Slave Exchange

The party that night was like many to which Mistress had taken me over the months, although this one was larger than most and held in a somewhat grander and more secluded country home. As She did whenever possible, Mistress had me undress in the car on the drive so that She could lead me in already completely naked except for my collar. She had explained to me during the first such party that being presented in this manner distinguished me as a true slave without any rights, freedom, or expectations of privacy not just a submissive, who could employ a safeword and depart any time he wished.

As She often did at these parties, Mistress had me attend to Her for the first hour or so, then turned me loose to serve Others. Since Mistress had never given permission for another Domme to play with me, this meant that i would circulate around among the various Guests, serving in entirely non- sexual ways. Mistress would keep a casual eye on me, but generally preferred to chat with Her Domme friends, examine any newly acquired boys, and sometimes wander downstairs to participate in various interesting scenes. On some occasions, Mistress would search for me later in the evening and take me down to the dungeon for a public whipping or some other type of corporal punishment. But generally, She left me to serve, displaying the obedience and submission She had beaten into me since claiming me as Her own the previous year. On this evening, i had fetched a good number of drinks, performed dutifully as both a footstool and ashtray, given several foot massages, served various trays of crudites and smoked salmon, and even at the insistence of the Hostess frolicked in the pool for the enjoyment of the Guests.

After several hours, Mistress motioned for me to come to Her, and i suspected that She was ready for U/us to depart. As trained to do, i approached, knelt before Her on the patio, and kissed Her feet gently, expecting to feel the click of Her leash attaching to my collar. Instead, She leaned down and whispered softly in my ear.

"There will be a meeting in the den in a few minutes. Go there and do as you are told. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," i responded, kissing Her feet again and rising to stand. Intrigued by Mistress's command, i headed immediately inside, crossing carefully among the guests toward the den. As i approached the room, i saw that its door was open and that inside a number of boys all completely naked, of course were kneeling on the thick Persian carpet. Peeking inside the room, i noticed that a tall, blonde Domme was sitting on the edge of a central desk, looking at a clipboard, seemingly oblivious to the males silently lined up beneath Her. Earlier in the evening, i had noticed this Woman engaged in a long, affable conversation with the Hostess and assumed they were good friends. When She looked up and saw me hesitating on the door sill, She gave me quick assessing glance, smiled briefly, and without saying a word pointed to an empty space on the floor where i was to kneel. Knowing exactly what was expected of me, i entered and knelt exactly where the Lady had pointed. Like the other boys in the book-lined room, i knelt there silently, with my eyes lowered to the floor, head bowed deeply, arms crossed in the small of my back, and my legs parted so that my genitals dangled in full view.

Over the course of the next few minutes, several other boys entered the room and were silently directed to kneeling positions by the Domme.. Every time that She adjusted Her pose or wrote something on Her clipboard, i drew in a breath, eager for the meeting to begin. Finally, after rising from the desk and taking a slow headcount (there were some 15 boys now in the room), She walked across the room and closed the door. Turning back to the room, She resumed Her position sitting on the edge of the desk and cleared Her throat.

"My name is Mistress Octavia," She said. "And I am in charge of this evening's slave exchange."

The term slave exchange slapped me like a well aimed cat-o-nine and, as i flushed and began to sweat, i temporarily lost track of what was going on in the room. Although i knew of such practices and even heard Mistress speak of them, She had never shown any interest in participating and, indeed, had said nothing about putting me up for trade this weekend.

"Most of you have been through this before," Mistress Octavia continued, "but for those of you who are new, let Me explain the rules ... which are simple. Each of you is here because your Owner has decided to trade you in for another boy for the weekend. Each of you will be assigned to another Mistress for the next two days; you will serve your new Mistress tonight, all day tomorrow, and during most of the day Sunday. Then, on Sunday evening, you will be returned to your Owner."

Mistress Octavia paused and looked down at Her clipboard before continuing. "The assignment process for the exchange is random. Each participating Mistress has placed Her car keys in a large bowl here on the desk. In just a moment, you will come up here one at a time and without looking draw a key chain from the bowl. Each key chain has the Mistress's license number written on it. If you should draw your Owner's keys, you will put the keys back and redraw another set from the bowl. Does each of you know his Mistress's plate number?"

Hearing a low chorus of "yes, Ma'am's" from the kneeling boys, Mistress Octavia continued. "Alright then, W/we'll begin from my right. Come up one at a time, kneel in front of me and kiss my feet. Then take a set of keys from the bowl, tell me your name and your Mistress's name, and finally the license number of the keys you have drawn. Do you all understand?"

After another low chorus of submissively affirmative answers, Mistress Octavia snapped Her fingers for the boy on Her far right to begin the process. Since i was near the middle of the room, i had a chance to watch several other boys obediently choose the literal keys to their weekend destiny before my turn. When it came, i rose gracefully from my kneeling position, took the several steps necessary to approach Mistress Octavia, knelt lithely at Her feet, and gently lowered my lips to touch the rich black leather of Her boots. With eyes still trained on Her feet, i reached with my left hand into the bowl on the edge of the desk and lifted out a small leather key chain, on which hung two car keys, a remote entry device, and a tag with a license plate number engraved on it.

Reading the tag quickly, i spoke in the soft voice i had been trained to use whenever allowed to speak to my Superiors.

"Mistress Octavia, this boy's name is cullen and he is the property of Mistress Tamara Slade. The license plate he has drawn is HGB 870, Ma'am."

Mistress Octavia noted these facts on Her clipboard then dismissed me. "Thank you, cullen. Return to your place."

After the last boy had chosen a set of keys from the bowl, recited his identification information, and returned to his kneeling position, Mistress Octavia took a moment to peruse the clipboard. Putting the board down and rising from the desk to Her full height, She surveyed the submissive males kneeling around Her feet. Finally, She spoke.

"I certainly hope that I don't have to remind any of you that your behavior this weekend will reflect on your Mistresses and how They have trained you. If you are disobedient, or prideful, or misbehave in any way, you can rest assured that your Owners will hear of it and that any punishment you receive over the course of the weekend will pale in comparison to what you will face when you arrive back home.

"Now, when I dismiss you, I want you to proceed immediately through the back door and out into the parking area. Do not dress or talk to A/anyone on the way out. For those of you who brought bags or clothes, don't worry about getting them; your Owners will gather them. The grounds are secured, so you won't have to worry about being seen by any of the locals; and all of the Dommes participating in the exchange have parked Their cars in the back of the gravel lot, along the rail fence. Find the car that has the license plate that appears on your key ring, unlock it, sit down in the front passenger's seat, and wait for the Woman who owns you for the weekend to collect you. Some of you may have a rather long wait, since your new Mistress may want to stay at the party for a while. But you are to be patient and to wait quietly. Are there any questions?"

After waiting a moment to ensure that each boy understood the directions, Mistress Octavia dismissed us with the command to "serve well." Almost as one, we rose from our kneeling positions and with lowered eyes quickly and quietly exited the den, each holding a key chain. As we made our way through the still crowded party, i noticed that we were watched with considerable interest, some of the Women undoubtedly speculating which of the naked boys held Their car keys.

Exiting through the back door, we crossed the patio, circled the pool, and stepped out into the parking area, the gravel sharply crunching against our feet. Without saying a word to each other, we began to search in the dim light cast by the patio lights for the license plates that matched the key rings we held ... the beeps and flashing lights of remote entry systems indicated when a boy had found the appropriate car. About two-thirds of the way down the line, i found the right car. It was a late model, two door BMW. Black, with tan leather upholstery. After double checking the license number, i unlocked the car with the remote and slipped into the passenger's seat, closing the door behind me. In the night air, the leather was cool against my bare bottom. Placing the key into the ignition, i assumed the submissive position i had been taught to use when Mistress allowed me to sit (head bowed, legs widely splayed, hands open and up-turned resting on my thighs), and waited.

When the last boy had successfully located the proper car, a silence descended on the parking area. In the distance, i could hear the sounds of the party still going on ... talk, occasional Female laughter, muffled pool sounds ... but around the parked cars, there was no sound whatsoever. Then slowly, one by one, the Dommes came to claim Their weekend slaves. Each time there would be faint sound, growing ever louder, of the crunch of gravel under leather boots. The sound of the Women's feet much louder and more purposeful than those of the tentative males who had preceded Them. A car door would open, then close with some authority ... and after a few moments or minutes, the car would start and slowly depart down the driveway, sweeping its headlights across those of us still awaiting our fates. Each time that the measured treads approached the car in which i sat, i would feel my pulse race and i would squeeze my eyes tightly shut, praying for strength.

Finally, it was my turn. This time the slow, authoritative footsteps neither stopped short nor continued past, but approached the driver's door. As the door opened and the inside light dazzled me, i had only a moment to gather a quick impression of the Domme through my down-turned eyes. She was of medium height and slim build; She wore black leather pants that tapered down over black leather boots; Her blouse was long-sleeved and of a breezy, light colored fabric; in Her right hand was a braided, black leather riding crop, which She placed on Her side of the gear shift.

"Hello, boy,"She said, after taking a moment to appraise my build and posture. Her voice was soft and kind; i intuited that She was a Woman who dommed not through intimidation and histrionics, but through confidence and the sheer force of Her will.

"Greetings, Ma'am," i replied using the honorific title i had been trained to use when addressing any Woman other than my Mistress.

She reached over toward my lap, moving my left hand and placing Her hand on my thigh, indicating with a gentle nudge that i was to part my legs further. Her nails were long and wore a deep claret-colored polish; on Her fingers were several intricately carved rings. Her hands indicated that She was perhaps in Her mid-20s, enough younger than i to add an even greater submissive spice to Her calling me "boy."

"This is your first slave exchange, isn't it?"

"Yes, Ma'am, it is."

"I thought so. Because it is, I am going to forgive your impertinence. During an exchange, the Woman you are given to is your Mistress for the weekend. While you are in My control, you are My slave and you will address Me not as 'Ma'am,' but always as 'Mistress'. Is that clear to you, boy?"

"Yes, Mistress," i responded humbly, swallowing hard at my mistake. "This boy meant no disrespect, Mistress, and greatly appreciates Your kindness."

"Just see that it doesn't happen again ... or you will find that my kindness is very limited," She replied. "In order to avoid any confusion, this weekend W/we will refer to your full-time Mistress as your 'Owner'. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"What name has your Owner given you, boy?"

"This boy is named cullen, Mistress."

"Oh, i like that. A soft and submissive name ... and one that fits you well," She said. "Is 'cullen' a name that you had before your Owner claimed you, or did She pick it for you?"

"She picked the name for me, Mistress," i replied softly.

Beside me, i sensed Mistress smiling. "That's appropriate, boy. An Owner should get to name Her slave, just as She would name a dog She collected from the pound. My name is Lisa Collins, should you need to know. But, as I said, I don't expect to hear you address Me as anything except 'Mistress.' Now, cullen, open the glove box and you will find in there a white lace garter belt. Take it out and place it on your right thigh ... about two-thirds of the way up."

A bit taken aback by this, i nevertheless complied immediately, blushing.

"A bit higher. There; that's better. I like for my boys to wear something a little frilly."

Mistress Lisa then started the car, slowly pulling us across the gravel parking area, down the long driveway, and out onto the country road. After some minutes of silence, Mistress spoke, again placing Her hand proprietorially on my left thigh.

"Are you a slave or just a sub, cullen?"

"This boy is a slave, Mistress."

"I see," Mistress replied. "So your Owner truly owns you? She allows you no safewords or limits, and She is free to treat you in any way She desires?"

"Yes, Mistress. This boy has relinquished all rights ... a boy is completely Her property. If he objects to anything She orders, his only choice is to leave Her service."

"Hmmm." i could sense Mistress smiling. "That, then, will be the terms for this weekend, too, cullen. No safewords, no limits. If you refuse anything I command of you, I will return you to your Owner immediately and She will decide your fate. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Tell Me about your relationship with your Owner. How long has She owned you? Does She allow You outside of the house?"

"Mistress Tamara claimed this boy as Her own almost a year ago, Mistress. She collared me and marked me with a small brand of Her initials on my right bottom cheek. W/we have a contract that outlines my status as Her slave and She publicly claimed me during a FemDomme wedding ceremony...."

"cullen," Mistress interrupted sharply.

"Yes, Mistress," i replied meekly, unsure what i had done to offend.

"When I am gracious enough to permit you to use your tongue for speaking and let Me remind you that for a slave speaking is a privilege, not a right you will begin or end each sentence with 'Mistress' ... as a tribute to Me and a reminder of your lowly place. Do I make Myself clear, boy?"

"Yes, Mistress," i stammered, my face red with shame.

"Good. Now, tell Me again properly this time about your relationship with your Owner."

"Yes, Mistress," i began again. "Mistress Tamara claimed this boy about a year ago, Mistress. She placed Her collar on my neck and branded me with Her initials on my right bottom cheek, Mistress. O/our relationship was formalized at a FemDomme wedding ceremony, where i was publicly presented as Her property and She assumed the privileges of ownership, Mistress."

"Much better, cullen," Mistress said. "I have noticed that in addition to your brand, your Owner has pierced your belly button and nipples. Has She marked you in any other way?"

"No, Mistress. Otherwise this boy is unmarked, Mistress ... although my Owner keeps my genitals shaven."

"Does She allow you to work outside of the home, or are you simply a houseboy?"

"She does allow Her boy to work outside of the home, Mistress, but not in his original job."

"Tell Me about that," Mistress Lisa ordered.

"Yes, Mistress. When She claimed me, Mistress, i was a teacher, but She did not want me in a position where i would have any sort of supervisory or evaluative position over Women. She had me resign my teaching post, Mistress, and found me a part-time job in a fetish boutique owned by a Domme friend of Hers."

"What an excellent solution, cullen; your Owner must be a very clever Woman. Do you like the job?"

"Yes, Mistress, i do. i wait on the Domme clients, model subwear, run errands for the boutique's Owner, and don't have to move back and forth between a submissive and a 'normal' persona, Mistress ... i am submissive both at home and at work."

"Are you allowed to keep your pay, cullen?"

"No, Mistress. It goes directly to my Owner, Mistress."

"As it should. Do you handle all of the housework, boy?"

"Yes, Mistress. This boy's Owner is a very busy physician, Ma'am. She has made me responsible for cooking Her meals, keeping the house clean, taking care of Her car, minding the yard, and doing other chores, Mistress."

After a brief pause, Mistress continued Her interrogation. "Are you allowed to have friends or keep in contact with your family?"

"No, Mistress. When my Owner claimed me, i lived in another city, a long way from here, Mistress. She had me sell all of my assets and move here, Mistress. She does not permit me to have any contact with former friends, Mistress, and allows me to visit my family only once a year. The only P/people i am allowed to interact with socially are the Dommes and subs She knows, Mistress."

"Hmmm ... you really are Her's aren't you, cullen?"

"Yes, Mistress."

By now, W/we had progressed back toward the city, driving through well-manicured suburbs. Fortunately the streets were both largely empty at this hour and rather dark, so that my nakedness in the car went unnoticed.

"Does your Owner use you sexually, boy?"

"Yes, Mistress, She does," i replied, blushing noticeably in a way that was not lost on Mistress.

"I like the way you look when you blush, cullen. The color makes you even cuter, and I prefer boys who are demure." Of course, this made me flush even more fully, which i sensed brought a smile to Mistress's face.

"How does your Owner like to use you, cullen? Does She allow you to cum often?"

"No, Mistress. She believes that males should be allowed release only rarely, as a reward for good behavior, Mistress. She uses my mouth mainly, Mistress." Even after years as a submissive and an year as a slave, i still found it difficult to discuss such intimate matters with Dommes.

Mistress seemed to take some delight in my embarrassment and difficulty, pressing me further. "Are you accomplished with your tongue, boy?"

Blushing an even brighter shade, i replied as best i could. "i think so, Mistress; i certainly try my best."

"Well, I suspect that I will have a chance to judge that for Myself before the weekend is over." After a short pause during which i contemplated this thought, Mistress continued. "Does your Owner use you anally, cullen?"

"Only rarely, Mistress," i responded, shifting involuntarily in my seat at the direction Mistress's questions were leading.