tagBDSMA Special Day In The Life Ch. 07

A Special Day In The Life Ch. 07



It's pretty comfy parked like this. I feel lucky to have served those nice two Mistresses.

Sliding my legs out to the side, I'm almost sitting instead of kneeling, half reclining, half leaning up against the wall. Having like a whole foot of chain between my anklets makes me feel like a queen. The simple throw rug under me seems luxurious. I twist my wrists around in my cuffs behind my back, happy they're "The Pretty Ones," which are nice and smooth.

I do wish there was a litter pan nearby. I shift my position and squeeze my legs together hoping a Mistress comes by so I can beg to be "taken for a walk." I gotta pee!

It's busy in this corridor being in a Mistress residential part of the castle. Every now and then a chain of slaves is driven by on their way to various chores. One of the slave drivers will surely pick me up soon. It's like waiting for a bus, except the Guard chooses you. I hope I get the chance to beg soon. I gotta pee!

There are whiplashes and the clattering of chains coming from around the corner of the corridor to my left. Guards are growling orders so it must be a line of girl coming from or going to work. Sure enough, I see a Guard holding a leash come around the corner. Then I see the girls.

They're low slaves. Probably barely trained. The poor girls are in the heavy cast iron manacles. we call those "The Punishment Ones." they're forced to crawl down the hallway, their heavy leash and manacle chains dragging along the floor. The collars they wear fill me with sympathy. I've worn them. Being three inches tall they chafe your collar bone and the bottom of your chin. You can hardly move your head. The shackles rub your wrist and ankle bones raw. I had to crawl like that too years ago. When a "5" girl begs to stand or sit, the answer is almost always "NO!!" and a lash. But we were happy to be out of the training dungeon.

The collars are very heavy for another reason. Since grade 5 girls and below must crawl, the heavy chains are locked to each girl's front collar ring. So each girl has two heavy chains pulling down on the front ring of her collar. The one chain hangs under her, leading to the girl behind. It usually hangs low between your cleavage. It might rub your snatch if the girl behind you falls too far behind and the chain pulls tighter. The other dangles under your chin going to the girl in front of you. To be nice, you stay close to her. Otherwise you will saw the chain into her pussy.

If and when you get to be a grade 6, your collar and shackles are still three inches and thick, but you graduate to polished stainless steel. Those feel much better against your skin, weigh a lot less, and slaves feel like they've accomplished something. "Nice Ones" is what we call those. At least that's what low slaves think.

Memories of being a low slave flood back into my mind. We slaves have grades and are very aware of that, very much like rank in the military. Every time we are used, every time we are trained, we are graded in many different things. Add it all up and average it out and that's our rank.

A new girl is a 0.000. When she first learns to beg to serve and lick a Mistress's feet as soon as she sees a Mistress, she might get zero to ten for a grade just for that. This applies to stuff like "Pain Love" when a slave is graded on how sexy she is under torture, and "Bondage Grace" for how sensuously she poses and moves in restraints. There are lots of tests, some of it very plain;. "Servile Respect," "Housekeeping," "Dancing," "Cooking," and the all important "Oral Skills," just to name a few. Lots.

Every class, every single time a Mistress uses a slave, the girl is graded. A slave might serve five hundred times a year and maybe get four thousand grades! The Clitoris Alliance takes this very seriously. It's all scrupulously recorded. We slaves are very careful what we do too, very careful. Just one wrong facial expression and you can get a zero in "Servile Respect," dragging down your score.

To even get out of training a girl must get past 5.000. I remember a girl who always cried, fought her restraints, never submitted. she was a 1.040 after a whole year in training! She had been carried over from an earlier class to even be in my class.

One day the Mistresses took a chain of us all the way up on the ramparts of the castle wall, my whole class. It was freezing, Oh how the winds howled! They took that girl off of the chain. Two Mistresses held her by her arms while another took off her collar. We were all terribly scared wondering what this meant. The three Dommes picked her up and threw her over the wall!!!! It's a one hundred foot drop to the huge boulders below in the crashing surf. Those boulders have sharp edges. The water is icy cold, full of ice floes.

We heard her wailing and screaming become fainter and fainter as she fell. Then there was just the howling wind.

We learned a lot that day. Every one of us begged very sincerely, very fervently when we got back to the dungeon. We licked and kissed devoutly, knelt prettily, shoulders back, tits thrust out and held high, posed and showed off our restraints like jewelry models every time a Domme even glanced at us.

The girls crawling by me under the whips of their slave drivers must be 5's, newbies. Probably being taken to scrub grease pits in the kitchens or clean litter pans in the cells of higher grade slaves.

I do feel sorry for them but I also think they deserve what they get. If a girl doesn't know enough to thank a Mistress while she's being whipped then she deserves to be whipped harder. I may only be a trained animal but I know how to survive. I'm an 8 and very proud of it too!!!

The Mistress at the end of the chain of crawling girls looks sternly at me as She passes. She sees my pretty shackles. She sees I've got a carpet to kneel on. She probably even sees I've been given a very generous foot of ankle chain and guesses I do not belong with the slaves She's herding. She goes back to whipping the girls in front of Her, ignoring me. I consider begging permission to pee but decide not to chance it and keep quiet. I do NOT want to be added to THAT chain!

It was not long before another chain of slave girls was being driven by. These were different. They wear pretty manacles like me. Even more, some of them are in dazzling silk outfits like belly dancers with bangles, necklaces and even belled anklets! Others are in fabulous rubber corsets and skirts. Another has colorful swirly body paint covering every inch of her. One even has a golden collar and shackles all studded with sapphires! They all have gorgeous hairdos and makeup. "Gosh! They look lovely!" I think. "They must be 9's!!!"

I've never met a 10. I'm not sure they exist. A slave would have to have been be perfect in every way from her very first day. There are myths about 10's in the past. All girls, even Mistresses go quiet when telling the tales of their stunning beauty, their perfect servitude, their legendary grace.

I only know a couple of the girls. Sometimes high slaves can be bitches and don't talk to lower girls. But I see Juanita, Samantha, and Sarah who are nice. I smile at them. They smile back.

The lead Mistress stops and looks at me. I decide to chance it. I bow down placing my forehead on the floor.

"Mistress?" I plead just above a whisper, "may this slave beg to speak please?"

"Granted. What do you want slave?" She replies a bit wearily.

"Slave begs to pee please. This slave has not been walked all day and NEEDS it please Mistress," I whine pathetically.

The Mistress scowls, probably on a tight schedule to deliver the girls, looks around deciding what to do. She locks the leash of the first girl in Her line to a wall ring on the other wall to park the entire line of girls. I admire the girls deeply. Each one stands perfectly, like a model or perhaps a porn star. They ooze sensuality. They radiate sex like waves of heat you might see reflecting off the sand in a desert.

"Very well. Can't have puddles on the floor can we?" She states plainly as she unlocks my leash from my wall ring. "You may stand slave."

"Oh THANK You Mistress! Thank You!" I reply.

Inspired by the chain of slave girls, I unfold from my reclined position gracefully, stand with my right knee flexed slightly, right toes pointed down. I cock my hip to one side and flip my hair back over my shoulder. The Mistress studies me quietly for a moment. I'm not sure why.

She tugs my leash twice gently. "Come. Heel," She commands. As She turns to walk down the hallway, I fall in behind Her on Her left, a step behind. I consciously sway my hips as I walk so the high slaves behind us do not think I'm a low girl. Slave girls do try to impress each other too. We have our pride.

Three doors down the corridor we pass a Mistress's room. It's easy to tell what it is. There's a sign on the door like a coiled whip. That's not for me I know. I've cleaned those though. They're very plush and elegant like in the fanciest restaurants only far more so. The bidet alone is fabulous, usually gold! The "thrones" are real thrones!

The fourth door has an image of a collar and chain on the door. The Mistress leads me in there. It's rather dark, just dreary gray stone walls, a plain room maybe fifteen feet long and eight feet wide. A couple gas lights designed to look like torches flicker on the left. It's smelly too. I wrinkle my nose. There is a line of four litter boxes along the right wall. Each about three feet square, maybe six inches deep. They're full of grains of crushed clay of course. She leads me to the closest one.

"Squat slave. You may pee." She says and I sigh with relief.

"Yes Mistress, THANK YOU Mistress." I say as I step into the square and squat.

While I'm doing my business, The Mistress takes a device off Her belt like a smart phone or something. I'm worried for a second it's a tazer but i quickly see it's not. She scans the very small bar code on my collar. She then gets all my records. She smiles. I wonder why.

"Congratulations slut," She says to me. I'm puzzled. She turns the display toward me.

I've been shown my records many times before. The Clitoris Alliance is very efficient and it helps a slave improve herself to know where she stands... ummm.... kneels.

At the top of the display it just shows...

Slave Name: hotbox,

Original Name: Janet,

Property#: 000-172-358-771

Enslaved: 2005-04-21

Training and Usage Events: 6,574

There's a long list of stuff like i'm a dress size 4, 5' 2" tall, measure 35-22-34, C cup, collar 14.2, wrist cuff 6.3, etc., etc. The Mistress skips past pages showing laser scans of my body. They have every possible measurement of me you can imagine. If custom shoes or gloves or restraints are to be made, they will fit me precisely.

She also scrolls past my medical records showing all my shots, all my exams, every blemish on my body.

Then my grades follow.

As She scrolls down the page I see my embarrassing 6's, like dance is only 6.608. I still think I belly dance very well in manacles but that one Mistress two years ago was drunk. She probably gave me a zero because She couldn't even see me.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The dance cage was pretty, like a gilded bird cage with the bars of a fanciful floral design. There were long dangling chains from the ceilin to my collar and cuffs. Not to restrain me. Just to look pretty. I danced my heart out, swirling and swaying, jingling my decorative chains and belled anklets as i danced. The Mistress chose dumb head-banger heavy rock music! Hard to be seductive to that! Then I think She fell asleep!

You never know if you're being watched on camera or recorded to be judged later. You never know if this is some sort of endurance test. I kept dancing to that ONE old Metallica song for what must have been nine hours until I thought my feet must be bleeding. I kept trying to come up with new thrusts, bumps, and grinds, jingling my chains and belled anklets differently all the time. I still think She must have given me a zero because She slept through it all.

I know most of my grades. Since they're averages they change slowly. But I'm puzzled again. Almost all of my scores look a bit higher. "Servile Respect" was 9.673. A really good score as it was. Now it's 9.821. "Pain Love" was 9.882, now it's 9.936.

Then my eyes get wide. I see a string of 9.994s and even higher! "Gawd!" I think, "Those last two Mistresses must have given me a big bunch of 10s!!! They both may even have scored me a couple times to move my grades THAT much!! 'Housekeeping is a freaking 9.998!!"

The Mistress scrolls down farther to the total at the bottom. My mouth falls open. My eyes bug out.

My grade had been 8.862. Now it's 9.007

My mind races. "OMG! OMG! OMG! i'm a NINE now!!!!!!!!" I think excitedly. I almost faint and fall over in my litter box.

The Mistress grins at me, grabs my shoulder so I don't fall over. Of course She also whips my tits with Her riding crop to make sure I pay attention I guess. I do snap back to focus on Her right away of course.

"Finish slut. Stand. Heel. You belong on my chain now,"

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