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Tracy repeats my words to aspen and aleskia from yesterday.

”Starting today both of you are going to be serviced daily. You don’t need to worry about birth control. You have been under our influence long enough for various drugs to take care of that.

The men who will perform this service for you will vary as will the manner. Most of the staff has been picked for their physical attributes and virility. It is also a privilege accorded to guests.

As female slaves you are naturally sex objects. You are about to discover your true female destiny and the deep sensuality of your body.

Very soon you will move towards tentative enjoyment, not much later full pleasure, and quickly thereafter ecstasy, and then fairly soon since you have no choice, on towards total understanding of feminine arts.

You are going to be taught to reek of sex, every thought and movement geared to it. You are going to learn to be easily aroused and delicately responsive to any stimuli. Sex will never be far from your thoughts. ”

Removing the coffle chain from aspen’s collar, Tracy unlocks the door and motions aspen inside to what is obviously a very small bedroom.

“Hair dryer, brush, makeup, perfume, all you need, are on the dresser by the mirror, aspen. You have an hour to make yourself ready for your day and by the way, do have a good day. Enjoy yourself sweetie!

I expect a perfect report on your behavior. Understand?”


without speaking, aspen nods her head.

Next Ms. Tracy presents the riding crop to aspen’s suddenly startled face.

" Slavegirl, show your respect to your Mistress!

Now!"

Biting back a sob as fresh tears start to flow, aspen kisses the stiff leather-riding crop.

But Tracy does not explain further about what in her day aspen should be ready for.

Pulling the door closed behind her, Tracy quickly leaves aspen alone in the small room.

Mistress Tracy next directs her attention towards the bound and gagged aleskia and this beautiful woman’s fate.

Looking at the now closed-door, aspen realizes that her side of the door has no handle or door knob, only a small keyhole. Her first impression is of sultry heat combined with exotic scents. She tries not to notice the riding crop hanging on a brass wall hook beside the door.

But she does notice that there is no light switch, yet one more reminder she is not in control, even something as simple as a light switch is no longer to be taken for granted. It is just another reminder to make aspen realize what it means to be owned.

As aspen looks around the room she sees a plain wood dresser and a very large mirror lining the wall above it with an enamel bowl and a pitcher of water, adding to the feeling of a fairly impersonal room.

In the mirror, she can see herself clearly: young, healthy, very attractive, her face, framed by her wet, beautiful red hair and of course her collar of chrome around her neck. It is easy to see that she is afraid.

The only other piece of furniture in the room is a standard double bed with a green and yellow floral bedspread of satin weave and two huge pillows covered in matching fabric, plus a profusion of tropical plants at each corner of the bed. What is not standard are the four heavy leather straps with padded cuffs at each corner of the bed. The strap at each corner is neatly laid out and pointing towards the matching strap at the opposite corner of the mattress. The open cuff on each strap screams their obvious intent, one of spread-eagled helplessness.

The walls are painted a light white with a tinge of pink and are otherwise bare except for the riding crop, which hangs on the wall by the door. There are no windows and no chairs, but in the right hand corner from head of the bed is a small shower and toilet.

Moving to the dresser, aspen looks around and finds perfume, a hair dryer, brush, hair spray, a makeup kit, as well as tubes of lubricating gel, condom packets and towels, all of which indicate the true purpose of the room.

Both scared and furious, but with obvious shaking hands, aspen in deference to Ms. Tracy’s order picks up the hair dryer and brush and looks into the mirror, her bare breasts heaving as she first dries and then brushes her dark red hair. Hating the fact that she is not allowed to wear ear rings she adjusts her hair so it falls in smooth waves on either side of her head to rest just above her bare white shoulders,.

After completing her hair and makeup, a highly nervous aspen attempts to hide the leather straps lying on the bed under the mattress. But the bed frame is attached to the mattress and she is unable to conceal them, so she settles for letting them dangle off the four corners of the bed, making them only slightly less obvious than they were since the tropical plants only partially conceal the cuffs.

Next she alternates between pacing the room and sitting on the bed hugging first her left and next her right knee with her bare arms.

However she does not dare to sit at any one place on the bed for too long. Finally she decides that her proper place is on the floor, on her knees.

Proof of her increasing anxiety is evidenced by her look of apprehension and her increasing habit of rubbing her tongue across her lips, followed by biting her lower lip.

There is nothing to do but wait. She has plenty of time to study herself in the mirror, check her appearance, brush her hair, refresh her lipstick and wait.

No doubt aspen will recall and consider her relationship with her Mistress, Ms. Tracy, the woman who has led her to and left her in this room. To be serviced as her Mistress so discretely put it.

Few women could ever forget an experience such as aspen’s first lesson in obedience tp Ms. Tracy months ago.

It was a long, agonizing night of lying on the floor hogtied and horribly gagged, lying face down on the floor, tight ropes around her ankles and wrists pulled tightly together, her body arched painfully backwards. A thick ball gag filling her mouth, distending her jaw, arms and hands having long ago gone numb and her cramped joints causing her ever-increasing pain. She had struggled almost constantly, but the ropes were too strong, the knots too tight, the gag preventing her from begging for release.

And finally, drained, exhausted and her flesh oh, so sensitive, she experienced the ecstasy of finally being released, except for her wrists and an ankle chain, only to be drawn, into Ms. Tracy’s soft, warm bed.

After that she thought she would acquiesce to just about anything that involved untying her, however, the relentless tongue exercises, her face sometimes buried so deeply she could hardly breathe,

With her entire face and hair wet, aspen at first hated those long lesbian nights and the humiliating days of forced subservience to another woman, sensing, tensing, and suddenly feeling the strange power of her tongue affecting the Ms. Tracy merely by probing into her Mistress’s moist slit. Her head forced and held in Ms. Tracy’s crotch as she licked another female’s flesh as the woman directed.

As Ms. Tracy griped the hair at the back of her head, aspen could have sworn that the woman was praying, going by her persistent references to Allah.

But as she learned her place as a slave girl, the alternatives of wasting away in the loneliness of a cage and the intensity of the organisms that Ms. Tracy could induce in aspen’s body have slowly changed her mind.

Will aspen grow to hate Ms. Tracy once again for now consigning her to this new fate?

And what is her fate? At this point aspen can only conjecture.

And just what is Ms. Tracy’s relationship with this whole scene. Is she only a pawn in a greater game? Is she a victim just like aspen?

Ms. Tracy has never allowed aspen to be curious about anything. aspen has never understood why her Mistress suddenly changes from kindness to cruelty and vice verse. But aspen has come to feel certain that there is affection in Ms. Tracy’s eyes, or is only a reflection of her own feelings?

Such thoughts can only surface when aspen is alone.


SirJames