Janine's Journey

She was also sure that the wardrobe selection they wanted her to use would give her little chance to hide the slim waist.

She would have to figure something out so that her colleagues did not notice too much of this, however that would be possible. She put the thoughts in the back of her mind for now, and went back in to start the working day.

Tuesday was a replica of Monday. At the time indicated in her calendar, she got a text from George. He picked her up outside the office, and drove without speaking or explaining what was going to happen.

Of course, she was equally worried about what the next thing they had devised for her was.

They went to the same area of town. Something that did not do a lot to calm her down.

She did draw a sigh of relief, when they entered a Hairdressing Saloon.

It looked almost normal: Had a sign outside, a window with large pictures of models with different hairdo's and a bright interior with normal hairdressing chairs in a row opposite some mirrors on one side.

She did feel her heart skip a beat, when she noticed the women there had the same amount of tattoo's and goth clothing as the woman in the shop the day before.

They were expected, and one of the women came forward and shook hands with George -- without giving her a second look.

"So, this is the bitch, we have been talking about?"

Again, her heart moved up in her throat.

"Yes. This is the one, and I want it done exactly as we have talked about!"

"Of course. She'll be ready in an hour. Then you can come back and fetch her. You! Go sit down in that chair."

At the last words she had turned and pointed to one of the chairs. She moved over there and sat down. No leather straps or restraints. Just a normal hairdresser chair.

She did feel almost as restrained as yesterday. She just followed orders, and submitted to whatever they had decided for her.

George left, and the woman and her helper came over, swung a cover over the top of her body, pushed a lever and let the back of the chair move down.

They washed her hair gently and in the same way she had been used to before all this.

After a light rubbing with a towel, they moved her upright again, and the woman who had been talking to George began to cut.

It took a little while before she realized that the long, curly locks, she was so proud of, now ended in a pile on the floor -- and that she was getting a fairly short bop.

It was not a crew cut, but a 'shape-cut' where the hair was very short on the bottom, and then somewhat longer on the top.

It was too late to protest, and she would probably not have done so anyway, had she known what was going to happen anyway.

The hairdo left her face and ears free. She was used to have a 'frame' of curls round her head, but now there was none of that.

She thought it was the kind of hairdo 'working' girls had -- and she was definitely not pleased.

George picked her up just when the woman had finished. Perfect timing.

"Hello again. We've just finished. How do you like it?"

"It's just as I had envisioned it -- perfect! Thank you!"

"You're most welcome. Get up, bitch. Time to go."

The woman had not spoken one word to her during the whole process, but now ordered her. She began to feel that everyone had the right to order her about, and was a little surprised that she meekly accepted the fact.

He led her to the car, and they drove off.

After a short while, he spoke. "I have been dreaming of this for a while. I am very pleased that you have now gotten a haircut that suits you. Now I will always be able to see your whole face, and you will not be able to hide behind your curls. I can hardly wait to have the first blowjob - I'm going to enjoy the view, you know!"

"Yes, Master." She just answered without offering any more comments., Realizing that he was right and had a point in what he was saying.

"You know it makes you look a little like a common prostitute. They always seem to have such practical hairdos. Just like the one you have now gotten."

As if to underline his words, they were driving down a street, where the women stood almost side by side at the curb. All in tight and revealing clothing -- and all with almost the same hairdo as she had now gotten.

It was sure 'practical' for the purpose, they were preparing her for.

George went on to explain that it was still long enough on top to get a good grip, and it would now be much easier to put a gag on her -- and that the gag would look so much better, when she was wearing it.

She was not quite sure she shared his enthusiasm for this 'improvement', but could definitely see his points.

Back at work they all gave her long looks. Even her boss. She explained the change by saying that she needed to try something new, and hoped that would be enough to satisfy their curiosity. Her best friend was full of admiration at the 'courage' she had shown in changing her looks so radically.

Again, she took several trips to the toilet to look at herself.

In the evening, George had her demonstrate the usefulness of her new hairdo by first having her kneel and give him a Blow Job. She had never realized how much her hair had been 'in the way', and how often either he or she had to lift her curls up, while she had to tilt her head.

Now it was 'straight on' and she felt very exposed. George had even turned one of their reading lamps directed at his crotch.

It was like she was in a public spotlight, while she did her best to satisfy him.

He had her walk round with a ball gag for the rest of the evening. Every time, she passed a mirror, she could 'admire the way the strap visible went around her head.' As he said with a grin.

Wednesday she was quite excited about the 'shopping' entry in her calendar.

As opposed to the other days, she thought that 'shopping' at least gave her some kind of information - and that it could hardly be another unpleasant surprise.

Besides, she was longing to have something to fill all the empty hangers in her wardrobe -- and more items to choose from, even though she knew that they would probably be within the rules that had been set for her.

George picked her up around lunch time in the usual manner, but this time he drove her to a much more exclusive part of town.

She was quite happy to see that the streets were full of well-lit shops advertising well-known brands, and no prostitutes on the corners.

He took her to a small, but elegant boutique, where they were obviously just as expected as they had been the two previous days.

None of the women here were visibly tattooed. They looked elegant, and emitted a whiff of expensive perfume.

They were led into a large, private room with lots of mirrors and comfortable furniture.

On some of the many tables, piles of clothing were stacked up. price tags dangling down everywhere.

George sat down, and told her to undress. At first she was a little concerned that any of the shop attendants would come in, but tried to avoid the thought. After all: This was a private room, so they probably had it to themselves until they were finished.

She did not feel quite comfortable seeing her naked body reflected everywhere she looked.

George had pointed to the first pile, which was only skirts.

She tried one after the other -- and walked back and forth in front of him -- turned on his commands, and then slipped out of each item again. On his directions she put the item either in an approved or an unapproved pile on an empty table. Some he discarded already when she lifted them up and held them against her body, some he approved at this point, but most of them she had to put on and do the 'catwalk' for him before he decided if it was ok or not.

Some of them she had to come close, bend over as he tried how easy a skirt was to lift up over her butt. Checking if the fit and design was loose enough for quick access.

Then they went on to the tops. Again, he discarded some quickly -- without giving any reasons, as well as he approved some on sight.

He quite obviously preferred blouses that were transparent enough to show her nips, and had Velcro instead of buttons in front. They would be easy to open. Just pull the two sides and the Velcro would release leaving her upper body exposed.

A few 'wrap-around' models were also approved, but only after he had had her put them on with one of the approved skirts, and tried to pull the two sides apart. If that worked quickly and without any resistance, he would approve it.

Finally, a few blouses with an elastic border round the shoulders. Here he tried how easy it was to grab the edge and -- with a quick pull -- drag the upper edge out and under her breasts.

They went on to underwear, which made her very happy. She had not had any bra's or panties since her training had started (except the few emergency ones -- for her period), so she was rather excited when she saw the pile of lace lying on the table. She soon got rather discouraged again though.

The panties, he approved of were either bottomless or had a slit in the crotch, so when she moved her legs apart, they would spilt leaving her free and exposed.

Anything not leaving her openings free -- or accessible without any effort -- was discarded.

The bra's were the same. The approved ones had almost no cup or quarter cups. The most 'decent' ones had half cups. Leaving most of her alveoli exposed anyway.

None of the ones in her approved stack had full sized cups and any model that did not leave her nips exposed were discarded.

She had always seen bra's as items of clothing that were decent, shaped, lifted and 'protected' her breasts and nipples.

The selection, she was left with now did form and lift -- but certainly not protect. In fact, they presented her breasts and nipples like on a shelf -- and divided them slightly making the nips point away out and away from the center of her body.

The selected bra's and panties were just to frame and enhance her feminine attributes and present her in the best possible light -- for use and pleasure.

The last items were a number of stockings -- with garter belts to match. As she was trying on the first set, and before she could react, George had lifted the curtain separating them from the shop aside and called upon an employee.

A woman quickly appeared. She gave Janine a professional look as she was standing there in a half cup, white bra, silk stockings and garter belt. Then her look turned to something between disgust and surprise as she noticed all the whip marks from the weekend still quite visible on her body.

George was quite cold and business-like: "I have a question."

"Yes," the woman answered hesitantly. Her eyes still stuck on Janine's body.

"The garter belt and the other models you have laid out for us. They fit perfectly now, but can they be tightened to a smaller waistline?"

The woman came up to Janine, put a finger under the garter belt. "It seems to fit her perfectly now?"

"Yes, but in a very short time, she will have a considerable smaller waistline -- will they still fit?"

Janine thought that her measuring chart had probably been the basis for the selection of all the stuff, she had tried so far.

Then remembered the leather belt -- and the way it had already compressed and changed her shape slightly. George certainly meant business. She would be forced to wear the belt, it would be tighter and tighter each day, and her body would adopt to the shaping.

George ran his hand down the side of her body and then let his fingers follow one of the welts. The woman's eyes following his hand.

"She's not behaved herself, so she had had to be punished." He said in way of explaining.

The woman got a grip on herself and looked down at the pile of garter belts. "They are all more or less this model," she said. Then demonstrated in mid-air how the belt's circumference could be reduced to almost nothing by the way of the Velcro that keep the horizontal part together and also how the vertical, laced straps for the stocking holders could move freely along the horizontal part.

Looking at the demonstration, Janine hoped that her waist would not end up being that small after they had finished with her.

"I see. Thank you, Miss."

The woman hurried out. Giving Janine one last, long look as she disappeared behind the curtain.

She could not read her face and wondered if it was excitement or disgust, it expressed.

It was probably not part of her everyday experience to see a whipped body in one of her dressing rooms. Janine was sure though, that it held some kind of fascination for the employee.

They finished with the underwear, George assembled the approved garments on the table and told her to get dressed again.

Coming out of the dressing room, she was quite aware that the whole staff was looking at her -- more or less discrete. The first woman had obviously told them what she had seen. Janine blushed.

George explained what piles they had decided on and what they had discarded.

He ended by paying and instructing the woman to deliver it to their home address in the evening.

On the way back in the car, she mused over the fact that George had never shown a lot of interest in her wardrobe. It had mostly been her, that had shown him something prior to going out, and asked his approval. Now he had been the sole decider, what she was going to wear in the future.

He had been amazingly decisive and concrete in his choices, but then the 'frame' within which, her wardrobe was defined, was pretty simple.

After they had had their usual dinner. Her on the floor beside him - with her little table - all the clothes arrived. Almost as if it had been timed.

George sent her to the bedroom, where she unpacked and arranged her 'new look' in her closet.

He helped her carry the many boxes upstairs, and told her just to leave the empty packaging outside the door. He would remove it later. Then he went downstairs to work.

She had been so busy running up and down with the crates and boxes that she had not really had time to look around in their bedroom.

Now she stopped cold as she saw something new: On the wall facing the bed, where they had had a modern painting, there was now a square, velvet covered panel. On it -- in a very neat and orderly manner hung - whips, floggers, canes, wound ropes and chains. All the instruments of her submission on full display.

She went to the panel, let her fingers slide over the braided, long bullwhip that was wound in a neat circle and had its own hook on the panel. She felt the hard leather -- and then caressed the flogger. She spent quite some time feeling, touching and caressing the items on the panel, and sensed the effect it had on her. Getting short of breath, feeling her heartbeat in her nips, and the moisture between her legs.

She had to pull herself together to turn away and concentrate on the unpacking.

Half way through, she thought that her new wardrobe was not so much clothes as items to enhance and display her body. From the easy access skirts and blouses over the bra's that lifted, parted and presented her breast -- and to the panties, who's only function was to frame her openings and make them more inviting.

The garter belt was just another item to underline her waist and frame both her openings. She was in slavery, John and George took all major decisions regarding her body and looks. They had even 'Mastered' her hairlessness and new haircut -- and she remembered George's promise to have here waist reduced.

She could pick any item or combination of items from her wardrobe and get the same result: A body dressed for pleasure -- and with the easiest possible access.

She felt horny again.

Fortunately, George did something about it, so when she fell asleep in her dog basket, she was content after several orgasms -- and had fresh welts on the front of her legs.

She was not allowed to try any of her new underwear Thursday morning, but she did get to wear a new and very elegant, plaited skirt with a wide and close-fitting part round her waist. The plaiting started about her hip bone and then went out. She also got to wear a reasonably bulky blouse. In a materiel that only showed her tits if they began to harden, which she hoped they would not too much or too often during the day.

She did a few turns in front of the mirror in their hall, and was very satisfied with what she saw.

Gave George a quick kiss -- and ventured out in to the world.

At work she also checked herself thoroughly in the car's rear mirror, gave the basket boys a smile and a wave as she walked past the fence accompanied by their usual whistles and shouts.

Of course, she went straight to the office toilet -- and did yet another check, before going into the kitchen for morning coffee and Smalltalk.

She got a lot of questions about her 'shopping tour', and a lot of positive comments to her new attire. As well as her usual share of hungry male looks.

Carefully and diplomatically answering these questions, she managed eventually to excuse herself and slip into her own office.

During the day, even Bernard the boss, remarked that he liked her new style -- a lot.

His hungry look told her that his remark stemmed from a combination of thinking that she would be able to sell more and better as the clients would probably look more on her than on the place, she was showing them - and his own desires.

In the evening -- at home -- it was as usual: naked, cuffs, collar, belt, enema, plug -- and then kneeling beside George for most of the evening as he had an extensive report he had to finish for a client.

She was left in peace till bedtime. Just following him around on her leash, when he had to go somewhere in the house.

Before turning in, he found it a good idea to 'test' few of the 'instruments' on the wall panel in the bedroom. Resulting in more fresh stripes and welts. This time on the top and bottom of her breasts.

He was tired -- so she just had her do a blow Job before he turned over and went to sleep - leaving her to find some rest in her dog basket.

Janine's Journey

by o_girl ©

Chapter twelve

Blow Jobs...

She fell asleep while worrying about the next day, Thursday.

The other 'noted' days in her calendar had had a tiny fraction of information under 'Subject'.

Of course, it had been more or rather less informative and correct as she thought back.

Tomorrow just had a red 'occupied' bar starting just after lunch till closing time -- no note!

She dared to ask to be allowed to speak when they woke up. Trying to camouflage her actual question by asking what he would prefer her to wear.

It was a valid and relevant question, as nothing had been said about it, and no clothes had been laid out for her.

He evaded the question by answering that he did not care, and that as her whole wardrobe was approved. From now on, she could wear what she liked unless he had laid out clothes for her in advance -- or told her otherwise.

He was back to his old lack of interest as to what she wore. Except that now he had the overall decision over her looks and clothing.

Strangely enough she felt grateful for this little 'freedom' in her slavery.

A slavery that seemed to close more and more around her and give her less and less control over herself every day.

She did not dare ask directly what they were going to do later, as she had a notion it would produce no answer -- and on top of that a promise for a punishment later for being too nosy.

They did all their morning rituals in silence, and she got no more information about the afternoon.

Again, she had problems concentrating at work, and the clock again moved very, very slowly.