Two to Serve

by Jennifer Campbell

“Now that you see how sensitive the buttons are, I will tell you what happens if you don’t respond in three seconds, or if you accidentally press both buttons.” He adjusted the pain dial to 7, and turned to me with a placid smile on his face. “Each failed response earns you a three-second shot of pain in your anus, but during the three seconds, you must respond, or the pain will not stop. As soon as you respond, another two images will be displayed, and you have a fresh three seconds to respond. Do you understand?”

  Blinking once, I acknowledged his instructions, but it all seemed too easy. Slaves become suspicious of easy solutions, as they are often deceiving. Just press the button in three seconds and everything will be fine sounded too good to be true.

  “Watch my hand, the test begins when I press the white button.” Brown pressed the button and the sequence began. Paired images flipped by me, as I stabbed my buttons instantly with the first thought that entered my mind. Having no time to consider them like I had the first pair, the images seemed wildly unrelated to me, requiring my sole concentration on the screen. One pair was a clown gesticulating wildly, beside a picture of a basket of apples. What can be learned about me from my choice of the basket of apples over the clown? Perhaps, I’m hungry.

  Time was relative as Brown stepped away. Not wishing to risk a quick glance at the clock on the wall, I maintained my concentration through hundreds of image pairs. Beginning to get mentally tired and frustrated, my eyes began to roam slightly from taking in details of the screen. It was then that I saw it, a small counter at the bottom right of the screen.

  What it said so horrified me that I missed an image, sending a painful jolt to my ass. Concentrating again, I pushed the left button through the pain, and saw the counter move. It read, ‘image 434 of 8765’. Oh, my God, this is going to take hours.

  * * * *

  Five hours, in fact, had passed when Brown finally freed me from all the pads, probes, clips, and clamps that had covered my body. There had been lots of fresh pain, as it was impossible to maintain high concentration for that long a time. A complete wreck physically, I was, more important, mentally exhausted, as I looked up at the clock, which read quarter to five in the morning.

  “Well done, slave. Now you must eat and sleep to be ready for your contract signing at noon today. Into your cage, and I will go to the kitchen for some food for you.” With a stern look, he pointed to the cage from which I had come.

  Resigned, I crawled into the small space, and he locked the door behind me. Watching him leave, I wondered if I would still be awake when he returned, considering my level of exhaustion. Strangely, I found it was my poor big toes that hurt the most, perhaps because I had never been tortured there before.

  When Brown returned, he bore two ceramic bowls, brightly decorated in beautiful designs. Unlocking my cage door, he placed the bowls inside and took the time to handcuff my wrists behind my back.

  The message was clear, and not lost on me. I would eat as a slave, my mouth pressed into the bowl. More thirsty than proud, I slurped the cool water from one of the bowls into my mouth. I am a slave, so I will not be bothered about eating like one.

  After slurping down the water, I moved to the food, telling myself to eat quickly so I could get to sleep. Tasting the food, I found it delicious, gourmet in fact. Some kind of ginger-spiced chicken with mushrooms, peppers, and green beans that snapped in my mouth they were so fresh. I may be just a slave here at The Mansion, but if you don’t mind the eating style, the cuisine is wonderful. For a brief moment, my mind fantasized about a five-star restaurant for female slaves, with dozens of naked girls eating from bowls on the floor and waiters fucking them as they ate. How very naughty of me.

  Finishing the meal, my belly full, I spotted Brown working feverishly at his computer, perhaps compiling my data. Deciding to be bold, I asked him a question. “Mr. Brown, may this slave ask what her data will tell you? What will you use it for?” Looking at him, I let my chocolate-brown eyes plead with him. I really was curious about what he was doing?

  Looking perturbed at me initially, his mood seemed to soften at my gaze. “Normally I don’t tolerate interruptions from slaves, but I like you. You look like the girl I wanted to date in high school, my dream girl. Of course, she wanted nothing to do with me, so I may use you later to fantasize what taking her would have been like. All I’m going to say about your testing is that when you awaken, something remarkable will be waiting for you, something I invented that reaches inside you to make you a more perfect, obedient slave. I won’t say exactly what it is, but I will say while you live here you will never be able to hide your emotions again.” Brown grinned wickedly at me, his eyes soaking in my lush body. “Now get some sleep; noon will be here soon.”

  Now a dream girl to an overgrown science nerd, I lay my head down on the cage floor and drifted off to nearly instantaneous sleep.

  * * * *

  When I awoke, I was not in my cage, which made me wonder if the water or food had been drugged, for I am usually a fairly light sleeper. As I became more aware, I found that Brown had moved me while I slumbered, and I was now strapped down tight to a large, smooth-topped table. Leather straps bound me at the ankles, waist, rib cage, and wrists, and I was spread out in an X position. Looking up, I saw a full-length mirror above me, and I realized I had been clothed, in a fashion.

  Clad in a white-nylon cat suit, I was covered neck to toe, save for the openings in the skin-tight nylon that allowed my breasts, pussy, and ass to be fully exposed. Clinging to me like a second skin, the suit displayed my body more wantonly than full nudity could, and I loved the stark contrast with my raven hair.

  Yet, what was missing as I examined myself in the mirror was my treasured, leather slave collar, given to me by my Master. However, I still had a collar, as the leather had been replaced with a band of silvery metal fitted snugly to my bare throat. Wanting to touch it, I could only look closely to see a series of five round lights on the front. What was their purpose?

  A sound from the computer console alerted me to Brown’s presence, and I lifted my head to see him busy pounding away at his keyboard. “Good, you’re awake, just in time. We must calibrate your collar, but first, a little fun.” Brown stood up and started to undress, dropping garments of his namesake uniform on his chair until he stood naked before me.

  “Not what you expected, right, I get that from all the slaves.”

  Who would have known? Hidden under the mousy science nerd face, and the dull brown uniform, was the body of an Adonis. Cut and ripped, in all the places a girl likes, Brown was red hot. It was clear to me his intentions, to fuck his helpless fantasy girl.

  In moments he was straddling my head, his erection hard in my mouth, as I worked his magnificent shaft while gazing up at those ripped abdominals. All I could think of as he filled my throat was his organ thrusting deep in my slave cunt, giving me purpose. He wanted to make his dream girl come. It was part of his fantasy.

  Barely had I finished thinking it, when it happened. Withdrawing from my mouth, he let his hands roam down my body, touching everywhere. Gasping as his tongue found my nipples, I savored his delight as he moved back and forth between the two rosy buds. Reflexively giggling like a teenager, I had to stifle myself when he licked out my belly button. Moving on, he treated me to a lusty lapping of my already engorged clit. Ready as a slave could ever be, I jerked against my bonds when he began to rub his shaft over my slick slit, driving me insane with lust.

  For me, his taking of my hungry gash was almost an afterthought, but the impalement pushed me right to the brink of orgasm. With Brown deep inside me, his tongue licking my neck all around his invention, I slipped into orgasmic bliss, knowing this place would be home.

  My science nerd hunk came too, spurting deep in my slit. Instantly, I thought how appropriate it was for a slave to attend her contract signing with sperm in her hole. Brown lay on me for a time, apparently savoring his experience.

  “Mr. Brown, did this slave please you?” I would have
let him do anything to me at this moment in time, as he seemed so sweet, and this moment so delicious.

  He looked up at me his brown eyes taking on a new twinkle. “Yes, you were perfect, fulfilling my long-held fantasy. I see what Keefe sees in you, and I may use you again, as my duties permit.”

  As Brown slowly got himself off me and put his disguise back on, I contemplated how wonderful this place might be, fulfilling all my wickedly submissive fantasies. Then the thought of my needs being lost among the lusty desires of nineteen other slave girls occurred to me, and I hoped I could shine brightly to my Master’s eye.

  Brown lifted my head out of my thoughts as he appeared above me with a wire ending in a tiny pin connection and a black box. “It is time to download your data to your collar, calibrate it, and get you to your contract ceremony. Keefe will be annoyed at me if I keep the whole house waiting for you.” He stabbed a button on the black box, and I felt a pop on the back of my neck as something opened up on the back of my collar. Pulling my head up, he plugged the pin connection into my collar. Easing my head back down, he moved away, back to his computer. “This will take a few minutes. Remain calm and try to leave your mind as blank as possible.”

  Looking up at the mirror above, I saw the lights on the collar glow brightly, all at once. Red, green, blue, yellow, and violet lights shining so intensely I could have sworn one might see them from hundreds of yards away despite their size. Next they began to blink, at first slowly, but then faster and faster until they became strobe-like. Suddenly, they shut off and were dull again.

  Hearing Brown rise from his chair, I knew my download was complete, my new mystery collar operational, but what did it do? As Brown unfastened the pin connection and undid my leather restraints, I mused. Never be able to hide my emotions again, he had said.

  “Stand up to be leashed. By now everyone has gathered in the Great Hall, so we must hurry you along.” Seeing he carried a nipple leash with him, I was not surprised at all when he snapped two spring clamps onto my nipples. The tiny golden chain from each led away from my orbs, eventually merging together and following a single path to his right hand.

  “You may walk, slave, but remain behind me, head bowed at all times. Mansion rules for novices, they do not speak unless spoken to. Understand?” He gave the leash a light jerk, reminding me of my condition.

  “Yes, Mr. Brown, this slave does, and she thanks you for your use of her.” I meant every word, deeply, and hoped he would use me anytime he wished.

  “ Come then; time to be seen.”

  Another soft jerk got me started, walking behind Brown back up the stairs. Feeling my body begin to tremble, I understood why. Another barrier to my complete submission is being broken down, as I am a tested, collared, slave girl being led on a nipple leash to sign a contract to serve my Master. All this I knew, but what I failed to notice as we walked up the stairway, as there were no mirrors there, was the red and yellow lights on my collar had lit up, and were blinking slowly.

  Two to Serve

  Chapter 3: The Signature of a Slave

  The staircase emerged in a grand, front room of The Mansion. The walls were a pristine white, decorated with an abundance of mirrors. To go with the walls and mirrors vegetation was growing everywhere, as pots of flowers and plants hung on walls and sprouted from dark wood tabletops. Even some ivy and other vines grew along baseboards and walls. Keeping my head slightly down, as ordered, I could not take it all in, but I was struck by the simple beauty and awesome elegance of nature. It seems fitting nature should be so abundant here, where I am following my natural instincts.

  As I walked by one of the mirrors, I noticed my collar, and the lit red and yellow lights immediately sparked curiosity. They fascinated me, this colorful display on my neck, and I resolved to put forth every effort to learn what the lights meant.

  A huge, spiral staircase rose up from the front room to bring Masters and slaves alike to the upper floors of The Mansion. Two enormous dark-wood doors were open to the outside, and I let my eyes glance out to survey the mansion grounds. For as far as my eyes could see, until rolling hills fell away in the distance, I saw only manicured lawns, flower gardens, pools of water with fountains, and trimmed shrubbery. This was truly a beautiful, immaculately maintained nirvana, in which I would serve.

  Brown opened a set of dark wood double doors and led me inside. The room was a huge dining room, lit by several crystal chandeliers hung elegantly over a long mahogany table. At first, I thought the room went on indefinitely, but then I realized the source of my optical confusion. The walls were mirrors, reflecting everything back at you. You could sit anywhere at the long table and see everyone around you from almost any angle you wished. What a tool for my Master, to be able to watch all his slaves so easily.

  Thinking of my Master, I saw him there, at the far head of the table, clad in a gray pinstripe suit with a fedora on his head. Master was far too cute to be mistaken for a gangster, but I liked the imagery. My eyes ran down his arm to his hand, and I was rewarded with my first Mansion vision of my Gail.

  Gail knelt at our Master’s feet, in a nylon cat suit of the same style as mine, but black. Looking positively delicious in the suit, her golden blonde hair was a stark contrast with the black nylon. Although Gail was ball gagged and nipple chained, she reflected my look of longing back at me. Was a dream coming true for her today as well? Her new pair mate was finally there, poised to sign her contract and enter The Mansion. Was that why she seemed as content and happy as I? Then I noticed something, perhaps a clue to the meaning of the lights. At the moment we saw each other, our red lights had remained at the same intensity, but both our yellow lights had gone crazy, shining brighter and blinking far more rapidly.

  Not certain what that meant, I looked around the table and saw sixteen other female bodies, all collared like me and sitting rigidly in high-backed chairs. They were all dressed in various colors of the same style of nylon cat suit, but looking at their heads, I was not sure they were real people. The source of my confusion was simple, as they simply had no faces. No eyes, noses, mouths, or any other facial features presented themselves, yet the bodies were breathing, and ponytails of hair came through holes in the back of some heads. They must all be wearing masks of some sort, but why?

  “Thank you, Brown, for being so prompt with our new novice. You may go about your duties now. And take the leash with you.”

  Brown smiled at me as he removed the spring clamps from my nipples, giving me a light slap on the bottom as he passed by me, exiting and closing the doors behind him.

  “Welcome, Jennifer, to The Mansion. So far, is it all you hoped for?” My Master’s eyes bore into me. He truly wanted to know if I was enjoying my experience.

  “Very much so, Master. This slave is quite happy with her decision.” At the moment I said happy, I looked at the yellow light blinking on my collar and made the connection. Yellow was for happiness, contentment, and the brighter the light and faster the blink, the deeper the feeling. One down, four to go.

  “Yes, Jennifer, I see you are a content slave now, as is my Gail. How revealing that is, and so sweet. Your seat is at the far end of the table, opposite me. Please settle into it and we shall get started.” Making a gracious motion with his hand toward my seat, his eyes demanded obedience of me.

  Moving to the opposite end of the table, I discovered a quality of the high-backed chairs that my fellow slave’s bodies had covered up completely. Rising out of the seat were two white rubber dildos, one massive and the other thankfully smaller. What I must do was clear to me, so I lapped my fingers, using them to wet my anus quickly, and perched myself over the rubber cocks. Easing down, I found that as the large one stretched my cleft, the smaller one was perfectly positioned to impale my bottom hole. My dildos had matched the color of my cat-suit, so were all the seats color coordinated by their colored dildos with their intended occupants? What better way for a slave to find her deeply-filling seat?

  While I wiggled my
self into deeper penetration, I looked about the table at the sixteen faceless slaves. This close up, several things became clearer to me. Yes, they were wearing blank form-fitted rubber masks that covered their entire heads. Conceding that they were blind in there, I wondered how they breathed, until I heard the rasping sounds of breathing, emanating from hoses coming out from under the masks near their collared necks. All the girl’s legs were spread wide, and their wrists were cuffed securely behind the backs of the chairs. Apparently, the masks must have been fit tightly, perhaps personally fitted, as the long-haired girl’s masks were supplied with a hole through which a ponytail was pulled. Some of the empty, faceless things had blonde, raven, or brunette locks falling behind them.

  The next thing that I noticed was the cat suites, specifically their color, which seemed to indicate their pairings. Each pair of girls, who sat directly opposite each other, had two colors on her nylon, one was the base color identical on both girls, the other was an accent color, either in tiger-like strips, or long slashes down the sides. The accent color was different on each girl. The only cat suits not twin-colored were the two closest to me, both plain white, like mine, and Gail’s simple black. The two closest to me must be fellow novices, unpaired yet, like me.

  Master Keefe addressed me directly, his voice clear and precise as to what was expected of me. “You will meet all your fellow slaves after the meeting is adjourned, but now you must start by reading the contract carefully. It is right in front of you and has multiple pages, so begin. Do not speak until you have read the whole document; then we will address your concerns.”

  In front of me on the table, I saw two things. The first was a huge black dildo sitting base down in a glass inkpot. What is the purpose of that monstrosity? Discarding my curiosity, I saw my contract, my name printed neatly on the front page. A service contract between Jennifer Campbell and Mansion Slaves Corporation was what I read on the title page.