The Mogul Ch. 05

"Thank you dad," said Mason and he ran upstairs to begin planning Ginny's dress with the Georgian for homecoming. Upon leaving the room Mason unknowingly dropped Ginny's essay from the inner pocket of his jacket. His father picked it up, unfolded it, and read it again, as if committing it to memory.

You took me to that room, and I knew I was in trouble. I was scared. You whipped me and I felt subpar. When I went home I spoke to my father. And I asked him the truth about my mother. Strangely, writing this I feel more comfortable than I would telling you this in person. I asked him if my mother was my real mother. I knew she was of the ejactulating sort, as I had walked in on the two early in my childhood. My mother was making a great deal of noise and I was positive my father was hurting her. I saw everything. The liquid, the convulsions, my father standing over her, simply everything.

You might ask, what my parents have to do with how I felt after the whipping with which you endowed me, however I feel they have everything to do with that circumstance. You see, my father assured me I am the child of my mother and he, making me a dominant woman. However, my mother tells a different story. When I was a child she began an affair. She wouldn't tell me if the the affair began before I was born or after. When she spoke she mentioned several women who were of various importance to her and after speaking to her I am unclear if I am indeed a dominant child of either my mother and father or my mother and uncle or the submissive child of my mother and another woman.

You must be wondering, how I could be unclear. It must be obvious, you must think. I grew up during my early childhood feeling quite dominant, arranging situations for play with my friends. My friends' parents always looked at my parents, then at me and assumed I was to be dominant, but that isn't how I was raised. You know my father doesn't believe in Master/slave relations, but he did raise me in a Victorian household, strictly, punishing me harshly. Punishments always followed by doting. I grew to take comfort in the warmth and humiliation of his strap. My only boyfriend, whom I saw in secret, spanked me a bit, and timidly, leaving me to do the job of spanking him. But no one could wield that whip like you did. You cut my flesh, it felt like a poker, until the next slice. It felt like all my childhood trash was oozing out from those cuts and I was liberated. I felt free from what they've been whispering about me behind my back. I never wanted to be anywhere more in my life, your collar around my neck, your whip on my back. I was wrong, yes.

"Yes," Mr. Tearing said to himself. "You do have a rather unique creature.

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Part 5

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Several weeks passed after Mr. Tearing read Ginny's letter. During that time he kept a close watch and an open ear on Ginny and Mason's interactions, knowing full well what Ginny was. Mason seemed oblivious to her circumstance, but meant to be. He treated her as submissive, and as long as that red metal was around her neck, there was no risk of loosing that submission. They trained on the weekends and Ginny studied hard to maintain a 4.0 grade point average. Her father became more comfortable with her relations with Mason and as homecoming was approaching he even threw a belated 18th birthday party for the two of them, as they were both only three days apart in age. Two days before homecoming Mason invited Ginny to his dungeon for a training session. She stood naked save for her new collar and fetters.

"Now that we have fully explored the pleasure cabinet, and I must say your pleasure was most satisfying, I want to explore what is in the punishment cabinet, one item at a time," said Mason, calculatingly as he opened the cabinet. In there sat a surprising group of items, but only four. "Where is the fifth item?" asked Mason.

"It's my nudity, Sir. I am shy. The dress you bought me was beautiful... and these clothes, and I love them. But every time I sit or bend or twist, I'm terrified of my private parts," she whispered 'private parts,' "showing." Mason was delighted at this revelation but showed no sign. In the cabinet was a pair of eight inch heels, a bra with spikes on the inside, meant to be strapped tightly, a dog's butt plug tail, no doubt as part of a public performance. The final item was most unique and Mason pulled it out. It was a toilet seat with room for someone to place their head underneath.

"This is a personal fetish of mine and we will not be using it as punishment. You will learn to play with this and you will learn to like it. It just so happens I am prepared to start this training with you now." He placed the seat on the carpet and instructed Ginny to move herself underneath as he sat upon it after removing his pants. "You ruin the carpet, you will be punished with at least one of those items." Ginny not only missed capturing many of Mason's deposits in her mouth, she quickly pulled herself out from the seat and vomited on the carpet.

"Don't worry, baby doll," he said sadistically. "I know just what to do. Drink this," he said, handing her his bottle of water. He took a sneak peak at the bondage closet and pulled some rope from it as well as the eight inch heels from the punishment closet and instructed her to put them on. He led her, naked, to the front foyer within which was constructed a grand double staircase. Mason tied one ankle to one side, the other to the other.

"You will stand here in those heels, nude, until my father's dinner party tonight. That's in four hours. Your hands are free and you must introduce yourself to the guests graciously. If you must urinate or defecate, you can do it on the floor. Our maid will have to clean up all of you messes today anyway. And one more thing, you must let everyone touch you as they wish." Ginny's feet were already beginning to pinch. Mason didn't have to tell her she wasn't allowed to sit down, but she wanted to. Everyone who came through the door would see her 'private parts' and she already had to urinate. After Mason walked away, leaving her alone to take care of some business, Anastasia walked by.

Ana was very pleased by the condition in which Ginny was displayed. Ginny hated Anastasia for her comment at the dinner table a few weeks ago. Maybe she hated her for being older, mistaking effective passive aggression for sophistication. Ana walked up to Ginny and spoke.

"I heard everything Mason said. I can touch you however I please," she said. Anastasia squeezed Ginny's breast vigorously for the shock value, but once she'd felt its firmness she began squeezing them both for her pleasure. After all, Anastasia was an ejaculating woman, a breed universally bisexual. "I also heard you were to be gracious. It would behoove you to reciprocate, or I'll tell something naughty on you." Ginny slowly and in an inexperienced way began exploring Ana's breast, first over her shirt, which was later unbuttoned. Anastasia tossed her hair back and thrust her chest out. "Squeeze my nipples hard, Ginny." Just hearing her name come out of that girl's lips induced goosebumps all over her body. Ginny did as she was told, squeezing hard and exploring the feel of another woman's breasts for the first time. As Ginny was lost in her explorations Ana's intentions became more catty and her hands wandered down to Ginny's sex, squeezing her full bladder, Ginny wincing at the fear of the inevitable accident. Ana's hand stroked the exterior of Ginny's pussy, moving back and forth, slowly making their way into the interior of Ginny's labia and finally entering her teasingly. Ginny's knees buckled slightly and Anastasia responded with an, "Ah-ah-ah! Knees straight." At that moment Jonathan Tearing walked by.

"What are you doing Ana?" he asked suspiciously, unaware of any monogamous stipulations on Ginny's sexuality.

"We're making friends," she replied and looked at Ginny encouragingly. Mr. Tearing looked at her questioningly.

"Yes. Yes. We're... making friends," said Ginny as she reached under Ana's miniskirt and began to paw at Ana's sex, callowly and smiled nervously. Ana walked away and before the guests arrived an expected puddle of urine had formed under Ginny, rolling it's way to her feet. She tried desperately not to slip, not to fall, not to be caught sitting down but her legs ached, her back trembled and when the first guest arrived, she walked right up to Ginny in her finely tailored gown and asked,

"What have we here?"

"I'm Ginny, I'm Mason's applicant. Pleased to meet you." The woman laughed.

"Pleased to meet you? You can do better than that piss girl. How about a compliment?" the woman asked, turning around provocatively for Ginny's eyes. Ginny thought for a while.

"Your gown is so finely tailored it is as if you are nude," said Ginny. The woman slapped her.

"Why is Mason wasting his time," she said as she walked away. Ginny noticed Mason in the doorway, ankles crossed, arms folded, and a smirk on his face. He was enjoying this, she realized. Another guest entered. It was a man, very handsome. Ginny looked at Mason who zipped his lips and pointed at her. The man walked up to Ginny after giving his coat to the maid. Ginny arched her back, stuck her breasts out, and stood on her toes. She didn't want it to appear as though Mason was 'wasting his time.' The man stepped one step into the urine and shook off his toes. He grabbed her, everywhere, as if testing her nubility. Her breasts, stomach, pussy, hamstrings. He scowled and walked away. None of the guests seemed to like her. It was as if there was a plot to break her confidence and humiliate her in front of Mason, whom she only wanted to please. But how could she? Standing in a puddle of piss? Finally, after all the guests insulted Ginny and went off to dinner Mason untied her.

"Take a quick shower. No primping. Georgian wants to see you." Ginny showered as Mason sat in the bathroom emphasizing the importance of today's training. Expulsion was the most basic of functions, he said. She needed to accept all of him, he said. Internally and through her actions. When Ginny was dry he leashed her and took her naked up the tower stairs. It was late in the evening and Georgian was reading with his monstrously huge and elegantly covered feet on an ottoman. The ottoman was a young boy, no older than a senior in high school, nude and hairless. When Georgian saw Mason and Ginny he told the boy, "Stay put," and stood right up to greet them.

"Ah! If it isn't Mason and his fresh pearl." He turned his attention to Ginny, "I have your homecoming dress almost ready. I just need to adjust the length. Please, take a look." Georgian pulled the dress out, on a hanger and it looked like a pile of bejeweled chains with fabric stitched in. She didn't know what to say. The Georgian noticed her reticence and quickly said, "You must see it on, Pearl. It was soldered, died, and constructed meticulously by me for your body only."

Mason made his exit, saying, "When you have finished, you may have dinner in the kitchen. Make sure you take in some protein." With that Georgian urged her to try it on. He called his boy over and she stood upon his back, terrified it would buckle beneath her but was shocked at the boy's strength. Georgian helped her into the dress and Ginny was able to see its construction. It was made of a single platinum chain up her back, that parted into two shoulder straps, which each parted into triangular shapes over her breasts. The triangular shapes had silk gauze sewn into them, only barely hiding yet still exposing her breasts, and were died to almost perfectly match her naturally red hair.

From her chest bone the triangles snapped together and led to two chains running down the front of her body. The chains snapped shut at every link with a different precious stone of reddish color. She thought about her collar. From the back vertical piece to the front led drooping chains of small round links in alternating metals at three inch intervals and a triangular piece of silk snapped into place to cover her sex, and another to cover her rear. But the fabric hung loosely and any quick gestures would render Ginny nude. She hadn't shared her earlier confession about nudity with The Georgian, and dared not. This dress was clearly the product of Mason's specifications.

As Ginny stood on the boy's back Georgean clipped and snipped the chains that were too long. He helped her off the boy and said, "Ah yes. All that remains is the shoes and adornments." He brought out a pair of shoes wrapped in the same silk from her dress and lined around the seams with the same stones as her dress. He handed her a box. "This is not for me to put on you. Do not put them on yourself. Hear me child?" Ginny opened the box and in lay four circular red cuffs. She closed the box immediately.

"Thank you Georgian," she said wholeheartedly, taking the box and leaving the dress for finishing touches. Homecoming was nearing and although Ginny had already had anal sex with Mason, and played with him quite a bit, her virginity was still intact. Junior year students come of age legally and Junior year homecoming is often crudely referred to as the "Cherry Picking," falling on the Saturday after the last Junior turns eighteen. There is a conscious blindness to this on the part of administration and students seem frenzied all around during this time of year, choosing partners either carefully or desperately, but there is always the sense of urgency to loose one's virginity finally by homecoming.

On the night of the dance Ginny stood in her dress, holding the box from Georgian in her hands, waiting in her room. Mason entered at exactly seven and was holding his own box. In it lay the most intricate collar Ginny had ever seen. As he removed her current collar she felt confused and distressed, but as he put the new one on she felt a sense of calm come over her, as if she was melting into her Master. This sense of calm was increased when he attached the rings to her wrists and ankles.

"Ginny. Do you know what today is?" he asked.

"I... I..." she stuttered.

"Today is our one month anniversary. It is at this point that we must decide whether or not you move in with me and sign a short term contract that will last until graduation. I feel you have met the minimum requirements and would like to proceed with relations with you," he said. "You have until the end of the night to decide."

"Minimum, Sir?"

"Don't be put off my dear. You do require training, but you're the first girl to meet those requirements," said Mason. Ginny's hurt turned into pride as Mason locked the collar around her neck and led her to the mirror. He could tell she was trying to hide how pleased she was with her own reflection, a small smile forming on her lips as her fingers ran along the jagged edges of the stones that ran down her front seam, along the accentuated curvatures of her waist and hips. She dared not touch the silk gauze, but repostured herself proudly, as to examine it closely.

At dinner the seats were prearranged and Ginny and Mason sat with Lilah, amongst others, the only girl who hadn't shunned her for not speaking to her friends that day. Lilah arrived at the dance alone, a bold statement, and seemed to be the life of the table. Mason enjoyed her company openly, while Ginny sat, afraid to move, quietly and deferentially to Mason.

"Well he wanted me to wear this god awful thing... this dress, I guess you'd call it. But it was more like a potato sack," she said in reference to her dumped date. She was corseted in a fully boned strapless leather mini-dress. It was reminiscent of the Corinthian style with an empire waist that pressed her breasts up while cinching her waist dramatically. She must have been corset training for quite some time, thought Ginny, and she couldn't keep her eyes off all aspects of Lilah's torso.

"Why would he want you to wear such a thing?" asked another boy. "Is he afraid of another man stealing you away?"

"I don't think so," replied Mason, leaning forward, looking into Lilah's eyes. "I know Robert. We've had a few conversations at the club. He's very interested in the government's initiatives on breeding. He is afraid of the women having an interest in you, isn't he?" asked Mason.

"Why yes! Exactly!" responded Lilah enthusiastically. "He's terrified of having a submissive child. As if! As if there was something wrong with being submissive. I mean, boys? Where would you all be without us, huh?" she asked emphatically. Everyone at the table raised their glasses, Mason most enthusiastically. Ginny wondered, in her constant comparisons of herself to other submissive women, how could she get away with being so feisty? It was almost enough to take away from Ginny's charms, her beauty, but there was no doubt that when Ginny walked into the dining room, all eyes were on her. Everybody was dressed like Lilah, in your stereotypical BDSM wear, leather vests and dresses, corsets, spanking skirts. But Ginny stood out like royalty amongst commoners. She didn't have to say anything. Everybody at the table attempted to steal glances at her at every opportune moment. She basked in the quiet attention and decided Lilah's personality was no threat whatsoever. Even Mason's interest in her was no threat. After all, she was the one with the antique collar. After some lively conversation she leaned into Mason and whispered into his ear.

"I accept whatever terms you have in your contract. Let's sign it tonight."

"We shall seal the deal tonight, but the contract will be drafted with you present, along with our family's lawyer," replied Mason and he pecked her on the ear.

The dance was a formality for them both, as they were only waiting to get home. Many women asked Mason to dance and this gave Ginny a chance to talk with Lilah. Lilah had black hair, like Anastasia, but instead of wavy, interlocking tresses, Lila's hair was perfectly straight, perfectly silky and she wore bangs that were almost long enough to cover her eyes. She was slender, lean, and walked with grace. She had the air of old money about her and made her more casual appearance seem purposeful next to Ginny's extravagant full body jewelry. Lilah's differences from Ginny were somehow soothing in what was to Ginny a high pressure situation. There they sat, two equally beautiful, complimentary wall flowers. Mason had introduced Lilah, and Ginny was allowed to speak to her again.

"So how's it going with Mason?" asked Lilah.

"It's going good," Ginny responded, restrained, thinking about how much she wanted to be with him, and how little she knew about the lifestyle because of her upbringing. But that was all too personal to share, she thought to herself. Nonetheless her eyes wandered along Lilah's dress. Lilah noticed.

"Do you like my dress?" she asked. "It's vintage."

"I can see that," said Ginny. "I was admiring the... boning."

"Yes, it's very structured. I like that. I like structure," Lilah sighed. "Now if only I could find a man who could give me the right structure I'd be set. But they all say I'm too 'intimidating' or 'loud' or 'obnoxious.'"

"I don't think those things about you," Ginny consoled. "You've always been really kind to me." Ginny thought about her talk with Mason regarding jealousy. She thought about his interest in Lilah at the dinner table. She thought about how confusingly attractive Lilah suddenly was. "And I don't think Mason thinks those things about you," she added. Lilah looked at her briefly and changed the subject.

"Don't tell me your outfit was custom made. Just don't. I am too jealous already," said Lilah.

"Well, yes it was. I had to wait weeks. The shoes too," and Ginny pointed one of her toes in Lilah's direction at the precise moment Mason returned from a dance with a blond.