head spinning until I nearly blacked out again, this time though, it was from sheer ecstasy. When we'd both finished, I rolled off her, my tender backside forgotten for the moment. But as soon as it touched the bed, I had an instant reminder. I swung myself onto my stomach again, and was soon able to lose the pain with the help of sleep.

Over the weekend, Rachel tended my wounds and generally took care of me. I had a feeling things were going to be back to normal now, and the bet cancelled. On Monday morning I got up extra early and made her a special breakfast, as a sort of thank you. While she ate, I dressed for work. "What are you doing?" she asked taking another bite out of the croissant. I continued tying my tie as I replied,

"Going to work of course."

"Really, aren't you a little underdressed." I checked, thinking that maybe I'd forgotten my trousers or something.

"I don't think so, what do you mean?"

"I don't remember telling you not to wear stockings, or any of your usual underwear." I stopped in my tracks.

"But I thought...Surely that's all over now?"

"Why should it be, you lost the bet remember. Now get into the proper outfit."

"But after what Kerry did, I thought you'd realised how bad it could get. I assumed you'd had enough."

"Nonsense, I've only just started. Some time in the future I may be forced to do even worse to you than Kerry did."

"Then why were you so solicitous, so caring all weekend?"

"Because she'd done it without my knowledge or permission. I felt responsible for, I suppose you'd call it a miscarriage of justice. I thought you'd been punished enough for what you did to her, so when she treated you that way, I decided to make it up to you. After all, you must admit I haven't punished you without cause since you've been my slave, now have I?"

 

Sighing, I undressed and pulled my fishnet stockings over my legs, black garter belt, red panties and bra completed my underwear. I noticed that my chest seemed to fill the bra slightly more. I guess wearing a corset and pushing it up was starting to shape me a little. "By the way, don't mention this weekend to Kerry, I'll phone her later, I have plans for that girl. And don't forget these." She threw the box of vitamins over to me. "Have you taken this mornings yet?"

"Yes, but I don't feel any different since I started taking them. I think they're a waste of money." Rachel had me taking two in the morning, two at lunch and two in the evening. I quizzed her about the dosage.

"Kerry told me, her doctor recommended the dosage, if you take too many, they only pass straight though, so it does no harm. Now, get to work, and don't be late home, we're having a guest for dinner."

'Not another one,' I thought, 'more humiliation, God I'll be glad when the month's up.' I dreaded seeing Kerry that morning, but she greeted me in the normal manner, as though nothing had happened. Just before she left for lunch, she came into my office and closed the door behind her. 'Now what,' I thought. She walked over and sat on my desk. "I've got some news for you, I've decided what to tattoo on your rump." She handed me a folded piece of paper and started to leave, then she turned and added, "I'm taking a long lunch, you don't mind do you? Oh, and you can tell little Rachel I'll be round on Friday to do that, and if she objects, I'll do hers as well."

I opened the paper and read;

 

KERRYS SLAVE

One word on each cheek in letters 3" tall.

I may draw a whip running though each word or maybe some handcuffs. I'll decide on Friday.

Your Mistress and soon to be OWNER

KERRY.

I waited until I was sure Kerry was well out of the building, then I phoned Rachel and told her everything. "Okay, don't worry, just be sure to get home early, and don't mention this call to Kerry, I'll be talking to her later, so act surprised if she tells you. I have a little surprise planned for her, see you tonight."

I had no idea what was going on, but then, I was getting used to that. I didn't need to act surprised, when Kerry came into my office later and told me to go home early. She said Rachel had invited her to dinner that night so maybe I wouldn't need to wait until Friday for my tattoo.

Rachel told me to change into the maid’s uniform, and wait in the bedroom. Then she came in and outlined her plan for the night. I couldn't believe what she intended, and I doubted she'd get away with it, but she seemed confident enough, and I knew I couldn't be in any more trouble than I already was. There was a knock at the door, and Rachel ran to answer telling me to keep quiet. "It's okay, it's only Pam," She called, "Come and get us a drink while I tell Pam my idea."

We were all sitting together discussing the plan, when Kerry rang the doorbell. I rushed into the bedroom and closed the door, leaving just enough space to hear what went on. "Hi Kerry come on in, I don't think you know Pam, Pam meet Kerry, she's the one I told you about."

"You don't know how pleased I am to meet you Kerry, and how much I admire you, I only wish I could do what you do."

"I'm not sure I understand. Do you mean with men?"

"Yes, Rachel told me how you handled Phil, I couldn't possibly do that to my man. God knows I'd like to."

Pam’s comments were having the desired effect on Kerry’s ego, She started asking Pam about her man, and what she'd tried so far. Pam explained that she'd never had the courage to do anything, but she really wanted to. "My problem is, I'm no good with knots, I'm sure once I tied him up, I'd be able to control him, but I'm scared I'd bungle it, and then he'd hurt me."

"Well use handcuffs, he couldn't escape those."

"I don't have any, and anyway, doesn't it take ages to put them on. I've seen the police do it in movies where they just slap them on, but I tried it in a shop one day, and it doesn't work."

Kerry sighed with obvious impatience. "Here, try mine, Rachel, where's that worm of a husband of yours, she can practice on him."

"Not for a while I'm afraid, he forgot to buy the food for dinner, so I trussed him up and locked him in the cupboard. He's going to stay there for a while."

"Okay, then use Rachel, here I'll show you."

I heard the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clicking, and knew Rachel would be vulnerable now. I was ready to run in and rescue her if I had to, but we would all prefer it if that weren’t necessary. To my relief, I heard the cuffs being unlocked, then Kerry said, "Here Pam, you try it." Again the cuffs clicked, and then were opened, and once more, and open again.

"It’s really quite easy, but my mans wrists are much thicker than Rachel’s' thin arms, won't it be more difficult on him?"

"Damn you’re useless Pam it won't be any more difficult at all, here, try them on me." Kerry snarled.

Once again the handcuffs clicked, I was astounded at how easy it had been. I had fully expected to have to force Kerry into them, and the noise would certainly have been heard all over town. "You're quite right Kerry, it's simple, what do I do next?" Pam asked in her little girl voice.

"Well the first thing you do is release me stupid. Pam, what the hell are you doing in my bag, put that back."

"What is it, what do you do with it?"

"God you’re naive, it's a ball gag, I'm going to use it on Phil tonight when I, that is, when Rachel, why are you looking like that Rachel. I only thought you might."

There was a loud slap; I opened the door a little more to see what was happening. Kerry was standing with her back to me facing Rachel. Who had obviously just slapped her face? "You were planning to tattoo Phil weren't you Kerry. Oh yes, he told me all about it, he also told me you were thinking of doing the same to me if I objected. Isn't that so." Another slap, then another. Kerry was flustered, she started trying to explain her way out of it, but in the mean time, Pam had worked her way round behind her, and as Kerry opened her mouth to speak, Pam forced the gag in and quickly fastened it behind her head.

"You can come out now Phil." Rachel called. I walked into the room, and Kerry spun round, her eyes bulging out of her head as she realised things weren't going to plan. "I wouldn't normally condone what's about to happen, but under the circumstances, Phil, I'm going to get a pizza with Pam, she's all yours, we should be back in half an hour. Kerry, I don't suppose you'll feel much like pizza by the time we come back, so we'll just get enough for 3."

After the two girls had left, I walked slowly around Kerry. As she turned her head to watch me she made muffled groans of supplication coupled with pleading in her eyes. But I could only think of the treatment I'd received at her hands a few nights earlier. I still bore the scars, and would for weeks to come.

"I see you wore your belt Kerry, were you expecting to use it on me, or maybe your ambitions lay with Rachel. Well it's all moot now, but don't worry, it will still get lots of use." I reached forward and removed the belt. Kerry tried to pull away, here pleading turned to threatening, but since no words escaped the stuffed mouth, the only difference was in the intensity of the moans.

"It seems to me, one of us is overdressed in this room." I remarked, then I ripped Kerry’s' white blouse open down the front, sending the buttons flying in all directions. I pulled it down to her wrists, then, despite her attempts to evade my seeking hands; I managed to unbutton and unzip her leather mini, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.

She was obviously dressed for a different kind of action. Matching panties and bra in black leather, and black lace suspender belt holding her seamed stockings, also in black, were intended to give the impression of a dominant woman. I took notice of the intended effect as I walked behind her to unclasp the bra. Lifting it over her head, and letting it drop on the blouse.

As she started to turn and face me, I quickly pulled her panties down to her knees, where they remained, effectively hobbling her. Without much effort, I was then able to force her face down onto the sofa, where I wrapped the blouse around her wrists so as not to impede my access to her shapely behind. As Kerry lay there impassively, I raced into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of Rachel’s discarded tights from the laundry basket. I tied Kerry’s' ankles together, then secured them to the wooden arm of the sofa.

Although Kerry was still able, excessive movement would almost certainly result in her falling on the floor, and with her legs held tight, she would be in danger of banging her head on the floor. I took some tape, and in the same slow fashion Kerry had used, I rolled and taped the belt. Kerry appeared to accept the inevitable beating with some degree of dignity. And I was forced to admire her apparent indifference, though I was sure, with the experience she'd had applying the beatings, that Kerry was well aware of the impending pain.

I swished the whip experimentally in the air; noting the telltale cringe from Kerry as the thongs passed agonisingly close to her face. Then I began my revenge; the first ten or so strokes were relatively gentle, as I tested her reaction. Gradually, I increased the severity of the strokes trying to land each one in a slightly different place as I applied the knowledge gained from several beatings. Starting at the knees, I moved each stroke gradually upwards, until I reached her waist. After a short pause, I continued up her back almost to her shoulders.

Though she was obviously in great pain, Kerry refused to give me the satisfaction of making any sound. The tears were flowing from her eyes, but still she was silent, except for any occasional unrepressed grunt at a particularly well placed delivery. I stopped at her shoulders, and Kerry relaxed visibly, assuming the beating was over. But then, without warning, I delivered another twenty stripes to her behind. These brought a satisfying groan from Kerry and I decided she'd had enough.

"Now Kerry, there was one more thing you did to me which I can't forgive." As I spoke, I released her ankles and led her to the back of one of the big armchairs. The beating had taken most of the fight out of her, so it was relatively easy to bend her forward over the chair.

I reached between her legs, and was surprised to find her pussy was soaking with her juices. Moistening my fingers, I transferred some of the wetness to her arsehole. Aware now, of my intentions, she fought in vain to escape, but I held her tight as I guided the head of my erection to her hole, and pushed firmly. After an initial resistance, I was surprised at how easily I slipped into her arse. This time I heard the unmistakable moans of anguish from Kerry, which only spurred me on to greater efforts.

To increase her humiliation, I slipped my arms round her waist, and played with her pussy which, despite her protests, was now dripping juices. Her clitoris was firm, like a miniature erection, and as I tweaked it, I could feel the involuntary spasms from her stomach. Before long, I felt her responding to my thrusts, and even returning them with increasing force. The most gratifying moment came, when Kerry suddenly - as was her style - achieved a shattering orgasm, minutes later I was exploding into her hole my revenge complete.

When Rachel and Pam returned with the pizzas, the bizarre sight of me sitting opposite Kerry reading a newspaper greeted them. Bizarre because I still wore the maid’s outfit, and she was still cuffed and gagged. As a final touch to her humiliation, I’d had stuffed one of Rachel’s' tampons into each of Kerry’s' holes to prevent the love juices from escaping. I glanced at the door as they entered, and greeted them each with a smile. Kerry on the other hand, stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge their arrival.

Grudgingly I admired her attempt at poise. Despite her appearance, her exposed breasts, the leather panties around her knees, her hands behind her back, and her make up, which had run with her tears. She still managed to give off a certain air of dignity. But with a few words, Rachel achieved what a half hour of humiliating treatment from me, had been unable to. As they munched into the pizza she said, "By the way Phil, I hope you can manage without Kerry next week. She's going on a holiday."

Trying to imitate Rachel’s conversational tone, I replied, "Oh I think I can, is she going anywhere nice?"

"Yes, Pam has very generously agreed to put her up for a week at her place. She was telling me that since her initial experience with your domination, she's managed to bring her two brothers into line."

"Apparently they used to be fairly wild, but now, after a few beatings, they accept her as their Mistress and are almost totally submissive."

"That's true, but it cost me a few aching arms before they agreed to my terms. Now of course, they do all the housework, but they need someone to advise them on the correct way to do things. Kerry will be perfect." Kerry’s' reaction was almost instantaneous, she began shaking her head and making loud muffled protests.

"Oh look Pam, Kerry’s' so pleased she has tears in her eyes. That's all right Kerry, you can thank us later." Rachel simpered, as she patted Kerry on the shoulder.

"We discussed it at some length," Pam continued, "And decided the best idea would be for me to give Kerry to the boys, well I call them boys, actually they're both in their thirties. Anyway, as I was saying, I'll give them Kerry as a sort of incentive. Then, if the work isn't satisfactory, I'll punish them, and they can punish her. Just between us, I've noticed they're getting a lot of erections lately, and naturally, being their sister I'm limited to what relief I can offer. Kerry will fill the gap admirably don't you think?"

As she spoke, Pam had been arranging Kerry’s clothing to something resembling respectability. It wasn't easy with the blouse having no buttons, but knotting it at the front hid most of the damage.

"Goodness me Kerry, that looks sore." She said as she pulled her panties up from behind. "Don't worry, I'm sure the boys will be only too delighted to rub some cream on it for you when we get home. You can't really go out with that in your mouth though." She said, pointing to the gag. Then she pulled a roll of 3" wide; flesh coloured surgical tape from her handbag and peeled a strip off. Pulling her own panties off, she giggled. "This is a little embarrassing." Rachel and I laughed at her shy expression.

Pam removed the ball gag, and in one efficient move, replaced it with the panties before Kerry had time to get a single word out. She stuck the tape over her mouth, then, with a wink at Rachel, she took a lipstick from her bag, and grabbing a handful of Kerry’s' hair to keep her head still, painted lips on the tape. In the night-light, it would be very difficult to see that there was anything unusual about Kerry’s' face. Pulling Kerry’s' coat over her shoulders and fastening it, she said her farewells to Rachel and me. As she kissed me on the lips she said, "Don't worry, I'll get the photographs back, and I'll take some of her that you can use." Rachel overheard her remark and added, "Make sure you take several copies, I can add them to my album, and use them against her if I need to."

Alone again, Rachel asked me to tell her about my treatment of Kerry, but I was more interested in her remark about the album. "I thought that was for us to look through and reminisce, I don't see what place photo's of Kerry would have in the album."

Rachel sighed, "I think we'd better have a little chat. I was going to tell you when your period of slavery was up, but now..."

"Tell me? Tell me what."

"If you'll keep quiet and listen, I'll tell you. As I was saying, I was going to tell you when the month was up, but well I may as well tell you now. It's not going to be up."

"I don't think I understand, are you saying you want to cancel the bet."

"No, not at all, what I'm saying is that I've decided it will continue indefinitely."

I took a few moments to consider Rachel’s' statement, "You've got to be kidding, you really think I'm going to be your slave on a permanent basis. I'm telling you now, the minute my month is up, it's back to normal around here, is that clear?" As I spoke, Rachel walked over to the sideboard and took a book out of the cupboard. She sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to her for me to join her. I moved over and sat beside her, adamant that nothing she said would change my mind.

The book turned out to be an album of the photographs she'd taken of me over the period of my slavery. As if anticipating my next remark she said, "I have copies of all these, and I promise they'll go out in the next mail if you try anything. I already have envelopes addressed to your golf club, your office, and your sister I'm sure she'd enjoy seeing them."

"You wouldn't, not my sister."

"Try me, I guarantee one thing, if you defy me, you'll have to leave town or die of embarrassment."

She closed the album and placed it on the floor. Then immediately changed the subject, presumably to stop me thinking about what she'd said. "Now about your treatment of Kerry, I expected you to beat her, but I don't remember giving you permission to have sex with her. I think it's time we got a couple of things straight. You will never have sex with anyone without my express permission, is that clearly understood?"

She caught me completely off guard, which was exactly what she'd intended. "Yes." I whispered.

"YES WHAT?" She demanded.

"Yes Mistress Rachel, I understand." I was confused by everything that had happened that night, and she took full advantage of that. Pressing home that advantage she said, "Naturally you'll have to be punished for forgetting my title, but mostly, you'll be punished for having sex with that woman without my knowledge. Into the bedroom." I started to protest, but she yelled, "NOW." and I lost my nerve, rushing into the bedroom ahead of her.

Rachel made me take my uniform off, and then, still in my underwear, she tied me face down, spread-eagled to the bed. Pam had left the ball gag behind, and Rachel used that to silence me. Then she blindfolded me, something she'd never done before. It was quite unnerving not being able to see what she was doing, but it was nothing compared to what happened next. She stuffed something in my ears, cotton wool I think, and then she folded them forward and held them there with tape. To ensure my total sensory deprivation, she pulled something over my head and tightened it. - I later learned it was a leather hood which she’d found in Kerry’s bag - I was in a sort of cocoon, unable to use any of my senses.

She left me alone for a while then. I have no idea whether it was five minutes or five hours. Time seemed to have no meaning as I lay there. I was made aware of her return by the movement of the bed as she sat on one side of it. Then she started fingering my arsehole, my whole being centred on that finger, because there was nothing to distract me. I could feel something smooth pressing against my hole, and invading my body about an inch. Suddenly, it started to vibrate, and it was as though my whole body was vibrating, I could feel and hear nothing but the vibrator as Rachel forced it into me.

My head was filled with a buzzing and I became aware of nothing but the immediate area around the vibrator. Then suddenly, I felt the most excruciating pain I've ever known. It was actually Rachel caning me on the behind. But it felt as though my entire body was being thrashed. She only gave me ten cuts, but the punishment seemed to go on forever. And the pain remained long after she'd ceased her beating. I was left alone again, the vibrator once more consuming my attention.

My legs were released from the bed and tied together, sometime later. Then my hands were treated likewise, though they were secured to the bed above my head. I was turned over, and my legs were pulled down and tied to the bed also. I felt Rachel’s' tongue on my ankle, then slowly, she licked her way up my leg. By the time she reached my prick, I was fully erect, and she wasted no time taking me into her mouth. I could feel no part of my body except my arse hole where the vibrator continued it's insistent throbbing, and my erection, where Rachel was sucking.

At one stage, I felt as if she held my entire body in her mouth, and a part of my brain wondered how her mouth could take all that. Then I felt it, it was as though a volcano was building up inside me, it started at my kidneys, and gradually increased in intensity, until I was sure I would explode if it didn't find a way out soon. I couldn't imagine all that pressure could be squeezed out of one small hole, and I started to panic as it continued to build.

Suddenly, without warning it exploded out of me, I thought my insides were being squeezed through the head of my penis, and I knew the pressure would be too much for Rachel to control. But miraculously, she kept sucking, drawing out what seemed to be my very life force. Despite the total darkness, I could see flashing lights in my head. I wanted to scream out, but my voice was gone. All I could hear was the continual buzzing of the vibrator until suddenly Rachel pulled it out of me and I was left in total silence.

She pulled the hood off immediately, then removed the tape from my ears, uncovered my eyes, and finally, pulled out the gag. Though I was now free to speak, I could think of nothing I wished to say. I just stared at her, the strangest feelings of love and hatred for her swimming through my brain. Without speaking, she walked out, leaving me in darkness once again, as she turned out the light. Soon after, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Over the next week few things changed. I wore the same female clothing under my suit, I was treated as a slave come companion at home, though I must admit, the sex was terrific. At work, with the absence of Kerry, I had more time to mull over my predicament. I tried to come up with a solution to my problem, but it seemed Rachel had thought the whole thing out very carefully. Despite many hours of study, I could see no escape from my subservience.

There was however, one change. I'd noticed over the past week or so, my nipples had become extremely sensitive. And I now sported small breasts. I began to doubt my original theory about the corset. To add to my dilemma, I noticed that my beard was much softer than it used to be. It was now only necessary to shave every two to three days, where I used to shave daily. Then as I prepared to take my lunchtime vitamins, it struck me like a bolt out of the blue. All right, so I'm ridiculously slow in recognising the obvious. But with all that had happened to me in the past few weeks, I defy anyone to consider the possibility that the vitamins his Mistress insists he take, might be female hormones.

I threw the pills away, and that night I confronted Rachel. She was completely calm as she acknowledged the true content of the pills. I began ranting and raving about how she had no right to do something like that to me. Then I refused point blank, to ever take another pill. Rachel continued in her poised manner, which infuriated me even more. "Fine, you don't need to take another pill, the injections will work much quicker anyway. As for rights, I own you now, and I can do anything I wish to your body, as you’ll learn when I punish you later for your outburst."

I felt the usual chill down my spine at her promise of punishment. While they varied in their manner, they always had two things in common, they were painful physically and or mentally, and they robbed me of a little more of my self-esteem. Another thing I'd been considering lately, was the fact that I rarely made a move, without first checking with Rachel. Oh I admit that at work, I was still very much in charge, in fact I was more in control than at any time prior to my enslavement. But at home, I was almost totally dependent on Rachel, a fact that I know she enjoyed thoroughly.

That night in the bedroom, after a relatively mild caning, Rachel sat on the bed next to me. I was once again tied, spread-eagled to the bed, a position she favoured for quick beatings. As she stroked my back and legs idly, she seemed to come to a decision. "You know something Phil?" I couldn't respond, gagged as I was. "I've come to realise not all Kerry’s' ideas were bad. The one about the tattoo for instance, has particular merit. I now know that I am going to be quite content to spend the rest of my life with you, and, whether you like it or not, you are staying with me. So tomorrow night, we're going to one of those tattoo artists in the city, and you're getting your backside done."

I lay awake quite late that night. My mind was so full of thoughts about the day’s revelations; it was impossible to sleep. Analysing the situation I decided, first and foremost, I was quite happy at the prospect of spending the rest of my life with Rachel. I further decided that if that meant a life of slavery, so be it, I knew I would never be able to enjoy normal sex again anyway. The only areas of real concern were the tattoo, and the hormones. I resolved that the following morning I would confront Rachel with my objections, after all, what did I have to lose. Since the following day was Saturday, I delivered breakfast in bed to Rachel, and had mine with her. I broached my feelings about the tattoo and hormones, but she was adamant.

"There's something exciting about imposing my will on you to such an extent, that I can actually force you to change your body. As for the tattoo, if, by some chance, a female may decide she finds you attractive, she'll get one hell of a surprise when she sees your arse won't she? So you may as well accept it, because that's how it's going to be." Then she played her ace. "Tell you what, I'll make you a once and once only offer. There's the door, you are free to leave and never return. I promise to destroy the photographs, and I'm fairly sure your body will revert to normalcy before long. You have five minutes to decide, then the offer is revoked finally and forever." She left me to think.

There really was nothing to consider. As I decided the night before, I'm quite content with my life. I would dearly like to lay down a few rules, but Rachel had made it perfectly clear, it was her way or nothing. No contest, I slipped into my favourite black lace underwear, pulled my jeans and a sweater over them, and prepared for the mornings shopping. Making a mental note to tell Rachel I needed a bigger bra size.

The day passed pretty much like most of the recent Saturdays. We ate, I cleaned, and we had sex. Just like any happily married couple in fact, well, I don't imagine most husbands wear a corset and stockings during sex. Nor are they tied to the bed, (perhaps more should try it, maybe that’s one solution to the divorce rate) but apart from that, it was fairly normal. After dinner, Rachel made good on her promise, and we headed down town to a tattoo shop.

It wasn't the sleazy back alley type of place I always assumed those sort of shops were. It was clean, almost clinical in fact, and there was a choice of artists. Naturally Rachel chose the one female in the place, a fairly pleasant, if hard looking - probably her tattoos created that impression - blonde in her early thirties. We were shown to a cubicle, and only a raised eyebrow gave any indication that the girl was surprised by Rachel’s' request.

She showed us - mainly Rachel - several designs, obviously her sense of the artistic made it difficult for her to simply write the words. Rachel chose a whip, the handle laying across my upper buttocks, the business end running round one cheek and across to the other intertwined through the words, RACHELS (left cheek) SLAVE (right cheek). The actual process was surprisingly painless. The pain and particularly the itching, come later. Belle - the artist - gave us instructions on how to apply dressings etc, and Rachel paid her.

At no stage in the proceedings, did Belle mention my underwear, or our relationship, until the very end as we were leaving. When she asked if it would be possible to come over next week and view the finished work. As Rachel was considering this request, Belle added, "The truth is, I want to know how you managed to develop your relationship with Phil, and I have a proposition you may be interested in." Rachel gave her our number, suggesting she ring during the week when she'd give her an answer.

They left it at that, and we went home. I was tied face down in bed that night. But not before Rachel had sucked me dry as a reward for behaving myself all day. We discussed what Belle’s proposition could be, and Rachel assured me, I wouldn't be getting another Mistress, so I needn't fret. To be honest, the thought had crossed my mind, and I was a little concerned before Rachel gave me her assurances. "You're mine and I like it that way."

It was with more than a little trepidation that I arrived at work on Monday. I knew Kerry would be back and I was worried about her intentions. When I arrived, she wasn't in the outer office, so I walked quickly through to my office, and closed the door. As I settled at my desk, I noticed the large manilla envelope. I opened it slowly, fearing the worst.

I burst out laughing at the contents. They all featured Kerry in various sex acts with several men, none of whom I recognised. She appeared to be a more than willing participant, even though she was tied up in several of them. The final photograph was the most pleasing of all, it featured Kerry’s' shapely behind, on the left cheek, were the letters SL, they were 6" tall, and obviously the work of a home tattooist. There was definitely not the style or hygiene applied, which had been used when my butt was done. On the other cheek in the same size, were the letters UT. She was branded for life and I doubt she was quite as co-operative as I'd been.

As I studied the last photo, she walked into my office. "I see you've looked through the photographs." She said, I noticed a lack of the usual arrogance in her voice. "Yes, quite impressive aren't they, you seem to have had a good time. Close the door, you can tell me all about it." She moved over to the sofa, and sat down gingerly. "I know how you feel." I said standing up and holding up the cushion I'd been sitting on. She started to giggle, which set me off, and we were soon both rolling on the floor in hysterics.

"You show me yours, and I'll show you mine." She giggled, and we both dropped our pants to flash our behinds at each other. If anyone had walked in at that moment, I shudder to think what he or she would have thought. When we settled down she began her tale of woes. It seems she was only beaten once, that was on the following morning. From then on, she spent almost the whole of the next 3 days, in permanent arousal. She estimated she'd had at least 50 but probably nearer 100 orgasms. She'd been screwed in every orifice, often, all at the same time. When no men were available, vibrators took their places until they were capable again.

At meal times she was tied to a chair with one hand free to feed herself. As she did so, they took turns eating her pussy. She was even forced to sleep with a vibrator inside her. And after 3 days of this ultimate torture she was, in her words, 'willing to do anything to stop them.' It was obvious as she spoke that they had managed to break her spirit, and I knew I no longer had anything to fear from her. To tell you the truth, I almost pitied her. She had to spend every Friday night, and all day Saturday, on, what they termed, refresher courses. I wouldn't swap with her for anything.

Belle phoned later that week with a proposition. She wanted Rachel to open a sort of school to teach women how to control their husbands. Rachel discussed it with me before deciding against it. She said she would still help an occasional woman, like Pam, but apart from that, she was happy to keep our relationship between the two of us, and that’s the way it remains today.

THE END

 

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