As the old grandfather clock struck midnight, the slave slowly entered the chamber, flanked by two of her more experienced sisters. mandi and amanda were tall, identical twins, clad in flowing white gowns, tall white heels locked to their ankles, and thin, elegant black leather collars with a cascade of dangling thin silver chains. Despite their bald heads and lack of eyebrows, mandi and Amanda looked stunning, ravishing, their scant makeup beautifully accentuating their natural radiance in the candle-lit room of the mansion.
In contrast, the slave was short even by female standards. she was entirely nude, save for the wide, thick leather collar with the giant D-ring at its front. Like her sister slaves, the only hairs permitted on her body were those connected to her eyelids. The diminutive slave wore no makeup, a privilege which she had not yet achieved despite her nearly four full years of service. Clothing and even jewelry were also denied her, except upon the order of a Master or Mistress of The Order. Yet, despite the lack of hair or fashionable accoutrements, she was still quite pleasing to the eye, even with her plain "Midwestern farmgirl" look and history.
As the slave was silently led across the polished wooden floor of the chamber, she was only vaguely aware of the dozens of M/members to her left. The Mistresses and Masters sat in comfortable, high-backed chairs, the Dominants' clothing formal and elegant. The slaves, mostly female, all knelt hear their Owners; the level of dress and the types of collars indicated the slaves' status within The Order.
Directly ahead of the slowly-moving trio was the tall grandfather clock, the final notes of its midnight chime now echoing in the large chamber. When she had first heard the chime of this massive timepiece, she was brought before The Order for the final interview, a rigorous affair which had lasted well over two full hours, a time made agonizingly difficult by her nude kneeling position upon the polished hardwood floor and her position directly underneath an air conditioning vent.
she reflected upon the past four years of her servitude in The Order, and inwardly smiled. she had not truly been naïve upon her initiation into The Order, for she had spent countless late-night hours scouring the Internet and visiting chat rooms and vigorously living a more "adventurous" lifestyle. Yet, she had been a virgin, which Master Thomas then purposely rectified in a special addendum to her initiation ceremony, a ceremony captured on film and subsequently distributed to all interested Dominants of The Order. Now that she had four years of experience, her previously-acquired "textbook knowledge" represented barely one percent of her knowledge and her person, and she knew that she still had far, far more to learn.
To her right, the slave saw Mistress Sylia sitting upon the throne. After Master Thomas' untimely death when He was struck by a drunk driver inexplicably attempting to flee from the police, Mistress Sylia had taken her under her proverbial wing. she enjoyed Mistress Sylia's harsh but loving tutelage, and had also come to share her love for Japanese animation. Mistress Sylia appeared very much like her namesake as she sat upon the throne, to the extent that the slave could almost see the Silky Doll's interior surrounding her. she could certainly envision Sylia wearing the same black leather corset-dress and elegant black heels Mistress Sylia wore, and looking just as mesmerizing and seductive.
Finally reaching the center of the chamber, the trio of slaves turned to face Mistress Sylia. The tiny slave knelt in a single fluid motion, her back always perpendicular to the floor, just as Master Thomas had taught her years before; mandi and amanda both dropped into a very low curtsey, awaiting Mistress Sylia's signal before rising and shrinking back into the assembled crowd.
her knees parted slightly, her ankles crossed beneath her, and her wrists crossed at the back of her waist, the slave looked up at her Mistress, awaiting her speech. Having seen other slaves as the focal point of this very ceremony, she knew what to expect, but still she awaited her Mistress' speech with baited breath.
"My dearest, sweetest, humblest slave," Mistress Sylia said aloud so all those assembled behind the slave could easily hear, "you have indeed surprised U/us. When you first came to The Order, I wanted nothing to do with you, and many of the other Dominants at that time felt the same. At that time, you appeared far too naïve, far too innocent, to enter The Order and survive more than a few days.
"There was, however, a small faction amongst Us Dominants. Spearheaded by Master Thomas, who sadly is no longer physically among The Order, the faction slowly changed Our minds. For someone with absolutely no experience in sex, let alone the 'darker passions' upon which The Order was founded decades ago, your poise and endurance during the lengthy interviews was remarkable.
"I am certain that all of U/us present at your initiation ceremony were both aroused and impressed by your performance as Master Thomas took your virginity and innocence from you. Despite your tiny size and His well-known girth, you acted and reacted like a seasoned professional, and several slaves even admitted to Me afterward that your performance truly inspired them.
"Over time, you had inspired Me as well, and upon Master Thomas' untimely death, I was honored that you chose to serve Me, and allow Me and My slaves to continue your training. you have also taught Me a lot about Myself and how I interact with slaves, and, as more than a few of The Order have commented openly to Me, you have softened Me. I know that for a Dominant to admit to softening is nearly considered blasphemous, but I truly believe it is for the better, both for Me and for the slaves who serve Me.
"Through these nearly four years in The Order, you have also flourished in 'mundane' ways. All of U/us here were thrilled that you were able to both maintain a strict regimen within The Order AND obtain your degree in English. Last week's news that three of your short stories were accepted for publication provided U/us all with a reason to celebrate. Tonight is essentially an extension of that celebration, as W/we gather to celebrate your rise to the highest level of slavery, for you shall tonight become a senior slave.
The senior slave momentarily entered the slave's peripheral vision, the heels clicking upon the polished hardwood floor as she approached and then stepped behind the throne, standing directly behind their Mistress, indeed a place of honor for any slave whose Owner was seated upon the throne.
The slave moved forward from her kneeling position, crawling slowly. she was fully aware that her most intimate anatomy was completely exposed to the Dominants and slaves behind her, yet instead of embarrassment and shame, she felt satisfaction and freedom. Slowly, the slave crawled the short distance to Mistress Sylia's feet, then knelt again in the same position as before, looking up expectantly, lovingly.
"From this day forward, you shall have the one thing which most initiates cannot bear to lose: a name. Have you chosen your name, slave?"
she hesitated briefly, wanting to ensure her voice could be clearly heard by the crowd assembled behind her. "Yes, Mistress, i have chosen."
"Remove the collar."
she lifted her hands to the back of her neck. While calm and at peace, her fingers trembled a little as she unbuckled and then removed the collar, presenting it to her Mistress.
"With the removal of this collar, slave, your formal training has ended." Mistress Sylia leaned forward to accept the wide collar, and placed it across Her lap before settling back into the throne.
mandi then stepped to the side of the throne, a thinner, elegant, ladylike collar across her upturned palms. Their Mistress gave a nod of approval, and mandi moved to kneel behind the slave to place the jewel-studded leather around the small neck. The slave then heard mandi stand and return to join the others.
"This collar is a symbol to all in The Order that you are still a slave," Mistress Sylia noted aloud, "but a slave who has definitely earned the respect of A/all. And, most importantly, that you are a slave who has definitely earned her name.
"Now, slave, rise and announce."
Slowly, fluidly, keeping her back perpendicular to the floor, the slave rose to her feet, then turned to face the Dominants and slaves she had come to admire and trust and love. It hurt her to not see Master Thomas sitting in the audience, but she nonetheless felt His powerful, protective arms encircling her, despite His conspicuous absence.
"my name," she announced proudly, "is usagi."
Applause and cheers erupted from the audience, for a naming ceremony was always a momentous occasion. A moment later, as she fought to control her grin, she felt her Mistress' hands upon her shoulders and Her breath warm in her left ear.
"Well chosen, usa-ko."
usagi's grin widened.