48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 36: Three

There is some discomfort, pain even. I won't have much trouble controlling my orgasm on this occasion. Sure enough, he does not last long before emptying himself inside me. As soon as he can, he pulls out and I collapse to my knees in humiliation, but with just enough presence of mind to dutifully clean him off. He adjusts himself and heads for the door.

"Dress! Return to your quarters immediately." The door opens and closes again.

I lie on the floor and tears come. This is, perhaps, the most humiliating thing that has happened to me so far. Not only have I been brutally and casually used, and not even for pleasure, but to show me my place, available to all Masters, less than a doormat; but even worse than that, I find I have become at least slightly aroused.

As I heave myself up and retrieve my skirt, one small positive occurs to me. He didn't mention a correction; we're supposed to be informed of corrections right away. I guess that feeling the humiliation and the bitterness of slavery was the correction.

After a few more minutes of self-pity, I let myself out of the office and follow the sensations from my collar, back to the Intake Corridor. I am certainly not smiling now, as I check in with Security, but the Chief makes no comment. I complete Evening Rituals as quickly as I can and escape into sleep.

After a night of broken sleep and bad dreams of freedom and slavery, I have to force myself to go through the Morning Rituals. Having done so, though, I find they have a calming effect. In slavery, as in freedom, sometimes you have a bad day and meet shitty people. The routine gets me back to equilibrium.

Today, I am scheduled for physical training. I well know the way to the Gym, and so does my collar. Right on time I reach the Gym where a Trainer is waiting. After some "warm up" stretches, I'm off on a long (virtual) run. It's just what I need and I throw myself into it with a vengeance. Even the Trainer is impressed, I think. After about five or six kilometres, I'm getting into the zone beyond pain and fatigue when the Trainer signals me to slow down and stop.

"We don't want to be wearing you out," he says with a wink.

"Thank you, Sir, I'm in perfect working order."

"I think we'll try something quieter to calm you down."

Walking elegantly in stiletto heels qualifies for calming down time. I'm also balancing his training diary on my head, but he thinks I have an unfair advantage.

"Your hair is so thick, it makes a nest for the book."

"Yes, Sir, a girl has to use whatever advantages she has."

Around mid-day, as far as I can tell, the training regime pauses for a nut bar and energy drink. An older, but still very handsome, woman comes into the studio; a subtle hand gesture from the trainer tells me to go to Position One. There is a short conversation, which I cannot hear, hard as I try. If it is to do with me, I shall learn all I need to know in due course. When she leaves, there is an intensive session of positions: Inspection, Obeisance, Abandon (like One but with the head thrown back), and "The Bow," which is perhaps the most difficult to manage elegantly.

A Guard arrives mid-afternoon to collect me. He has a word with my trainer as I present myself for transport. Evidently, I am going to somewhere new, unknown to my collar. The stilettos are left behind. My destination is the most sumptuous Hair Salon come Beauty Parlour come Spa that could be imagined. Coming towards me, as the cuffs are removed, is a tall and immaculately elegant woman with a Spanish or Italian look about her. I, of course, assume Position One, but I also notice she wears a collar.

"Welcome, Three," she says. "This is the Cosmetic and Beauty Centre. You have been selected to serve your Owner and Master tonight. Our job is to present you as the beautiful slave you are."

My answer is automatic. "Yes, Ma'am, this slave to serve the Master. Thank you, Ma'am."

"Good," she purrs. "These slaves," she gestures towards two kneeling girls, "Nineteen and Seven, will prepare you. Obey them." She smiles and wafts off, to another room.

Nineteen, who appears to be the senior slave, is black and has a North Country accent. "The first step will be to check your shaving and apply depilatory where needed. Please lie down on the bench." It is a triangular padded bench, about waist high, designed for a slave to lie upon with widespread legs, thus allowing access for the cosmeticians. It has no straps or attachments. The girls who are brought here are fully compliant and co-operative.

I lie down as indicated and place my hands behind my head. Nineteen examines my mons and labia, while Seven goes over my armpits. Nineteen takes great care checking the folds of my sex; then, she asks me to turn over so she can check my butt.

"Honey, your shaving is very good," she declares, "just a few stragglers in those hard to reach places. I'll just clean you up with the cut-throat, then a little depilatory." She notes my expression. "Don't be alarmed, my dear, I'm an expert."

My armpits are declared to have passed muster.

While the depilatory does its work, Seven proceeds with manicure and pedicure. Next comes douche and enema, then I am led to a massage table. For the next hour or so, I am treated to a muscle by muscle relaxing massage and defoliant scrub. Well, I know the treat is not so much for me as for the benefit of the ultimate consumer, my Master. A long shower and shampoo follows. Dried, I am rubbed down with a lightly-scented body cream. The last step is hair dressing. My hair has a natural wave, but these clever slaves trim any split ends and shape and crimp the mass until it curls wilder than ever. How much time has passed I have no idea, but it must be hours.

"Like to take a look in the mirror?" asks Nineteen. I nod. I am presented to a full length mirror. The fabulous creature staring back at me seems vaguely familiar, like a photo-shopped, magazine version of myself. One thing I especially notice is that the weeks of intensive physical exercise have tightened up my body immensely. Not that I'm "bulked up," but I have lost quite a bit of flab and obviously have muscles, like an athlete. My breasts are well supported without the need of a bra.

I am directed to a waiting room, given a light meal and then have nothing to do for a period that seems to stretch time to a relativistic degree. The room is carpeted, with a low table but I cannot lie down for fear of disrupting my hair and naturally there is nothing to sit on. This enforced idleness allows all my fears to surface. I'm pretty sure I can curb my tongue, but will my body betray me?

What will my Master demand of me? Will he want to mark me? The two parallel stripes from my caning are still faintly visible. Any slave would be nervous, waiting to meet the man who has ultimate control of her body, for pain or pleasure. I become acutely conscious of all the failings in my oral and anal training. Then it hits me — I'm not a vaginal virgin, so for all this preparation, it must be my anal virginity he wants.

In spite of my initial reaction to anal training, which earned me the worst pain I have ever experienced, I have become accustomed to the nightly procedures with enema and butt plug, even at times enjoyed the stimulus. But what if something goes wrong? What if I can't accommodate the Master? I am starting to lose it. Take a deep breath, girl!

A guard comes at last and takes me up many floors in the lift. In transport mode, of course. We arrive at a spacious landing where we are met by the woman who came to the gym earlier; she gives me a broad smile and directs my guard down a short corridor. At the end are two doors; the guard's card unlocks one, which leads into a large bedroom.

I get the chance to look around while the guard fiddles with my handcuffs. The bed is a large — king sized? Emperor sized? — four-poster, with the covers turned right down. The drapes and canopy are sumptuous, of deep red velvet with gold braid frogging and details. The sacrificial altar. There are cupboards and chests along one wall and a long bench on another with a continuous mirror above. Beside it, a door undoubtedly leads to an ensuite bathroom. Lighting is subdued but soft spotlights play on the bed and also on a spot a metre or so in front, where I am directed to kneel. Though the room is luxurious, there are no personal elements at all. This is a stage for sexual encounters, not Master's bedroom.

The guard leaves me without restraints. Why would I need restraints? I heard the door lock click. Again, there is nothing to do but wait, in Position One, eyes lowered, for the arrival of my Master and to submit to whatever he will do.

My wait is not long, but long enough for the nerves and doubts to return. I try to still them. All you have to do is obey. I wonder if he is the same man who collared me. I can feel a slight expectant trembling come over my shoulders and arms.

At last, I hear again the click of the lock. I keep my position, as still as I can, eyes down, straight ahead. In my peripheral vision, I can see a man, and then, one step behind, a woman. Surely this must be my Owner and Master. He gestures, and the woman approaches me.

It's Julie! Many emotions flash through my head. Firstly relief, because I am sure she will help me, as before, to perform my duty. Second, I am happy that she is with her Master again and apparently in good favour. She is barefoot, as slaves mostly are, and wearing a short tunic. She comes to stand beside me and puts her hand on my head. I notice that she wears handcuffs, both bracelets on the same arm. Is she also moved around in transport mode? Obviously, she is still a slave, restricted by attachments, even though she is not wearing a collar. Her touch helps me to regain my calm, and my confidence in my ability to perform the coming service to my Master.

Julie says, "Three, I want you to look up because I am going to present you to your Owner, our Master. It is his trainers who have been working with you, his Chef who has prepared your Morning and Evening Nourishments, his staff who have maintained you. Do you understand?"

I raise my eyes to hers and give the necessary response. "Yes, Ma'am, I understand. My Owner, my Master. Thank you, Ma'am." At the same time I glimpse the Master from the corner of my eye. Yes! It is the same man who collared me, just a few days ago. I remember his half smile, and feel a shiver go through me with a flush of arousal at the memory.

As she turns towards the Master and announces me, my mind is racing. Should I say anything when she finishes? I decide that silence will best avoid any mistakes. I have lowered my eyes again but I can still visualise him in my mind. I have to admit I am aroused. I can feel my nipples becoming erect and lubrication beginning in my vagina. Wryly, I think that's not going to be the centre of operations tonight!

The Master takes his time to walk around and observe me from every angle. The glimpse I caught of him when I looked up confirms my earlier impression: tall, athletic, fortyish, dark hair with just a little graying around the ears. I wonder what he is thinking and why does he want me, when he already has Julie? Does he keep a whole harem of slavegirls? Obviously, I have been well used by Master Hari, so he doesn't keep us exclusively for himself. I wonder what Julie is thinking? Would she be jealous of another slave?

"I will take this virginity. You may use her as you wish" he says.

I'm up on the bed in the doggy position, resting on my elbows, my rear end elevated. Julie is giving me some last minute tips, and is beginning my arousal, not that that takes very much work. She tells me, what I have already worked out, that Master is going to take my anal virginity. Julie murmurs in my ear telling me what will happen, what she will do and what the Master will do.

She says she is going to do the lubrication and that, most importantly, I must hold the position Master puts me in, that I am permitted to cry or scream if necessary, but it will be better if I can be silent.

I whisper nervously, "Please, Ma'am, I don't know what to do." She is on the bed beside me and grins.

"You don't have to do anything, just go with the flow. It's really not much different from the front or the back."

I gasp with surprise as I feel her fingers stroke along the length of my lips and circle my clit, and gasp again as the sensation spreads throughout my belly and into my breasts. I become more excited, my breath comes in short gasps, and I feel my sex begin to lubricate. The strokes move front and back, with a few taps on my clit hood, then move to my rosebud, taking some of my juices to start the lubrication. I smell a delicate scent as she follows up with lube, pushing it inside my canal. First, one finger goes in and moves around. I gasp some more and cannot keep my hips still. Julie slaps my butt, and with an effort I hold still in the position I was placed in.

She adds more lube and a second finger in my canal. I'm pretty aroused by now and my sphincter softens. She murmurs encouragement and pushes deeper into my canal. The feeling of her moving inside me stimulates the nerves and transfers to my vagina. I can feel that my clit is becoming erect and her tongue slides over it, causing me to buck again. She spanks me and I subside, but with growing anticipation.

She withdraws her fingers, and announces, "Master, your new slave is ready."

I feel a gentle stroke on my back, my ass, and my cunt. It is the Master. I feel him slide his penis up and down my butt crack, and I feel his erection growing stronger. Then, he positions himself at my entrance and pushes in. He goes gently at first, and I worry that he will not be able to enter but then he pushes in more forcefully and I can feel his thickness filling me.

Julie comes to stroke my head and reminds me to push back. It's a maneuver I've been trained to do, that will open me up and let my Master enter. With a few more thrusts, Master is completely inside me. He leans forward and slides his hands over my breasts, fondling and kneading them with such casual skill that I cannot help but cry out, gasp and moan and sink into a pleasure I had not known before.

A spank on my buttock brings me back to attention. I hear his voice as if at a distance, as he gives me an order.

"Three, I want you to eat my other slave's pussy. Use your skills to make her come." He adds, "But don't forget to move yourself for me, it will help bring you your own climax."

Surprised, I lift my head to see Julie give me a wicked grin. This has not been in my training, up til now. She slides around and under my head, tossing the pillows for a better position. She pats my head to begin. I am now fully aroused and have abandoned myself to overpowering sensations. I want to give Julie as much as I am getting myself.

I hardly know what to do, with so many parts moving so many ways. My butt is being filled by Master's cock. My breasts are being stimulated by Master's fingers. My face is in Julie's pussy. But Master is in total control: his rhythm in my canal determines my rhythm in Julie's slit. Her hands are in my hair guiding my tongue and mouth to the places she desires. She is thrusting against my tongue and I extend it as far as I can into her cunt.

Master's cry announces his orgasm; just moments later Julie shudders and lets out a long moaning breath. My orgasm has come seconds before with grunts and cries. I have already begun to lick her clean, but nobody seems to be in a hurry, so I relax and enjoy the afterglow.

Master taps me lightly on the bum and says, "Slave, that was very nice. Now, I'm going to withdraw, so please relax or we will be stuck here all night. I want you to swap ends so you can clean me. My other slave will be busy cleaning you, so keep that end quiet, or she won't be able to do a good job."

In a moment or two, I turn and find Master's cock slowly detumescing before me. I take him in my mouth and suck and lick him clean. There is a slightly musty salty taste under the sweetness of the lubricant which I realise is my own. Meanwhile, Julie is attending to my rosebud which is throbbing and rather sore, but slowly resuming its normal dimensions.

When Master feels clean, he pats my head, to signal enough. He tells me that I have given him a most delightful service. Though I am tender at the rear, I somehow feel proud to have earned his approval. Master declares that we will all spoon for a bit and take a short nap. I am in front of Master, who cups one of my breasts in his hand, and Julie is behind. In moments, we are all asleep.

The door chime wakes us, with a lot of stretching and smiling. Julie climbs out to open the door while I wonder what happens now. I glance at Master who smiles and makes me jump by pinching my bum! Two women, wearing just matching smiles, push a drinks cart into the room. One of them is the lady who directed my guard and me to this room. They must be slaves as well, being naked. Master tells me their names are Anne and Pat. There is a flute of yellow bubbly for each of us. I know that slaves aren't normally permitted alcohol in their diet, so I must look as apprehensive as I feel as Julie passes me one. She explains that Master gets a flute of champagne and that she and I get ginger ale. Anne and Pat laugh and say that theirs is also ginger ale!

I take a cautious sip from the glass and find that it is indeed ginger ale. I feel both relieved and slightly annoyed. I realise the sense of annoyance comes because I have successfully served and pleased my Master, a moment I feel like celebrating to the hilt.

Anne puts me in Transport Mode. I turn and follow her out of the room. In the foyer a guard is waiting for me. The lift opens and Anne says to me, "My dear, you did very well. I can tell you, the Master was very pleased." The guard and I enter the lift and drop down to the lower levels.

I expect to be returned to the basement cells of the Slave Intake Corridor, but when the lift stops it opens into a different corridor. The guard stops by a door. He says, "This is a dormitory for Female Office Slaves. It is after Lights Out, so you will not talk to the other slaves until the morning alarm." He unlocks the handcuffs and opens the door. There is a dim night light, which allows him to guide me to a cot. "The Dorm Leader will instruct you in the morning."

My mind is reeling from this new development. There are ten beds in the dormitory; seven of them are occupied by sleeping, or pretending to be sleeping, figures. At the far end is an opening to what are clearly showers and toilets. Beside the bed is a closet with two drawers at the bottom and there are sheets and a blanket on the bed. I am so excited to be gone from the Intake Corridor, especially since I was the last slave there. I wonder briefly what the guards there will do, but no doubt there are many other security duties to keep them busy. I am dying to take a peek in the closet, but that might not be permitted, so I climb into the bed and luxuriate in the clean sheets and a yielding mattress.

As I wait for sleep, I reflect on the last few whirlwind days. My outburst of grievance earned me a couple of very painful stripes, but it has also shaken up my existence here. I have given and received pleasure, I have been given serious work to do, and my thoughts and opinions have been heard and respected. I reflect that my problems would have been listened to and would have been addressed if I had delivered them more temperately. If I had been able to govern my tongue, and if I had been more conscious of the needs of The Enterprises, ultimately of my Master, I would have dared to ask a question sooner. I might have had the same result without so much pain.