A Maiden Gamble
by Sydney Michelle    © Omphale Press, 2001

Chapter Six

 

Marilyn twisted the keys in her hand as she strode down the dim hall. She locked the door behind her before walking to the table and setting the tray down. She glanced at the lump under the blankets by the back wall, taking in the crumpled baby doll nightie. Her toe prodded Maria's prostrate form. "What are you doing off your leash?"

Maria scrambled out of the blankets, throwing her head down on her hands. "Please, Mistress! Mistress DeeDee left me this way last night!"

Marilyn raised Maria's chin with the toe of her shoe, noting the old tear tracks. "You have been crying, Slave. Why?"

Maria gulped, sniffled. "Because I am a slave. And have been used as a slave."

"Used? By whom?"

"Mistress DeeDee used me last night when she brought the gown."

"You did well to obey. The body of a slave is not her own. But she presumes much. In the future, you are to submit only when I permit it. Do you understand me?"

Maria nodded her head. "Yes, Mistress. Only with your permission."

Marilyn connected Maria's hand cuffs behind her before bringing over two bowls, one containing oatmeal, the other water. "Eat, Slave. You will need your strength to learn to move pleasingly."

Maria looked up, questions in her eyes "With what, Mistress?"

"Use your tongue, Slave. When good behavior earns them, you will be allowed utensils."

Maria lapped at the warm cereal, turning her head to avoid burying her nose in the damp. Her tongue stretched, lapping in clumps of the goo, sucking in water to wash down the mess. Finished, she sat back, clumps of white clinging to her face. Tears began to well in her eyes from her shame.

"Here, here. None of that. Be good and you'll earn privileges quickly. But I won't have puffy eyes." Marilyn knelt to dab at Maria's face, cleaning the remains of breakfast from her. Good. The shame will make him an apt pupil. "Your first lesson will begin shortly. Exercise to control your weight and increase your flexibility. Then dance to teach grace and poise and to entice. Appearance skills, hair, cosmetics, dress. Deportment. Cooking. Performance. And sexual performance. All the skills necessary for a successful pageant entrant. Or a desirable slave."

Marilyn undid Maria's hands, leading her to a low table with a mirror. "Fix your face, slave. Let me see if you can make yourself presentable."

A small makeup kit was on the table, foundation, blush, lipgloss, eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow. Brushes for the powder, the lip gloss and the shadow sat beside the mirror. Maria sat quietly, heart fluttering, trying to remember what to do. Her face in the mirror was mess, tracks of mascara streaming down her face.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"I, I suppose. Shouldn't I clean this off first?"

"Very good. Cotton balls, cold cream, and astringent are in the drawer."

Maria began to strip away the old makeup, amazed as Anton's face re-emerged, albeit surrounded by disheveled curls. Cleansed, she paused waiting for the tingle to subside, looking at the lost identity peering back from the mirror.

"Get on with it, girl. I haven't got all day."

Maria began to apply the foundation, working it down from her cheekbones. When she stopped at the jaw line, Marilyn corrected her. "You don't want a Kabuki face, one shade on your face and your neck something else. Blend it down your throat." Maria continued, trying to apply the colors in the order she remembered. The eyes were impossible, always blinking and refusing to stay put. Finally she quit, looked at the half done face in the mirror, eyes screwing up to cry.

"Now, now, none of that. Not bad for a first effort. Sylvia will instruction you on how to apply your makeup. And the subtleties of color. It will all be ruined when you exercise anyway. Now back to your pallet."

Maria walked back to the pallet, knelt, head bent while Marilyn fastened and locked the leash. Marilyn handed her some damp balls and a swab. "Clean your piercings before I go." Maria shut her eyes, removed an ear stud and cleaned the hole. She worked through the four ear studs, then hesitated at her nose. "Go on, girl."

"But I haven't taken this one out before."

"No time like the present. If you have trouble putting it back in, I'll help."

Maria flared her nostrils, shut her eyes. With some fumbling the stud came out. She winced at the antiseptic sting, then fumbled trying to reinsert the stud, scraping the lining but not finding the hole. Finally she stopped, hands in her lap and wailed, "I can't! I just can't! I feel so, so, helpless!"

Marilyn smiled. Dependency is setting in. He will be no problem. But I need a little talk with DeeDee. "Let me help you, Dear." Marilyn took up the stud, pressed back Maria's nostril. The stud point found the hole, slipped through the septum. A sharp click confirmed the clasp was in place. "That will be a little tender for a few days. Try not to blow your nose too much. Now, just for practice." Marilyn re-clipped the handcuffs before Maria. "Rest until your trainer arrives."

Maria lay upon her pallet, hands pulled up before her, despondent as she felt the cold leash trail over her body. She sniffled, almost sobbed, a lone cold slave in a vast cold hall.

 

§§

 

Irene strode down the hall, swinging the key cord around her fingers, whistling. A little break for some individual training. Miz Costello will be appropriately grateful, always has been. Irene unlocked the door, stepped inside. Cold, definitely cold. Ah well, that should let her exercise well. But I'll need to bring warmups next time.

Irene strode back to the huddled mass lit at the back wall. "Alright, 'cruit. Time to rise and shine! Lets start getting you into shape!"

Irene was astonished to see a robe clad figure emerge from the covers, hands bound before it. The figure immediately knelt placing its head on its hands. "On your feet, 'cruit! This isn't nap time."

"Sorry, Mistress." Maria scrambled to her feet, standing forelonely in the thin robe, head down, barely seeing the tall blonde in ice blue spandex.

"Take off that robe. You can't get good and sweaty in that."

"Sorry, Mistress." Maria undid the robe, letting it fall down to hang on the cuffs.

"Sorry? That describes you perfectly. Get that robe off. Now!" Irene eyes softened as she saw Maria's lip quiver, her fingers fumbling in the sleeves. "Here, let me help you." The robe fell around Maria's ankles, leaving her standing in a bra and panties. "Don't you have any exercise clothes?" Maria just shook her head. "Well, you'll have to get by this morning. I'll bring you something this afternoon."

Irene unlocked the leash then reattached Maria to the center leash. "In case you have forgotten, I am Mistress Irene, your trainer. We will work on flexibility, muscle tone and weight, and generally shaping you up. Twice a day. There will be a lot of stretches, isometrics, running, and aerobics. I will control the pace with this crop. One pop means speed up, two, slow down, three stop. If you don't respond to the sound, I will pop you directly. Do we understand one another?"

Maria nodded. "Repeat it."

"One, speed up; two, slow down; three, stop."

"Very good. Let's start with stretches to warm you up. We don't want a tear to destroy your program." Irene dragged over the blanket. "Here. Lie on this. I'll bring a mat down here this afternoon."

Maria lay on the blanket, bending and stretching to Irene's instructions. "Lie on your side, hand stretched out, fingers pointed. Lift your leg. Higher. Bend the knee. Reach back and pull the foot in. Other side. On your belly, hands out. Arch your head back. Pull your feet up behind you. Point those toes. Touch your head with them. Try harder." Maria reached and stretched in agony, feeling as if every tendon would tear in two. When she could not reach as far as Irene wanted, not bend as much, not complete a body curve, The crop would sting her lightly. Maria wanted to cry, then show this beast she could do whatever she required, then the tears came uncontrollably.

Irene patted Maria on the shoulder. "Rest a minute." She fetched a towel, wiped Maria's face. "Actually, for your first time, you haven't done badly. Keep trying and in a couple of weeks you'll be surprised how much more flexible you are. Whenever you rest, prop a leg against a wall to pull it back. Ten minutes at a time until you can do a split. Work hard for me and Miss Irene Nelson will help you reach courting trim. Now up on your feet."

Maria was started trotting in circles, just inside the full stretch of the lead. Irene cracked the crop each time she passed, urging her to run faster. After a couple of bites on her thigh, Maria did not hesitate to increase her gait until she was running full out, gasping for breath. After ten laps, Irene began slowing her down, bringing her to a slow walk. She noticed the front of Maria's panties and thighs were damp. "Did you wet yourself?"

Maria nodded. "Are you that out of shape?"

"I haven't been this morning, Mistress." Maria's voice was barely above a whisper in her shame.

"You should have said something. Go."

Maria walked slowly, achingly to the bucket, thumbing her panty elastic. She lowered them, standing over the bucket.

"You're not a mare. Squat." The crop cracked.

Maria hopped forward in shock, then lowered her panties further and squatted over the bucket. A dribble dropped into the bucket, but as she strained a small ball dropped from her like an egg. Maria flushed all over, mindful of the stern gaze of her trainer.

"Still shy, huh?"

Maria nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

"I'll bet you enjoyed flashing that before a girlfriend in other circumstances, didn't you?"

Maria thought of how Anton had enjoyed preening before Annie, especially with a good hard on. How much he had enjoyed the scrape of her fingernails in his thatch as she bent to her work, getting him hard and wet before he entered her. She blushed.

"Speak up, Maria. I can't read your mind. You liked women to look at you, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mistress." The dripping completed, Maria stood up.

"Wait. A woman must clean herself. Use toilet paper. And then change your panties." Maria stripped some paper off, reaching between her legs to rub her anus. "Not like that! Don't you know basic hygiene?" Maria looked up, puzzled. "Obviously not. Reach behind. You don't want o draw shit onto your pussy. If you were lucky enough to have one. So act like you do."

Maria bent level, reached behind to wipe at the damp crack., digging slightly into the ring. Still bent over, she wiped her pecker, discarding the soiled paper in the bucket. She turned to face her trainer, eyes downcast in shame. "May I change now, Mistress?"

"Do it." Maria was just able to reach the small stack of clothes, picking up a pair of pale blue panties. She slipped them on facing away, ashamed at her helpless nakedness. "You know you have a nice tush, Maria."

"Thank you, Mistress." Am I to be raped by everyone? Has Mistress Marilyn made me common property?

'Nice long buns. You should be able to high kick above your head before we're done. Men like that you know. They imagine our pussies stretching open to receive them deep inside us. You'll want to master that. Now for stretches on the bar."

Irene unhooked Maria's lead before working her through twining about a three bar rack. Arms snaked around high bars, legs worked under the low bar, and feet before the middle. Maria's eyes streamed from the pain of stretched ligaments, her body arching outward. "Grab and pull. Strength and flexibility." Irene was merciless, having her work into new positions. She had Maria hang on the bars five minutes, circulation in her hands and feet slowly ebbing under pressure. At last she helped Maria down, but she collapsed at the first step, pins and needles pricking her limbs as blood flow returned.

Irene brought her charge a tumbler of water, holding it to her lips as she gratefully drank, swallowing a pill to reduce the swelling. Irene stroked her cheek softly, cooing as Maria's head rested on her knee. "No pain, no gain. The first week's the hardest. Now you rest until your next session. Don't forget to stretch your leg on the wall. It actually helps keep your legs from tightening up."

Irene refastened Maria to the back lead, smoothing the blanket over her trembling form. "What color leotard would you like?" Maria looked up, puzzled. "You need exercise clothes. What's your favorite color?"

"Green, Mistress Irene."

"Fine. Call me KiKi. See you this afternoon. Sweet dreams."

Maria settled into a ball, hands tucked to her chest, imprisoned more by the soreness in her limbs than the leash. She sobbed, racked with shame and pain.

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

"Wake up, cherie. Marilyn says I need to help you with your makeup. You don't want to look like a cheap piece of poontang." Sylvia shook Maria's shoulder to bring her to. "You been crying, cherie?"

Maria nodded, sniffled. "I hurt. I throb. I'm so ashamed."

"Well, don't ever let 'em see it get to you. Let's get you cleaned up and made up. I'll show you a few tricks for doing your eyes. I understand you need it."

Sylvia helped Maria hobble to the table, settled beside her, legs tucked casually under her tail. "First thing is posture. Feet back flat and tucked under your tail. Sit up straight, hands in your lap. Look in the mirror and say to yourself, 'I am beautiful and I am about to reveal that beauty.' Go on, say it."

Maria repeated the words, looking into the mirror. Then she broke down. "It's no use, Mistress! Who are we kidding? I look a mess."

"Cherie, you looked very nice yesterday, before all this sweating and crying. With a little skill, your face will be very nice again. A few ounces out of your face, longer hair, some brush skill, and you will be quite attractive. You're far from hopeless. I want you to repeat that little mantra every time you do your face. I know a woman whose grandmother was a geisha and she said they used to say something like that every time they had their face done. Course we're not going to slather it on nearly as thick. Now let's begin with cleaning your face."

Sylvia talked Maria through the routine, cleansing her face, applying makeup inside out, doing her lashes while the foundation set. The two giggled together when she taught her how to keep her eyes from blinking while applying mascara and liner: mouth open, tongue out. An outlined mouth, a little shadow to define her cheeks and nose, and Maria had to admit her face was passable. Not striking, but passable.

"I'll teach you more dramatic makeup as we go along, multiple eye shadows, choosing colors for different lighting, stage makeup. But just get the basic face down. The rest is detail and practice. How do you feel?"

"Stiff."

Sylvia laughed. "You'll be stiffer before the day is done, I'll bet. Let me help you up."

Sylvia helped Maria back to her pallet. "I would take you off the leash if I could, so you could rest comfortably. You OK?"

Maria nodded. "There's plenty of slack back here. Once it gets warm, I don't notice it much."

"Well rest as best as you can. I'll be back tomorrow to start teaching you how to work with your hair."

Sylvia eased out of the room, turning the lights off behind her. Maria pulled the blanket up under her chin, moved a leg against the stiffness. Don't let 'em see it get to you. And watch for a chance to get away. She dozed off.

 

§§

 

"Wake up, Slave. What do you think this is, rest camp?" Marilyn prodded the lump with her toe.

Maria rolled in the blanket, trying to get into position. During her nap, her joints had begun to cramp from the first workout. "I'm sorry, Mistress. I'll be good."

"We brought you some food. Hands in front."

Maria extended her wrists, lowering her head while DeeDee cuffed them together. Hands forward. At least that's progress. She knelt quietly while Marilyn placed the bowls on the floor, one filled with water, the other containing chili, although with more beans and rice than meat. She looked up at Marilyn, hoping against hope that she would not have to lap like a dog.

"Don't keep us waiting, Slave. I see Sylvia has been at you. Did you pay attention?"

Maria nodded, he tongue full of chili. She swallowed, eyes tearing at the heavy spice. "Yes, Mistress." Her voice cracked and she slurped water to wash away the pepper. "She was very kind."

"Good. I expect you from now on to make an effort to have presentable face and hair. She will teach you how to roll it after you shower."

"Am I to be taken to bathe now, Mistress?"

Marilyn laughed. "Not for a few days yet. Mistress DeeDee will see to that when the time comes. Perhaps a sponge bath here between now and then, like the little bird you are to become."

Maria bent forward, hands around the water dish, sucking in more water, hiding her thoughts. Be patient. They won't bathe me here. That's bound to be the best time to escape.

"Now then, about your behavior. You must not be off your leash like I found you this morning. And you should not have spoken out in the boutique. You had not been told, you may not have been willful, just careless, so the punishment will not be severe. This time. Mistress DeeDee will administer the blows just so you will know the sting of the lash. Don't give me cause to have her administer more severe punishments."

Maria scrambled forward on her wrists and knees as best as her wrist bonds would allow. "Please, Mistress! No! Don't have me whipped! I'm doing my best to please you."

Marilyn moved Maria's head away with the point of her shoe. "Your submission must be instinctive, your mind engaged in finding ways to please your owner. A mild taste of the lash will simply reinforce that. Take her to the bars, Deborah."

"No! Please Mistress, no!"

DeeDee attached a lead to Maria's collar before pulling her to her feet. "Don't fuss, Maria. It will just make Mistress Marilyn punish you more. I'll be as gentle as I can." DeeDee led Maria to the rack, turning back to Marilyn. "Bare backed, Mistress?"

Marilyn nodded. "And buns. I don't won't her clothing torn or you to have to swing too hard for her to feel the sting. Top up, pants down."

DeeDee stretched Maria's hands up and out, tying them spread apart. Maria's ankles were stretched with sash cord toward the corners of the rack, tendons aching from the strain. Her shoulders heaved as she struggled to restrain her sobs. She stiffened at the touch of cool air on her back, shocked almost as if she had been whipped. Her panties barely slid beneath her buns, held up by her distended legs. "Ready?"

Marilyn nodded. "Three lashes with the crop on each bun. And two of the cat on her back. Just enough, Maria, to remind you to anticipate pleasing all your mistresses. And to not want to feel it in earnest. Begin."

Maria stiffened in anticipation of the lash, precisely the wrong move. Whap! The crop bit her right buttock, lightly enough, but the flap stung her haunch. "Relax and accept the lash, Maria. It will go easier." Maria sobbed, more in humiliation than pain, tensing more, looking back over her shoulder, pleading with her eyes for mercy.

Whap! Whap! A quick blow bit each cheek. "Half way home, Maria. Be brave. Don't prompt Mistress Marilyn to order more."

Maria bit her lip as she watched DeeDee flex the crop. How could she? After? Didn't it mean anything to her?

DeeDee looked back at Marilyn, who nodded her chestnut piled curls. "Finish it. Don't leave her in dread."

DeeDee aimed three quick blows, carefully placing them away from the earlier marks. Maria's buns glowed pink from the thrashing. DeeDee laid the crop on the table before stepping up to the quivering form. "I'm sorry, Pussycat, but orders are orders. Now grasp the bars, don't look back, and relax. Think about something else. It hurts more if you're tense. And I won't swing hard. Promise."

Maria wound her fingers around the bar, took a deep breath and hung her head. The beach. Secluded sand with the breakers rolling softly in on an ebb tide. Annie in a black and silver bikini, smiling up at him as he bent down to kiss her.

Blap! "Aah-ah-hg!" The tails stung, covering her back from shoulder blades to hips. Blap! The second blow landed before Maria had time to inhale. "Oh! Oh, oh, oh please, no."

DeeDee knelt beside her, unfastening her feet. "Be still, Pussycat. It's all over now. It will all go away in a few minutes." When she untied her last hand, Maria sagged in DeeDee's arms, sniffling from the pain and humiliation.

Marilyn walked beside DeeDee as she helped Maria to the pallet. "Now you've tasted the lash, you know I can make you regret any decision not to co-operate. Your behavior was at a minimum indiscrete, so you earned that little lesson. I get no pleasure from it, and a serious whipping will set back your training. But I think we both agree that is undesirable. Don't we?"

Maria nodded her head against DeeDee's shoulder.

"I can't hear you, Slave."

DeeDee helped Maria kneel on the pallet. She bent forward, head on her hands. "No, Mistress, I do not want to be whipped. I will try my best to please you."

"And follow instructions."

"And do as you instruct."

"Now then. Mistress Deborah, you presumed too much. She is mine until sold, and her service is mine to give or withhold. You will answer to me.

"Nevertheless you did well to submit to a woman in authority. So you may know, Mistress Deborah has my permission to lie with you once a week. You must be trained to submit and respond to please. Two nights after tonight she will enjoy you. That will be the time for your first bath. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. I am to submit and please Mistress Deborah weekly. I will bathe for her."

"Good. You understand to repeat your instructions. You may survive and thrive after all. Chain her up, Mistress, and we'll let her rest before her afternoon workout."

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

"Wake up. You can't dance asleep."

Maria peered up at the figure looming over her in the dim light. "Who? Where's Mistress KiKi?"

"Who? Never mind. Get up. I've got less than an hour to see if you can move."

Maria scrambled to her knees, sliding the chain leash behind her. She knelt, head bowed, hands on her knees, aware of the nearness of long, fine legs encased in gauzy blue silk and ending in golden slippers. The odor of jasmine and rose attar slowly enveloped her.

"Well? Can you stand? Or were you going to crawl to the middle of the room?"

"As you wish, Mistress." Maria rose creakily to her feet swaying slightly. She blinked, once, twice, as the golden apparition came into focus. She towered over her, golden curls atop her head making her appear even taller before tumbling down over a shoulder down to her navel. Gorgeous orbs swelled behind the gold trimmed royal blue dance bra, their ripeness threatening to spill out of the containing silk before Maria's eyes.

"Call me Miss Rania. Come forward into the light. Let me see what I have to work with."

Maria followed the retreating form under the center light, stumbling as best she could, hobbled by the stiffness and fighting the leash.

"God, you move like a cow. And you are supposed to move with grace and suppleness, as nimble as a gazelle, an object of desire? In another life, maybe."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm so sore. I'll try very hard."

"What's your name?"

"Mistress calls me Maria."

"Common. Like a dairy maid. And you move like one. If you are to dance, you must believe you can entrance, And for that you need a name that inspires you. Let's see. To me, you will be Zonia, like a flower. Perhaps you can at least sway. Put these on."

Two dusty pink mules with two inch heels plopped on the floor before Maria. She looked at them briefly, puzzled, then turned them upright and stepped into them, first right, then left. She stood swaying slightly, tendons stretched by the unfamiliar height. Now she was only five inches shorter than her latest tormentor. Plus all that hair.

Maria turned around at a gesture, quivering while Rania changed out the leashes. She heard her step back, then silence. I wonder if I pass inspection? Again?

"No ass, no waist, no boobs. Just what is supposed to jiggle? Well. Let's see you walk."

Maria walked away, cheeks burning, aware that her appraisal was less than flattering. Maybe I'll just go for a clean-up crew. Then I can get away. She struggled in the unfamiliar heels, first clunking the heels, then changing to tip toe, trying to discover how to walk in heels.

"Pathetic. Still there is a movement in the butt. Come here." Maria walked back, standing with eyes downcast before Rania. "You're new to this aren't you?"

Maria nodded, somehow feeling she had failed, even at something she would not want to do, fearing the sting of the lash would be her fate. "Why the klutziest males think they can be sexy female impersonators is beyond me, but as long as the check clears. Look, you've got to walk before you can dance, move the parts before they move together. Today we work on walking, and posture, and flexibility. An hour a day for a week, and then maybe you can try a simple step or turn. Being a good belly dancer takes years. You've got months. If you really work at it, you'll be able to ripple your belly and revolve your hands without falling on your nose. You'll trim up, but it won't put curves where there aren't any. Do we understand one another?"

Maria stood stunned. I'm to be taught to shimmy and shake on stage. If Marilyn gives me breasts, there'll be something to jiggle. And afterwards? "I will do my best, Mistress Rania. It's what Mistress Marilyn wants."

"Then let's get started. First how you walk in heels. Like this, short stepping so toe and heels hit almost together. Now you."

Rania worked Maria through walking, correcting the pace, teaching her to turn, to shorten her stride, to use a model cross step to induce more hip wiggle. "You are about as pathetic as they come. Still, you have improved even today. Have Marilyn provide a book so you can practice walking with it on your head. A graceful walk, an entrancing dance, any alluring movement, requires a straight spine, movement of legs and arms but not the head. To master an evocative belly dance, head movements must be deliberate, controlled, not slung about like a puppet."

"Are you going to teach me to belly dance?"

"If you can learn. What did you think?"

"I didn't really, Mistress. Maybe ball room or ballet."

"The objective is, as I understand it, to make you suitably attractive and skilled that you might work in a casino. There's not a lot of call for ballet and ball room. It's shimmy and shake, and fantasy fuck that makes you employable. Still, if you work hard and progress fast enough, learning a few dance steps as a woman might be in order. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Mistress. I suppose so."

"That's not very enthusiastic. To have an artistic flair, you really have to want it. You do want it, don't you?"

"I do what Mistress Marilyn wants. I'll do my best."

"That never made a pageant winner, much less a Miss Venezuela. I know. You have to have a hunger. Perhaps this is not for you. I'll have to talk with Marilyn."

Maria panicked, the memory of the lash fresh in her mind. "No, Mistress Rania, please don't! I'll try very hard, really I will!"

"Alright. We'll see how it goes. Now for some limbering exercises. Do them every day."

"Won't you work with me every day?"

"No, Zonia. Three times a week. To correct and extend. Usually it's once a week, unless the client is preparing a routine. You have something for music here?"

"No, Ma'am. I don't think so."

"You'll need something. And costume. When do you get a costume?"

"I don't know. I think I'm getting leotards this afternoon."

"That will have to do. Perhaps a scarf to set the mood until you are in shape. Something to give Zonia the inspiration of sinuous and flowing. I'll speak with Marilyn. Now try this."

Rania showed Zonia the flowing arm movement of the snake, the rippling wave with fingers arched and extended. Once she was satisfied, she moved Zonia on to head rolls, seeking strength and limberness in the neck. And finally she demonstrated shoulder rolls, the move to create undulating movement in the upper torso. "At least five minutes on each every day. Your joints are too stiff right now."

"Shouldn't I learn to shimmy, or grind my hips, Mistress?"

Rania laughed. "Perhaps you are more eager than you realize. Later, once you can walk and control your posture. And a true dancer does not 'grind' her hips. Her girdle shakes, or her hips shimmy. She is not making hamburger. It is much important to move properly, to point the toes, to arch the leg. Then the others will come easily. Now back to walking, as in a pageant, as though you knew you would win."

Maria never knew walking could be so difficult. Don't look down. Don't look directly at where you are going. Head up, always up. Smile for the main audience. If there's a camera, look into the camera. Swing the arms, just so, no further. Back straight. Glide, toe first. Smile, big smile. You are happy to be here, confident, a winner, someone others want to have around them.

"Perhaps you will learn enough. There's never enough time. Marilyn must get you some proper heels, thin, tall. You need experience in how to hold your body. Enough for today, Zonia."

"Thank you, Mistress. I will try, I am just so tired."

"Tired is for losers. How much have you done today?"

"Aerobics, running, hair and makeup lesson, flexibility. And motivation for indiscretion."

"Motivation? How?"

"I was tied and whipped." Maria barely whispered, suddenly aware she had probably said too much, that she would be back on the rack, the cat flailing longer harder.

Rania shrugged. "It is not for me to say. I do not know the circumstances. But a dancer needs positive motivation. I will discuss privileges for progress with Marilyn. And the loss of them if you do not try very hard. Do you understand me, Zonia?"

Maria dropped to her knees, placed her head on Rania's toes. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."

Rania lifted Maria's head by her chin. "Work hard. Earn pride. Perhaps, just perhaps, you can learn the basics before we are through." Mercedes Zorne-Banhoff turned on her heel and left the prostrate Maria in the middle of the room.

 

§§

 

Irene found Maria huddled in the back of the room in her top and panties, just unable to reach the blanket. Her body was chilled from the cool of the room and the sweat of her workout with Mercedes. She looked sympathetically at the huddled mass for a moment, then shook the hip with her toe. "Up and attem, 'cruit. Put these on." Irene dumped a leotard, exercise top, and warm up socks on Maria.

Maria scrambled to her knees. "Sorry, Mistress, but I'm so cold, I went to sleep."

"Well, get in these. Then we'll warm you up. I wan to see progress by the time I'm back." Irene stood over to the table, making a show of searching for the crop, watching Maria fumble with the unfamiliar clothes out of the corner of her eye. She returned to a sitting Maria, desperately pulling on the second legging. "God, you're hopeless. Don't you know what goes on first?" Maria shook her head, face puckering near to tears. "Alright, I'll help you. This time. Strip everything off. Everything. Now the exercise bra. Now the top. Have you gone lately?"

Maria shook her head, definitely beginning to cry. "Well, hop to it. Don't take long."

Maria remembered to squat, trying to relax enough to flow. She was too tense. The harder she tried, the more cramped she got. "Here. Drink this."

Maria looked up. Irene stood beside her, face soft, a tumbler of water in her hand. "Can't have you getting dehydrated." Irene softly rubbed her shoulders and the back of her neck as she drank. The liquid, the soft touch, the kind voice, all helped the flow start into the bucket. "There. Feel better?"

Maria nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Mistress. That was so kind."

"Forget it. Let's get it on. Clean yourself then dress."

Irene ran Maria essentially through the same routine, working most on flexibility. Maria's stretch was less than in the morning. "You haven't been propping your leg, have you?"

"No, Mistress. I've been kept busy."

"But you found time to take a nap. And now you are knotting up. So it hurts more. So now you pay. Stretch. Further." The crop snapped in the air, and Maria stretched until fire ran through her.

Irene ran Maria further, harder. Maria was slower than in the morning, legs tight from the unaccustomed effort. She panted when she was allowed to stop, a stitch doubling up her side. God, you're out of shape. Who said males are the stronger sex? You'll work that tub off before I'm through with you."

Her time on the bars was shorter, although Maria wouldn't have known it. She barely was able to attain position, muscles stiff, tendons shorter. Irene let up just before she began to cry with pain. Irene helped her charge to the mat, letting her rest while she wiped her face with a towel. Another glass of water, enough to help wash out the radicals as the exercise broke down fat, rebuilt muscle. Maria almost whimpered at each little kindness.

Irene had Maria do some knee lifts, recognizing her charge was too exhausted for leg extensions. Five crunch and holds almost brought her to tears. "Alright, 'cruit, that's enough for this afternoon. Back to your pallet. And don't forget your extensions, this time."

Irene unleashed Maria, helped her to the back, made her comfortable with both legs up ninety degrees before attaching the back lead and covering her with the blanket. "Hurt?" Maria nodded. "Good. No pain, no gain. In moderation of course. Count five minutes, then roll your legs to the side and extend one up, then the other. Point your toes from time to time. It helps, believe it or not." Irene patted Maria's cheek, turned out the light as she left.

 

§§

 

The lights sprang up, bringing Maria out of her doze. "Presents, Sweetie!"

Not DeeDee! I couldn't get it up!

"Mistress wants you to look nice, get a shape. So here's some things for you to wear." DeeDee put boxes on the table. "But first, have you cleaned your ears this afternoon."

Maria became aware of the throbbing in her lobes. "No, I forgot."

"With your workouts, you need to be extra careful. Do them while I get these unboxed."

Maria rolled over, became aware of how stiff she was. "Oh!"

"Do you need help?"

"Yes! Please!"

DeeDee gave her an arm, helped her up, steadied her walk, fondled her tush on the way. "God I can hardly wait, but you probably hurt to much to enjoy it, eh?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be any good."

"We'll just have to make the best of it, Sweetie." Maria shuddered. "Something wrong?"

"I just hurt." She sat at the table, reaching a trembling hand for the antiseptic.

"Here. Let me do it." DeeDee swabbed her ears, replacing the studs as tenderly as another person can. "There. All clean. Wouldn't want you catching something." Maria smiled weakly as DeeDee patted her hand. "Now let's get you into your pretty new things."

DeeDee stripped Maria of her workout clothes. She was too tired to be embarrassed by her nudity. "I'll have these back clean in the morning. Here, fresh panties." DeeDee handed here a pair of high cut nylon briefs, light yellow. The fine material felt good sliding on, warmed quickly on her. "A nice gown. Later." She held up a flowing yellow robe and a mid-thigh, mid-arm chemise in the same color. "And to give you that girlish shape." DeeDee held up a Merry Widow, white satin with yellow bows, the slightest hint of a bosom in the underwire. "Here, let me help you into this." She urged Maria to hold up her arms, slipped the corset around her body. "This one has a zipper in back, but there are adjustable laces on the side as you get a waist." Maria's eyes bulged as DeeDee struggled to raise the zipper. "Head back! Tummy in!" The zipper slid up, enclosing Maria in the stiff folds.

"How, how do you, you breathe in this?"

"Gotta lose those pounds, Sweetie. But you'll get used to it."

Never!

"Now a little something from me." DeeDee held out a black velvet ribbon, a small cameo pinned on it. "Just a final touch." She wrapped the ribbon around Maria's neck below the collar, tieing the bow so the cameo nestled in the cup of her throat. She sat back. That looks so sweet on my Sweetie! I hope you like it."

Maria fingered the cameo. Plastic. She smiled wanly. "Thank you."

"You don't sound very pleased."

"It's just I'm so tired. It's been a long, hard day. And you beat me!"

"Sweetie, I had to! I didn't want to. Miz Costello would have whipped you a lot harder! Honest! Believe me, I don't want to hurt you!"

"But I was nice to you, wasn't I?"

"Uh-huh. And I'll be nice to you. Aw, Sweetie, don't hold it against me. If I don't do as Miz Costello says, I won't be able to see you. Take care of you. Now smile for me, Sweetie."

Maria looked DeeDee in the eyes, smiled. Bitch!

"That's my girl. Now look, I even brought you dinner. And a spoon. Now don't tell Miz Costello, she doesn't think you're ready. Let's put on your pretty gown so you can be warm, And get the mat under you so you're off the cold floor."

Dinner was a large, hot, barley vegetable soup and a salad, crackers and water. Maria never knew she could be so grateful for a plastic pronged spoon, a semblance of being human rather than a dog. Being so tired and so laced in, Maria barely finished the meal, but savored each cracker, the crisp saltiness a welcome change from the slop earlier. Finished, she patted DeeDee's hand. "Thank you. I'm sorry I was snippy. You had to do it I suppose." God, I hate myself!

"That's alright. I'll look out for you as best I can. I'll bring you some perfume samples. You're going to be pretty ripe before Miz Costello lets you get a shower."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"Not yet. And it's you stink, I smell. Being exercised hard, you can't help it. Maybe we can set up some sponge baths. Keep you feeling human."

"That would be nice."

"Anything I can do for you before I go home?"

"I ache. All over. Could you? Would you? Rub my legs?"

"Sure. Let's get you bedded down." On the pallet, Maria raised, extended a leg, enjoying the slow kneading of DeeDee's hands. All too soon, it was the other leg, then her buns, then a quick pass over the shoulders. DeeDee bent down and kissed Maria's ear. "Night, night, Sweetie. I'd take you off the leash, But Miz Costello would give us both hell." DeeDee paused in the door, looking back at the lump nestled under the thin blanket. She blew a kiss and cut off the light.

Hearing the door close, Maria sat up. Wait, Bitch. You'll get yours. I will endure. I will go stronger. I will escape. But they'll have to think I'm cooperating. Maria began her neck rolls, the exercise strangely relaxing.

 

§§

 

Music played from somewhere, haunting, undulating music. "On stage, slave!" A shadowy figure pushed her form behind. Maria stumbled onto the platform, silks and chains gracing her head, hips. Bracelets hung on her wrists, bells on her ankles. The weight of a golden necklace, or was it a collar? rested on her throat. The drums beat, she began to undulate, hands making exotic patterns in the air. She moved about in time to the music, toes and fingers pointed, body parts rolling to show her flexibility. She bent back, belly shimming, aware of a bejeweled ring piercing her navel. "Bid, how much am I bid for this lovely morsel?"

Maria awoke, shivering, gown damp with sweat. That's not me! That will never be me!

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Sydney Michelle. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.