A Special Day In The Life Ch. 08byhotbox©
Afternoon at the slave spa
I'm walking on air as I heel the Mistress back to Her chain of girls. "I'm a 9! I'm a 9!" keeps running through my mind. My ankle chain seems to sound particularly jolly as I practically prance in my twelve inch steps. I play with my wrist cuffs behind my back just to hear the cute small clinks of that chain. I hold my head high, making my hair flow down my back swaying from side to side.
The Mistress takes me to the back of the line of girls, locks my leash to the back of the collar of the girl who had been last in the chain. Mistress goes behind me and unlocks my wrist cuffs, bends down and unlocks my anklets. I wonder why.
She puts them in Her shoulder bag. She looks me up and down, hefts my tits in Her hands, lifts my chin and turns my head side to side as if She's appraising an animal at a dog show or something. She seems like She came to a decision and reaches back into Her bag.
She pulls out different shackles. I think they're pretty, highly polished steel, but wonder why the chains are so long. It takes Her several seconds to pull each one high out of her purse the chains are so long.
A cuff is clicked closed on my right wrist. A chain that must be four feet long is snapped onto my front collar ring. Then She does the same with my left. I try to stand pretty, not quite understanding.
Then She clicks a long chain on my back collar ring. i see it has an anklet at the end of what must be a five foot chain. She snaps another one like it there too. Then She bends down and clicks the anklets on me one at a time. I'm puzzled. I'm not restrained at all. The chains loop down loose. The ones to my anklets even lay on the floor a bit.
Then it dawns on me.
"OMG! I've seen dancer slave girls in these!" I realize with a start. These are designed just to look and sound pretty. I swallow hard. I try to review all my dance classes quickly in my mind. Hip thrusts and arm movements run through my head.
The Mistress lashes me with Her crop. "Move slut! Shake it for me," She commands.
Some of the other girls turn a bit to watch. I become nervous.
As sensuously as I can, I raise my arms high above my head. I flex my knees. I pause a moment. Slowly I squirm like a snake. I make the squirm start at my arms... wrists, then elbows, shoulders... then my torso, my hips, then my knees. My motions flow down my body. I do it three times, then swirl my tits and hips in slow circles just waving my arms above my head like tall grass in a light breeze. My chains clink and jingle cutely as I hoped they would. It's the best I can come up with on the spot. This is only like a minute so far. I figure I'll do hip bumps next.
"Stop. Not too bad," She says. I watch Her punch a 1 then a 0 on Her keypad. "You may stand."
I lower my eyes and tilt my head down a bit in submission. "Yes Mistress, thank You Mistress," I murmur throatily, trying my best to sound sexy. I relax being sure to slink into a sultry pose, right hip cocked to one side, palm on that hip, left arm loose at my side.
It makes me very happy to see most of the other girls smile slightly, a sparkle in their eyes. I see the Mistress punch ANOTHER 1 then 0 in Her keypad. my spirits soar!
But suddenly She scowls.
"I said stand! NOT grin, you stupid bitch!" She yells and slashes me twice across both my tits with Her crop, left to right first, then right to left. A girl ahead giggles softly. 9s CAN be bitches.
"YES Mistress!" I yelp. "slave begs forgiveness Mistress please!"
She scowls again but I'm relieved to see She does not punch anything in Her keypad. I'd shit myself if I watched Her punch any zeros. The Mistress just turns and walks back to the head of the line. She unlocks us from the wall ring and just continues down the corridor. I let out my breath that I realize i had been holding.
We're led down a couple corridors, down long winding spiral stairways. Whenever we pass a Domme, I see all the girls stand straighter, sway their hips more. I do the same plus make my chains jingle. When we pass a low slave parked at her wall ring, I try not to look too haughty. Funny. I now think of them as low slaves. The Mistress passes them by and I mentally agree that "they" do not belong on "my" chain.
The Mistress stops us. I see Her park us at a wall ring and turn to walk toward me. Since I'm last on the chain this must be where She's going to drop me off. I sneak a glance around to try to figure out what I'm going to be doing.
I spot a sign on the wall "Mistress Matilda's Slave Spa" with a picture of a girl in a hairdresser's chair, except she's manacled to it.
The slave driver Mistress is unlocking my leash from the girl in front of me while saying, "you STINK slave! you smell like sweat and cum and rubber. Your hair's a wreck." "Come. Heel." I hear a girl in the chain giggle again and I blush head to toe embarrassed. I hope she gets whipped! But she's right I suppose.
The Mistress walks me into the spa. It smells just like any woman's hair stylist salon. It stinks of hair color chemicals, hair spray, and nail polish which means I love it! There's a Mistress at a desk and I see slave girls scurrying this way and that.
"Hi Matilda, " the Mistress says to the Mistress behind the desk. "Got a stinky slut here, a new 9 in fact. See if you can make it more presentable, will you?"
The Mistress behind the desk, who must be Matilda, consults Her schedule on the desk top.
"Sure Joan. No problem. I can do something with even that," She says nodding toward me. I blush again.
The slave driver Mistress, who I now know is Joan, hands my leash to Mistress Matilda. I drop to my knees to kiss Her feet.
Licking and kissing respectfully, I mutter between licks, "Thank You Mistress, thank You very much. A slave is very grateful." My leash is just long enough so I turn to my driver and do the same.
Mistress Matilda tugs my leash once. I stop and kneel up as pretty as I can. Joan and Matilda kiss like just friends, which I think is sweet, and Mistress Joan turns to walk out.
Turning back for a moment, Mistress Joan asks, "I'll be back for the bitch in what? Three hours?"
"Better make it four," Mistress Matilda replies. "This thing needs a LOT of work." I blush again and lower my eyes, dejected. I thought I was fairly pretty. I pout.
Instantly, a cane lashes down my back.
"Wipe that look off your face slave," Mistress Matilda commands. "I will decide how you look and I'm going to make you sparkle. Understand?"
"Yes Mistress. Thank You Mistress," I whimper meekly. "This slave begs forgiveness. girl will be good." I smile nicely, trying to show my appreciation.
"Better. Stand. Come," She says tugging my leash twice.
We walk through Her salon. I see girls manacled in chairs while they get manicures, pedicures, hairstyles, all sorts of wonderful work done by other girls ankle chained to the chairs. Low slaves on their knees sweep up hair clippings.
She does not stop but takes me through the back door. I swallow hard. I see "The Slave Wash" sign.
I've been through that thing before. I do not like it. The thing is just like an automated car wash, but for slave girls.
She leads me to stand on a platform with little wheels. It's a wire mesh grid about three feet square. There are two vertical posts with clamps in four places for a girl's limbs and four other posts supporting horizontal plates. She makes me half stand, half squat between the center two posts. I must stand with my legs spread, my arms out and up, all touching the clamps on the posts. She clamps my arms and legs to the posts. There are two clamps for each of my arms, two for each leg. I'm solidly clamped in place but squatting with my arms raised and can not move. Then She removes my decorative shackles and collar. I miss them already.
It's how your hair is washed that i really don't like. There are two steel plates, one in front of me and one behind. Both are about three feet wide like the platform, two feet long, with half circle openings in them that match where my neck is.
She lifts my hair and slides the steel plates closed around my neck. They click, locked around my throat.
Now I really can't move. The design has me standing completely open but immobilized. My head and hair is separated from whatever is to be done to me below. I whimper. I know what's coming.
She rolls my platform into a long tunnel. I look down a long line of mechanized swirling brushes and spray nozzles. Something grabs the base of the platform and I lurch ahead into the tunnel.
First I'm sprayed with hot water all over. I'm glad it's not too hot at least. There are even jets that squirt straight up through the platform. They're aimed perfectly for my vagina and rectum. I squeal like a pig!
I jerk a few feet ahead. I know to close my eyes for what's next.
Strong pulsating jets of shampoo hit my hair. It actually smells nice! Flowery! Below many squirts and waving streams of soapy water blast me. The ones to my twat and rectum as so strong I'm getting one HELL of a douche and enema at the same time!!
The platform jumps a few more feet ahead.
All sorts of swirling twirling brushes descend from every direction. Every part of my body is being scrubbed. It's not hard or cruel, but it surely makes you feel like an object being washed this way. I reluctantly admit to myself that they're very clever. The ones above the steel plates actually scrub my face, massage my scalp, lift my hair, pull my hair straight back. My hair is rhythmically stroked, combed and brushed. I close my eyes even tighter and grimace a bit as the ones like bottle brushes invade my cunt and a-hole. I gasp and get a mouthful of shampoo by mistake. I sputter and spit it out as best I can. The brushes are soft and not bad really as they slide in and out but is sure is a shock to be so helplessly cleaned.
The brushes pull out of me, all of them whir and move away. I lurch a few feet ahead again.
STRONG moving streams of water surprise me even though I knew they were coming. I gasp in shock and of course get water shot down my throat. "Damn it!" I think, "I should have known better!" This lasts like a full minute or two. I remember now that it's actually like a pretty nice massage. Above the steel plates I smell what must be conditioner spritzed into my hair. "Oh nice!" think. "I don't remember this from last time."
I hear something like jet engines start to roar. I jerk a few feet ahead again.
Wild warm air blasts me all over below. First from one side, then the other, then the other again repeatedly. Even the posts move up, then twist a little so the bottoms of my feet and the sides of my arms and legs are dried. Above the steel plates, it blows my hair straight back, only waving side to side a little. My hair ripples, blasted straight back from my head. My eyelids flutter despite the fact that I'm trying to keep them shut as hard as I can.
The jet engine sounds slowly whine to a stop.
I lurch a few feet ahead again. The platform stops with a jolt. Hesitantly, I blink open my eyes. I must be finished I guess. "What? No wax?" I joke to myself.
Mistress Matilda walks up and clicks my collar around my neck below the steel plates. She unlocks and slides the plates open. My leash is clipped back to my front collar ring again. I can see now that it dangles down to a handle looped around Her left wrist. I'm surprised how very gently she flips my hair thru a scrunchie hair holder. Then She unclamps me from the posts.
"Heel girl," She commands and leads me back into the salon. My hair is dry. I smell good. I'm nice and clean, thoroughly, inside and out. I actually smile and walk a bit prouder.
Mistress takes me to one chair that is empty. Its girl bow low to the floor, palms flat on the floor on either side of her head. "How may this slave serve Mistress?" she asks nicely. I see she has a two inch wide polished steel collar and an anklet with about six feet of chain. she's probably a 7 girl. She's wearing a pretty hot pink dress like a tank top that falls to mid thigh. It's really adorable on her even if it is a common slave work outfit. It's just thin cotton and hugs every curve of her body. Her nipples strain against the tight material.
As Mistress Matilda shackles me into the chair She orders the girl, "Trim this slave's dead ends. Do not shorten it more than two inches. No hair color. If you see any gray I'll whip her, then you can touch it up. Manicure to the proscribed half inch length nails. Pedicure too. Golden peach nail polish."
She pauses a moment while She locks tiny steel straps over every single one of my fingers and thumbs on the armrest of the chair. " Hmmm... " She continues, "lavender mauve eyeshadow blended to pale peach shimmer at the outsides. Lengthen and darken her lashes. Black eyeliner tapered out to edges. Hmmm... find a high gloss lip color to match. Do it wrong and I'll use the electrocution dildos on you again all night. Clear slave?"
The girl crawls to Mistress Matilda and kisses Her feet. "Yes Mistress. Lovely choices Mistress. Thank You Mistress. This slave will start immediately Mistress and be very careful Mistress," she coos sweetly but I notice her brow is a bit sweaty. She must fear those dildos quite a lot.
Three hours later the slave girl holds a mirror up so I can see myself. "Wow!" I think, "Now I really look like a 9!" I make kissey faces in the mirror with my golden lips that look as shiny as a mirror. I bat my long silky eyelashes. My eyes look like Cleopatra with eyeliner upswept a bit and far out to the sides. She madeup my nipples, areolae, and snatch too! Everything is stunning unique combinations of cream, tan, beige, taupe, or gold. I'm thrilled!
I've learned her slave name is sweetslit while she worked and I told her i'm hotbox. She was Julie long ago but after a few years even we slaves rarely even speak those names.
"Thank you sweetie. You do fabulous work!" I sincerely exclaim.
"Awww! you're welcome hottie," she gushes, embarrassed by my compliment.
We both see Mistress Matilda approaching. sweetslit kneels. I just sit since I can't move a millimeter in the tall collar over my regular collar and the thirty-some steel straps that hold me totally rigid in the chair.
Mistress unlocks my tall collar, backs away a step, stands with Her hands on Her hips to examine me. She looks me over carefully for almost a minute.
"Not bad. Not bad at all," She states. I watch her push 1 then 0 on her hand-held device a couple times, probably grading sweetslit, maybe me too but I can't imagine for what. It's always Their call in every way. A slave is totally helpless and her life is controlled by this too as well as the unending bondage and discipline at all times.
Mistress Matilda pets sweetslit's head. "Good girl," She says smiling. She pulls a small chocolate out of Her purse and pops it into sweetie's mouth. Sweetslit swirls in around in her mouth, grinning at the same time, bows low.
"Thank You Mistress!" sweetie chirps wile still sucking her treat. "A slave is happy if You are pleased." She crawls forward to kiss Mistress' feet.
Mistress Matilda steps to the chair, grabs my leash, slips the handle around Her wrist. Then She starts to unstrap me.
When I'm free, She tugs my leash twice. "Up. Heel," She commands softly. I'm relieved that it seems She really does like the way I look.
She leads me to the front of the salon. She unlocks a glass door. I see that it's like a store display, glass front facing the corridor outside as well as the glass inside. She tugs me into it and locks my leash to a wall ring on the right about even with my shoulders. She steps out and locks the door.
Mistress Matilda goes back to Her desk and fiddles with controls on Her computer. Soft pulsing music start to play. I guess it's in my glass cage and the store too probably.
She picks up Her hand-held device and speaks into it, "hotbox, dance until your chain driver comes back for you. You will be my spa display until then."
I'm honored! She's using me as a display for her spa! I start to sway to the music. I lift my arms and run my fingers through my hair so it cascades around my shoulders as I move. It's so silky and shiny now! I smile. I think to myself, "She must really like how i look to use me this way. I can hardly wait till the other girls see me now. I'll show them what a 9 can be!"
As I bump and grind I also daydream some really cute Mistress might see me too. I smile dreamily as I dance.