Fantasy to Reality - Ch. 04

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A Model in Chains.
8.8k words
4.79
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Part 2 of the 8 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 04/23/2023
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Chapter 4

Is this what it feels like to be a Gorean slave? I doubt my current state even scratched the surface, but I felt so alive and "woman." I did not want to leave; I wanted these emotions that coursed through my body to last forever.

Was this fantasy, or was this real? It felt real. I certainly did not fake the orgasm, nor the yearning in my belly for more. The money was real, and I laughed to myself. Imagine being paid to live out my deepest fantasy.

$800!

And then reality, briefly pushed aside, set in. I looked at the card Master had given me, with 11:00 a.m. handwritten at the top. My parents had nearly died when I pierced my ears and navel, but clearly Master had something else in mind, "elegant modifications" he called them. What did that mean?

I needed to get back to my apartment, to cum, and to call Master and make sure he understood I could not allow certain body mods that would be evident to my parents. Yet, I had to admit, if not for the parentals, I would be willing and more than just a little interested. I turned my back to the street, reached down to my cut-off denims, and was tempted to cum right there on the side walk.

I hurried to the bus stop, before I lost the battle within.

It was nearly 10:30 when I got back to my place, far too early for Teryn to be home. I hoped she was not upset with me. I would treat her to a scrumptious meal with my easily-earned money and make sure she and I were still good.

I love my bathroom cums, the warm spray from the handheld shower head pressed against my pussy, the needles of water pulsating in harmony with my need. I lay in the tub, naked, but collared and cuffed in steel. I checked that they would open before locking them around my neck, ankles, and wrists. I filled the tub with warm water.

11:15 pm. I did not expect Teryn before 1 or 2 a.m., so there was no rush. I took a picture, headless of course, of my masturbating in the tub. I called Master, certain he would still be awake.

"Kajira," he stated matter-of-factly upon answering.

"Yes, Master. Your kajira reports she had a glorious cum." I described how I masturbated, the very act of disclosing something so intimate that I began to juice again. There was a thin, oily slick on the surface of the bath water.

"Send me a picture, immediately."

"Yes, Master," and I sent the one I had just taken.

There was a pause. "You had it ready to go, didn't you, kajira?"

"Yes, Master."

"Tell me what you are feeling right now. Leave nothing out."

"I feel totally at peace and happy, Master. It is like a total release of needs and passions and desires that I have suppressed for years. Do you understand, Master?"

"Of course, kajira. And think how far you have come in only a few days. If I had asked the same thing before, your response would have been, 'I don't know.' Now you know and understand as Gorean slaves understood, that only as a slave can you be truly free."

"Yes, Master, I now understand and yet I am sad."

"Sad? Why is that, kajira?"

"Because, because I am in need." I felt release just telling him, though I am sure he already knew.

"I continue to be amazed that you are a virgin. How is that possible, since you are a simmering slave if ever I have seen one."

My clitty throbbed at his comment. "I just never wanted to hurt my parents. I partially tore my own hymen one day with a cucumber; at least I think I did."

"I'm not surprised," he laughed.

I continued to play with myself, my clitty playing peek-a-boo underwater. "Master, about tomorrow..."

"Yes, slave?"

"The Prix Chic, I mean, what do you have planned for me?"

"That would spoil the surprise slave, and remember, curiosity is not becoming a kajira."

I knew that expression, but still... "Master, as much as I want this job and as much as I enjoy it and you, I cannot allow anything that would be obvious to my parents. They were angry enough with my ears and belly button."

"I understand. What I have planned will not be problematic, but for us to continue, for me to train you, and for you to further understand your own body, you must obey me and trust that I am doing what is best. Do you trust me, Jenn?"

Jenn. Not slave nor kajira. "Yes, I trust you, Master."

"Good. After your appointment, come by the studio. I will clear my afternoon calendar for another shoot, ok?"

"Yes, Master." Visions of hundred dollar bills flashed through my mind, and of a kajira on all fours, posing and exposing on command.

"Now, I need to get back to work. So much good quality today, but also plenty that needs to be discarded. I will see you tomorrow, about noon or soon after."

"Good night,..." He had hung up.

I continued to recline in the tub, but I had lost my desire to cum. My stomach was churning, concerned that I was getting in deeper than I could handle. I could always walk away, good money or not.

It was nearly midnight when I finished speaking with Master, and I was suddenly very tired. I wanted to stay up to talk with Teryn, but I also needed some sleep.

By the time I got to bed it was 12:45 a.m. I lay under my covers, collared and cuffed, my ankles linked by only a few inches of Master's chain. I had already planned tomorrow. I would take the bus to Sunset, leaving Westwood at 8:25. I knew an earring shop in the same vicinity, so I would stop there first.

I never heard Teryn come in. My alarm went off at 7:30. On a Saturday morning, I would normally sleep in until 10, but not today!

It took a moment for me to realize my situation. I knew something was different when I tried to stretch, and my legs would not part. Bending my knees, I unhooked the chain that connected the ankle cuffs, and set it next to me. The clanking of the chain links as they settled on my bed sent chills up and down my spine. I wanted to just lie there, enjoy the metal that bondaged me, but I had miles to go.

I reached onto the night stand and used the key to remove all the steel. I was beginning to understand more and more about myself-without the collar and cuffs, I felt more naked. As soon as I was done with my earrings purchase, I would put them back on, as ordered by Master.

Good thing I put a towel under my ass, because it was quite damp from my juices! Heaven only knows what I was doing in the middle of the night. I smiled in complete bliss.

I took a quick shower, no time for a morning wake-up cum, popped in a slice of bread to toast, some OJ, and then a quick note to Teryn.

Hi Babe,

I hope you had a good night. Missed you, but made $100 on my first shoot. Cash! So my treat later, k? Not sure about today, since they seemed pleased with me and asked me to come back this morning. Miss you, hugzzzzzzzzzzz,

Jenn

Two lies, $100 and 'they.' It couldn't be helped.

I decided on a short skirt, tennies, and a tie-off blouse. I would have worn my strappy sandals, with ties up my calf, but in a short time my ankles would be cuffed. I really needed to do some shopping, now that I was rich! A hoodie for the morning chill.

Sunset on a Saturday morning was as quiet and peaceful as I have ever seen it. A couple of homeless guys going up and down the street searching trash cans for bottles, cans, and cups of McD coffee with a sip or two remaining. That always gave me a pang of sadness. I could have bought them both a good meal, but it was already 10:20 and I didn't want to be late to my Prix appointment.

Don't think I had forgotten about that. It was a dark cloud that I had tried to ignore throughout the night and morning. I had no idea what Master had in store for me... no, that is a lie. I had a good idea and I still did not know how I would react and if I would allow it.

Erika's. If I was into earrings, this would be the place for me. Earrings and bracelets, from the conservative to the extravagant. I typically wore the same 1" silver hoops all the time. Occasionally a pearl stud, even less often a dangle. I think hoops can be sexy, but if they get too big, then trashy and gaudy. They look best on Hispanics, for some reason, and were not that common among my Asian friends.

The racks were stocked with every sized hoop imaginable, in gold and silver. I always liked the way the silver contrasted with my black hair, and now that I was a collared slave (I smiled to myself), silver was the metal of choice. The hoops went from half inch all the way to 5 inch, which would have brushed my shoulder. Master did not specify, so I bought 2" hoops, paying for them in cash, and immediately replacing my smaller hoops. Still sexy, a little more sluttish, but they still looked good on me. I smiled into the mirror.

10:45! The address on the card was about 8 blocks further along Sunset. I could have walked, but I took the bus instead, arriving at 10:55. Perfect.

From the outside, Prix Chic was certainly not a trashy tat parlor. The windows were nicely displayed, with pictures of attractive models and their rings or tats. My heart was beating a little faster. I could not tell if it was fear or excitement. That is a lie. It was fear.

Master had ordered me to arrive in collar and cuffs. I should have put them on at Erika's or on the bus, but that would have been too embarrassing. I walked past the shop a short distance and found a bench. I sat down and cuffed my ankles, then my wrists. The collar snapped shut around my neck, and I felt my pussy lips swell in anticipation.

I entered the shop. To one side, a guy in a chair was being further decorated on the side of his neck by an attractive brunette. She looked up and smiled, asking if she could help me.

"I have an 11:00 appointment. My name is Jennifer."

"Right, take a seat. Joel mentioned you. He is in the back making preparations." She smiled and I took a seat.

Moments later, a guy I assumed to be Joel, came into the front through a swinging door. "Hi, are you Jennifer?"

"Hi, yes," I said, rising, and reaching out to shake his hand. His eyes had done a quick scan of my body, surely noting the collar and ankle cuffs. When we shook hands, the sleeve of my hoodie rose up my arm, and he clearly saw my cuffed wrist.

He held my hand a little longer than a normal handshake, turning and saying, "Follow me, everything is ready."

Behind the swinging door was a brightly lit hallway. I was feeling better about things, fearing this would be a dark and dingy shop. Far from it. Framed posters and pictures hung on the walls. We went near the end of the hall, #5. Entering I was again pleased. The floor was nicely tiled, a salon chair, bright lights, mirrors making the room look larger than it was. A private room for an important client, I smiled to myself.

"You want to put your bag on the chair?" he suggested, pointing to one of three chairs against the side wall. "Then just take a seat."

I did as directed.

"Are you a little nervous?"

"Yes," I replied. No sense in hiding the truth.

"Hey, don't be." He sat on a rolling stool and glided over to me. "You've had some piercings before, unless you did them yourself?"

"No, I went to a shop at the mall."

"Right. Ears and navel. Very nice. Any other piercings I cannot see?"

"No, Sir."

"I love your look. The steel collar and cuffs are beautiful against your tan and skin tone." He smiled and I returned his smile, without comment.

He sat back on his stool, very relaxed. "You in school?"

"Yes, UCLA."

"Oh, nice. A college girl can always use a little extra cash. Over the Edge pays well, I am told."

"Yes, so far, though I only had one shoot last night."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, it was a lot of fun." I guess he was trying to get me to relax, but I had to know. "What are you going to do to me?" There were probably better ways to phrase it, but that is what I said.

He laughed, pleasantly. He rose from his stool, moving to the side. I watched him as he approached a folder, as though confirming what he surely knew. "Your Master called me yesterday before your first shoot and made the appointment. He must have had a good feeling about you and your talents." He turned and smiled again. He had spikes in each ear, a few discrete tats on his left wrist and right forearm.

I did not respond, just lowered my eyes humbly.

"You trust him, right?"

He could only be talking about Master. "Yes, I guess so."

He had moved behind me and slightly tilted back the chair. "You guess so? I have always found him to be trustworthy and a real professional, though I must say, this is the first time I worked on one of his models when she didn't already know our plan."

He still had not told me 'the plan.' Neither had he asked me to remove my blouse or skirt. Had he done that, I might have said, 'No, thanks,' and walked right out.

"I am not totally familiar with Gorean culture, but he explained a little to me yesterday. I assume you are?" He placed my arms along the chair arm rests, still standing behind me, out of my view."

"Yes, I..." The moment I started to respond, metal flaps appeared along the arm rests, trapping my arms to the chair. When I said "I," suddenly a red rubber-like ball was forced into my mouth, straps hanging from the side. My reaction was so slow and I was totally caught by surprise. I tried to scream and wriggle free, but in just seconds, he had strapped the ball gag around the back of my neck and had quickly used the cuffs already on my ankles to clip to rings at the foot of the chair.

"Hey, hey, relax, I know this seems extreme, but your Master suggested this, just in case your trust was not as deep as he hoped."

I continued to pant and struggle, but I was totally immobilized. "Just breathe through your nose, that's right, relax, think of this as your Gorean moment," he smiled. My eyes were wide with fear.

"So, if I understand it correctly, pierced ears are terrifying to Gorean girls. Is that right?" Back to his calm conversational tone, sitting on his rolling chair, not a worry in the world. And I was bound and gagged, and hardly calm. I just stared at him.

"Yes, well, that is what I am told, that earrings are the most degrading of piercings, because they mark the girl as a slave. On the other hand, a septum ring is considered culturally acceptable, and Gorean girls have no problem with such a piercing." He stared at me. I could not deny what he was saying, but this was not Gor. I admit that the thought of a nose ring had occurred to me, but I had rejected it immediately. I could never face my friends and family looking like a freak, or a farm animal.

"Anyway, your Master says that he thinks your niche in modeling could be as a Gorean slave, so he wants a nose ring and a brand for you. And he thought you might not agree willingly, hence the need to restrict your movement. I do quality work, and I wouldn't want it spoiled by a sudden jerk that you might make." A nose ring and a brand! Noooooooooooooo! I started to panic again.

"Hey, now, wait, I haven't finished. Your Master understands your concern, so let me explain. First, while I will be piercing your septum, you will not be getting a bull ring. It will be horseshoe-shaped and I promise you 100% that you can flip it back into your nostrils and no one will notice. I'm not kidding!" And with that, he reached into his nostrils and out popped a dark blue ring, exactly as he described. I had no idea it was there, before he exposed it. I calmed slightly.

"See what I mean, totally hidden. And as for the brand, well, we discussed that, also. The Gorean brand, as I understand, is actually a cursive K that is heated red hot in a fire and pushed against your upper thigh. Sounds nasty, but then a slave is not much more than an animal in the eyes of her owner, right?" He kept asking questions, but I was just staring back, in rapt attention.

"So, yeah, there is no way to have a fire in this shop, without setting off the alarms. I told him he could take you to the fire pits down at Malibu and have a marking ceremony," he smiled, as though I would find this funny.

"He told me that was a good idea, maybe for the future, but for now we agreed to something more discrete. We discussed various options, including a smaller K on the inside of your thigh, or above your pussy, or even high on the back of your neck. None of these would be seen unless you allowed it." I could not believe these options. Never would I have allowed this!

"We decided on a 'brand' that would slowly disappear. Henna. I will add a slightly more reddish coloring, and it will look exactly like it was burned into your thigh. And the best thing, of course, is that it is not permanent. Two weeks and it will be gone, unless of course you have gotten used to it and want to make it permanent." His calming smile.

"I think you approve. You know why?" Again, the pleasant smile. "Because I can smell your musk."

I am sure my eyes widened and for a moment I stopped breathing. I was sure he was right. My pussy was tingling, my clit was at attention. I hadn't realized this until he brought it up. How humiliating, to be juicing like a grapefruit as a result of being bondaged and having something done to me without my total agreement.

"Yes, well, who knows, you might even cum before we finish. Let's get started. I am going to place a strap across your forehead. Any movement could spoil things. Tilt your head up slightly. There. Perfect." I was bound to the head rest. He would do what he planned.

He dabbed both sides of my septum with alcohol, then used a marking pen to place a dot inside each nostril. "I am going to place this slightly further back. You have a small nose and as I said, I want to be sure you can hide it."

I don't know what I expected, I guess some sort of hole punch, but he very quickly placed a metal piece up one nostril, advised me to breathe in, exhale, breathe in, hold my breath, and with a long, sharp needle simply forced it quickly and fairly painlessly through the cartilage of my septum. I had planned on screaming, maybe even fainting, but on a scale of 1 to 10, the pain was no more than a 4 or 5.

I could see the needle poking out both sides of my nose. He then took a silver U-shaped ring, somehow attached it to the left side of the needle, and pulled it through. I grunted in discomfort and my eyes watered, but it was done. He screwed a little ball on the one side of the ring, tightening it, to match the ball on the other side. He dabbed both sides with alcohol, and I could see a small amount of blood on the cotton ball.

"Perfect. You are a brave slave," and he released my bound forehead from the rest. "Do you promise to not scream or yell if I remove the gag?" I nodded my head. There was no point in protesting what had already been done. I flexed my mouth as he released my arms. He brought me a cup of orange juice from his tiny fridge. Only my ankles were still in bondage to the chair.

"Thank you," I rasped.

He brought over a small mirror and showed me the piercing. "Can I touch it?" I asked.

"Sure, but let's wait a little while before I show you how easy it is to hide.

I looked into the mirror. I saw a Gorean kajira look back. Large hoop earrings, collared in steel, and a ring through her nose. Barbaric. Be still my clitty; you have already embarrassed me enough for one morning.

"Ok, now for the henna brand." Joel released my ankles and held my hand as we walked back up the hallway to #2. I was not steady on my feet. I guess it was the backlash from the adrenalin rush.

He had me lie down on a soft bed, much like any doctor's office. "I need you to raise your skirt up as high as possible. You don't want any of the henna on your clothes." I obeyed, modesty furthest from my mind at this point. I wanted to surprise Master, so I was not wearing any panties. I tucked the skirt into my crotch, but one tug was all it would take. I looked into his face and only a smile was reflected. A gentleman from the moment I met him. Relief to be sure, but also did I sense some disappointment within my mind? Good girl quickly accepting bad girl ideas, I mused.