Denise

Miss Clearmont came on the phone again. "You will get a call in the next two days or so. Make sure that you're in to receive it or there will be serious consequences." The contact broke with a click and I was left with no thought of rest. I had to speak to Kathy. Probably only she could help me. I found her number in the address book and rang it. It rang several times before it was picked up. It was not Kathy but Pete that answered.

"Mistress Kathy's residence." He said.

"Is Kathy there please?" I begged.

"I'm sorry but she isn't here at the moment, can I take a message for you."

"When will she be back?" I asked.

"I think in a couple of days. She told me that she had urgent business in Canada and would be back maybe Friday or Saturday." He replied.

"Have you a contact number for her?" I asked.

"Afraid not. If she rings I can pass a message on."

"It's very urgent, please tell her to ring Denise."

I put down the phone with a sigh of frustration. Two days, no three because today was Wednesday. God, what if Miss Clearmont rang first? Shit, shit and double shit, what was I going to do? I started to pace the room without even realising that I was doing it. My head whirled with schemes from the improbable to the suicidal. Kathy seemed my only hope; somehow I had to contact her. But I didn't know her friends or any others that knew her except Pete and the vile Miss Clearmont. I decided to have a shower. I could wash Miss Clearmont out of my skin, dress in fresh unsoiled clothes and think. I desperately needed to gather my thoughts and recover enough from my panic in order to decide on a plan of action. I stripped off the dress, shoes and panties and dropped them in the waste disposal chute with the great feeling that I was shedding the last terrible couple of days. Then I had my steaming hot shower. It was wonderful. I decided that my first move was to get new locks on the doors and windows. Then I could relax a little; at least at home I would be safe. The steaming hot shower was like a refuge of sanity. I felt myself calming down as I luxuriated in the powerful stream of hot water. Tenderly I bathed the scratches and sore places on by abused body and rubbed scented oil onto the hurts. At last I was finished and ready to dress. When I went to my wardrobe I got an appalling shock. All my clothes were gone. The rails were bare of clothes. A lonely pair of open handcuffs dangled from the rail. I ran to the dresser. In the top drawer I found my summer wear and underclothes were also gone, in their place was a rubber bag. When I picked up the bag I realised that it was not a bag at all but a rubber mask. It had no eyeholes and just a zipped opening for the mouth and tiny breathing holes for the nose. Inside it were a dress and an envelope. The dress was made of Spandex and of the most revealing sort. When I let it hang from my hands it seemed small enough to fit a fashion doll. As it unrolled, a pair of red lace hold-up stockings dropped to the floor. The note said:

No knickers allowed. Your lover expects a sexy little bitch and not an office frump. Greta added the mask just in case you don't think that you are going to make it on time!

God, they had been through my whole apartment. I had put my only clothes and shoes in the chute and had nothing to wear. What other surprises had they in store?

I phoned Burt the doorman and found out that, that morning a telephone repairman had been in the apartment. He sounded worried that something had been stolen but I told him that I had noticed that a piece of furniture had been moved. I decided to go through the whole apartment. My shoes were gone and two new pairs had been substituted. One pair was a pair of red stilettos, the heels must have been five or six inches and with platforms of another couple of inches. The other pair was a pair of even higher platform shoes that had laces for the legs that were so long that they would go to the knees. They were lurid pinks and yellows. A small note was attached.

Surprise your lover! Personally I like the red shoes but even a cunt slave should have some choice as to the shoes that she gets fucked in.

Both pairs fitted me but the heels were so high that I could only wobble. The kitchen seemed to be clear of their attentions, as was the spare bedroom. The bathroom was also clear of changes. I felt in a panic. Where else had they been?

I decided to phone my secretary at work and check on the call from the office. She told me that a new client had been in the office and requested me by name. My heart sank as she told me that it was a Miss Clearmont, who had come in with a friend, as she was so distressed. What kind of business was it I asked. It was a case of blackmail of course. Miss Clearmont had seemed so distressed and her friend had had to support her as they left. Miss Clearmont had left a number to call and would I be so kind as to call her. The number was the same one as on the visit card. Putting the phone back on the hook I sat stunned; they had even been in the office. I considered calling Jake Darrel, my boss, but the thought of explaining in detail the fact that I was being blackmailed sexually would cost me too much emotional energy. I took a couple of aspirins and lay on the sofa. My life was crumbling around me and the one person who could help was in Canada.

I lay in the semi-dark and tried to sleep but I simply could not. I decided to watch some TV. I flipped through the channels but only found the usual late night dross. After about ten minutes of clicking the channel button on the remote I decided to watch a video. I pulled out my favourite film and stuck it in the VCR. Instead of the film there was another video. I stared with disbelief. There was Miss Clearmont dressed in a nurse's uniform. She looked severe and dangerous. She strutted through a reconstruction of a hospital ward in perilously high heels whilst a naked man followed behind her with a whip on a tray ready for her use. I watched with a kind of horrified fascination as she came to a girl kneeling on a steel table. Miss Clearmont ordered the girl to lie on the table and then fixed down with shackles, her head hung down off the edge of the rough surface. She then took the whip from the slave and whipped the girl over the tits as she stood with her sex in the slave's face. It seemed more for effect than too actually hurt. The girl's tongue flickered in and out of Miss Clearmont's cunt just as mine had only yesterday. Then she ordered the slave to fuck the girl. While his prick entered the girl struggled and twisted as Miss Clearmont lashed her. I could not stand any more and took the video out of the machine. I looked through the other video film boxes. All but one other was empty.

I placed the other video in the machine with dread and started it. This time there was an older woman lying on a bed with pink satin sheets. She was in her late fifties and had the most enormous breasts that I had ever seen. A small ring pierced each nipple. Her crotch appeared to be clean-shaven but the knickers hid her bulging pussy. She woke up and got dressed. I had to watch to find out if this was Greta, Miss Clearmont's friend who had recorded on my answering machine. In fact I already knew the answer but had to find out for sure. The woman slowly dressed in a tight rubber slip-on dress. It was so tight that she had to roll it on from the bottom up. Her breasts struggled to stay inside the dress revealing a huge cleavage. When she had put on a pair of pink high heels the camera followed her to the living room. There on the wall was another copy of the giant photo that I had on my bedroom ceiling but framed and hung like a work of art. The doorbell rang and a young girl came into the room. The woman told the girl to strip and inspected her fully with her hands. With a slap on the thighs the slave's legs were spread. Almost brutally one hand investigated the girl's sex and slipped in. The woman in the pink dress kissed the girl on the mouth as she played with and manipulated the girl's pussy. The other hand twisted the slave's breasts and nipples. Finally she was finished with the investigation and ordered the girl to follow her Mistress to the punishment room. With her slave in the room the Mistress selected a dildo and asked the slave if she would like to be fucked with it. The girl then called her "Mistress Greta". I turned off the tape and sat alone in the dark.

This was worse than any nightmare that I had ever had. I had never imagined that my accidental meeting with Kathy would bring so much trouble. I had treated her training sessions of Pete as some sort of a game but now the game was serious I no longer felt like playing. In fact it did not seem like a game any more. I thought of the photo that Miss Clearmont had asked me for and wondered what to do. I rang Kathy's number again even though it was two in the morning, all I got was the answering machine. Sleep was a long time coming.

VI

The morning brought no fresh ideas. I was simply too scared to take any action. I lay naked on my sofa for more than an hour before getting up enough courage to go out. I pulled on the clothes that Miss Clearmont had left me. With an effort I decided that I would not wear the hold-ups but would go out and buy some new clothes. There was a general store just round the corner that I never normally shopped in so I decided to go there and at least get a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I tottered out of my block, luckily not meeting anyone that I knew who might wonder at the way I was dressed. The store was open so I bought some cheap clothes and a pair of cheap sports shoes. At the front of the store was a display of instant print cameras. I stood for several minutes before I decided not to buy one; Miss Clearmont was not going to force me. I went back to my apartment and locked myself in. The trip out had been so traumatic that I had to lean on the locked door for a few moments to recover.

In my living room the green flashing light of my answering machine blinked to show that someone had called. With my stomach fluttering I pressed the play button. Miss Clearmont's voice rang with tones of disapproval.

"No photo and no sex slut at home, as she was instructed! Come to my place now or face my anger. You have one hour to get there. Make sure that you are suitably dressed. If you think that you are going to be late you should bring the mask that Greta so kindly gave you."

The message had a time stamp of only ten minutes ago so I had fifty minutes to get there. I sought the visit card for another five minutes before I found it. I was in such a state that I did not think of anything but getting there on time. I had lost all resistance so soon after deciding to rebel! I raced to the street before I realised that I had my sports shoes on instead of the high heels that had been left for me. Up I went again, grabbed the red stilettos, and ran to the street. I hailed a cab. The driver was reluctant to let me in until I had proved that I had enough cash. I made him race across town by offering a hundred dollar bill as a tip, and made it with moments to spare. Once out of the taxi I frantically changed shoes and looked at the house that my nemesis lived in. It was small but detached. A low wall surrounded the property and trees grew in the well-clipped garden. I walked up the drive noting the familiar blue Oldsmobile with blacked out windows parked by the steps to the front door. I had the right house. I rang the bell and waited.

A man I recognised from the video that I had watched the night before opened the door. He closed the door behind me and silently led me to a door. With a neutral voice he told me to enter. I opened the door into a small sitting room with a huge leather easy chair set behind a big low desk. Sitting in one of the chairs was Miss Clearmont. She was wearing an over tight red dress and had a pair of red high-heeled shoes on her feet. Red lace gloves that were cut to allow her long red nails to peep through the ends of the fingers covered her hands. I noted that she had repaired the broken nail from last night. She counted on her fingers as she spoke.

"Not at home when I called. You were late by five minutes. Photo? I thought not. At least you are properly dressed. But it's all very well you wearing those clothes, but I see no make-up. "

"I had no time, I had to get something to eat." I lied.

"There was plenty of food in your apartment. Now I can add lying to the list. In future I will be addressed as "Miss Clearmont". If you are this rude again I shall give you a thrashing that you will not forget." She answered.

She stood up and walked to stand right in front of me. Then she unzipped the fastener down the front of her dress to allow it to fall to the floor. She was naked except for her shoes and the rings piercing her engorged nipples. Her breasts swung as she leaned forward and planted a kiss on my mouth. For a moment her tongue tasted my lips. Then she returned to her chair. From a drawer she pulled a pair of handcuffs. With a smile she offered them to me. I was about to put them on when Miss Clearmont motioned me to fix my hands behind my back. I fumbled for a moment and then clicked them over my wrists and waited for more. I noticed one of her hands slip between her thighs and briefly rub her crotch. She motioned me to turn around so that I was facing the door. I felt my skin prickle with expectation. The soft carpet muffled Miss Clearmont's steps and I shuddered as she slid a hand down my back, raking me with her fingernails as she did so. I moved my hands slightly and the cuffs tightened by themselves. There was a pause for a moment and then I felt my ankles being chained together. I looked down to see a pair of leather cuffs with a length of chain between.

"You are a splendid sex toy my dear." She said. "If you are fully obedient I may let you serve my cunt."

Miss Clearmont was admiring me. She stalked round me occasionally touching breast or crotch with light fingers as though taking delight in a newly acquired piece of sculpture that had taken much effort to procure.

"Well, well aren't you just a pretty piece of ass. I would like a naked slave though, you'd better get used to it."

With that she opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a knife. I flinched a little as she approached.

"Don't worry yet about the knife." She said hoarsely.

She slid the knife between my breasts and cut the dress with a slow downward stroke. For a moment I felt the tip catch in my pubic hair but it cut it's way out and the dress fell to the floor with a flutter.

Once again she walked round me. She touched my breasts with the flat of the knife as if to test the effect of the cold steel on my flesh. Then she placed it on the desk and reached into the drawer.

"Though I like a struggle sometimes, today you are going to accept the gag without a fight." She said. "In fact I would like to hear you speak first! Then the gag can go in."

She stood waiting as I tried to think what it was that Miss Clearmont would most like to hear.

"Please gag me Mistress Clearmont. I would love to serve you."

My fazed mind ran out of imagination. I stood dumb for a moment because I was not sure if she wanted more.

"Would you like to be trained for my sexual pleasure or would you like to become a toy?" She said.

"I would like..." What a choice. I had no idea what she meant. The choice seemed meaningless. Then I had visions of her giving me to Greta if I said 'Toy' so I continued "to be for your pleasure only."

"That's really sweet my little bitch, but I am going to have to share you. But the sentiment is nice."

With that Miss Clearmont fixed in the gag that held my mouth open. It stretched my jaw but allowed my tongue freedom of movement.

"Now let me tell you a little story." She said. "It's all about a wilful little prim cunt that does not do as she is told. First she breaks her generous new Mistress's nail. Then she does not take the picture that she is asked to. As if that was not bad enough she is late and lies as to the reason why. After all this she begs to serve her Mistress and to be her only slave. I'm sorry but this story may not have a happy ending. Because of her wilful and bad behaviour the prim little slave bitch is sent for training to an expert in sexual pain. Did you watch the film that we left in your flat in which Greta was the star?"

I shook my head.

"Oh dear, she will be so disappointed. Greta thinks that it is one of her best. On the other hand it means that you still don't know Greta's little secret do you? I love the climax of the film where Greta uses her spurs to ride the little slave. She loves to twist little obstinate bitches like you, but I promise to ask her to leave no marks at the moment. After all we may need you for a bit more photography yet. Let me see now. You have two weeks before you have to go to your office. That means that you might be released. If you are you will be back to beg for more punishment. You won't escape though because we can't have you disappearing can we? But you're going to learn a few useful things in the next week."

With that she went to the door and opened it. There was Greta. Dressed in a similar latex dress to the one on the film, her breasts wobbled as she crossed the floor in her high heels. She was a couple of inches shorter than me but looked strong and well muscled.

Miss Clearmont turned to Greta and said. "You can have the little bitch for a couple of hours today while I'm busy and then I'll lend her to you for next week."

Greta ran her hands over me and I shuddered. Then she pressed her hands on my shoulders to bring me to my knees. With a stilettoed toe she pushed my knees apart and then pushed me backwards. I fell before catching myself on my hands. I was kneeling backwards. Because my hands were cuffed I could not move unless I was to fall to the floor.

Greta looked at my pussy and said. "She is not fully naked, may I?"

"Of course my dear, strip it, fuck it, stop it up, make it come, fill it, and train it. Just don't damage it permanently." Said my Mistress.

With that Miss Clearmont took a lead from the drawer in her desk. The chain ran to a point and then split. At the end of each chain was a clip. These she fastened to my nipples. As she did so she tightened a little screw on each.

"I would not recommend that you try to pull free little slave, it might hurt, but it would hurt less than the punishment for disobedience.

Miss Clearmont passed the handle of the leash to Greta. With a smile she pulled gently on the chain. I struggled to my feet. My nipples were pulled forward. The small screws that Miss Clearmont had tightened bit in to my flesh a little and made me stumble forwards until I stood a few inches from my new Mistress. I could smell the cigarette smoke on her breath as her tongue slid out to touch my lips. My mouth was still wide open from the gag and she turned her head to the side a little and closed lips with me. I could taste her as she invaded my mouth and felt my stomach heave a little. Then she pulled a little more and I was forced to press her lips with mine. Her tongue explored my whole mouth and almost felt as though it was slipping down my throat. Then she pulled back.

"She's not a very responsive slave is she?" said Greta to Miss Clearmont.

"That's true." Replied Miss Clearmont. "But we can make her eager to kiss can't we, I'm sure that we are experienced enough to make her beg for a kiss from us rather than a kiss from the whip."

At that moment the phone rang. Miss Clearmont turned to the desk to pick it up and Greta started for the door with a small tug on the leash. My nipples were beginning to swell with the discomfort of being pulled and already felt more sensitive. With a wave of the hand Miss Clearmont stopped Greta as though she wanted her to hear something.