Worthy of a Master: The Tale of a Perfect Slave

by Chelsea Shepard

  "What ... what will you ask of me on that day?"

  He grinned menacingly.

  "You'll see. Just remember: if you fail to obey, our deal is off. No whipping scene, no Khiru."

  "I'll be there, and I will obey. When?"

  "Say one week from today. Here. Send me a note the day before to confirm your time of arrival. At the end of our session, and only if you've been a good girl, we'll discuss your plan."

  Thankfully, Khyrian weeks counted only five days. At the end of the fifth day, I was feeling so out of sorts, I couldn't have lived through another one with so much anxiety in me. At least, with his request – his blackmail, really – Lodel had managed the impossible: distracting me from Khiru.

  Preparing for the inevitable, I searched for more information about Lodel, but what I found in his online dossier only increased my apprehension.

  Most personal files contained a description of a person's sexual inclination because it made it easier to look for a compatible play partner. Everyone was responsible for the completion of this private data. In the past months, I had checked many files. Myhre and Jova had specified their Northie/Southie trait, followed by an indication that they had an exclusive relationship with their lifepartner. This would keep players off their backs. Naari had mentioned his preference for bondage, sensual play, discipline and female Southies. Vhar's file was the funniest: "Men, women, or anything that comes between them." Khiru hadn't provided any detail, but his name was tagged with the unmistakable "R" that said more than enough.

  When I had returned from my visit to Lodel in the Twilight, I'd immediately checked his file. "Public scenes, dress-up, humiliation, servitude, group play, female only." On the list, only public scenes appealed to my slightly exhibitionist nature. However, I hoped Lodel would remember that those were out of the question, since I was trying to keep my intentions secret from everyone. We were therefore left with categories of games I dreaded. Dressing up would be the best-case scenario. Group play, the worst. Humiliation and servitude were equal nightmares.

  In an absurd contradiction, I was more concerned about the kinks Lodel would impose on me than the whipping I'd asked him to give me. At least I found comfort in the memories of the birthday party scene. Lodel had never been evil or cruel; had he even known I wasn't consenting? Probably not.

  There was, however, an unnerving side in him. I was unable to trust him as I did Naari or Khiru. Perhaps it was a question of chemistry. Or clothes. Lodel was too different, too weird, and he scared me a little.

  But they wouldn't put a dangerous maniac on a spaceship, would they?

  For five days, I resumed normal activities with Vhar, Myhre and Naari, and tortured myself with scenarios and endings.

  On the fourth day, I sent Lodel the confirmation of my arrival time: dawn for me, late afternoon for him. I figured it would be easier to disappear early, when my friends were at work, and come back for dinner. I made up an appointment at the Infirmary, gave false excuses to everyone, and spent the night in a state of high agitation.

  When the alarm woke me up the next morning and the preprogrammed lights turned as bright as a midday sun, I felt like a prisoner on death row whose time had come.

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  Unlike my previous visit, Lodel was suitably prepared to receive me. When I reached the last step on the stairs in front of his office, he was leaning on his desk, facing me. Unsurprisingly, he was dressed in a flamboyant fashion: a fluffy white shirt with lace cuffs dropping down from his elbows, a sleeveless cardigan of black lilk embroidered with silver patterns, and matching black pants. As always, his shoes shone with bright polish. After the Renaissance costume and the old-fashioned suit, he had upgraded to a modern Musketeer. Such a pity he never wore hats.

  I stopped smiling as soon as Lodel commanded me to enter the room. I hadn't expected him to bark at me, and I was taken aback when he did. Before I had a chance to bite back, he gave me his first order:

  "Strip."

  We were alone, but I could hear people working in the other offices, and without a door, they could see us at any time. Lodel watched me stare helplessly at the gaping openings, but all he did was inform me of rule number one for the day: I was to stay silent at all times, until he ordered me otherwise.

  Enjoying my struggle to obey him on both counts, he waited for me to undress.

  I reminded myself that I'd been naked before in front of dozens of people, and removed my T-shirt. It wasn't quite the same, though. I'd only shown my body in the Therms where nudity seemed natural. I'd worn revealing and transparent clothes in public, but only at parties or in the evening. Here I was at a workplace. Worse, a man I didn't like was asking me to get naked while everyone else, including himself, was dressed.

  Under Lodel's cruel gaze, I continued to strip until my underwear fell on one of the red chairs.

  Then Lodel produced my attire for the day.

  "Isn't it beautiful?"

  It was. The dress looked appropriate for a movie star sashaying down the red carpet at the Oscars. Long and tight, following the natural curves of a woman's body, it glittered like a diamond. The top of the dress was a strapless corset with laces in front. From the waist down, a long tube of silver lilk dropped to the floor. The proportions didn't look right – the bodice seemed too short, the tube, too tight – but I was relieved to see a normal, albeit excessively glamorous, piece of clothing.

  In silence, I put on the gala dress. Lodel lowered it so I could slip inside the tube. I squirmed while he stretched the fabric, and together, we managed to adjust it around my legs and bottom. Behind me, a huge hole revealed my bottom, and I figured it wasn't a manufacturing fault. The fabric was extremely tight, and I doubted I could walk in it, especially when it was long enough to graze the floor.

  As I began to worry about the activities planned for the day, Lodel tightened the bodice around my waist, tugging the laces until I was practically breathless. I leaned on his shoulders to keep my balance and, gazing down, realized why the top part of the dress had seemed so short. It didn't cover my breasts. Quite the opposite, actually. By narrowing my waist to what felt like half its circumference, the corset pushed my breasts out and up, making me feel like a disreputable duchess.

  To further the nobility effect, Lodel worked my hair into an elaborate bun using a variety of pins and gadgets.

  Next, Lodel picked up elbow-length gloves and presented them to me. When I slid my hand inside the first one, I noticed it didn't end in five cylinders for my fingers, but rather in a mitten. Thanks to a separate thumb, I could grab and hold objects, but I'd lost much of my dexterity.

  As if that wasn't enough, Lodel wrapped my wrists in thin silver bracelets and connected them with a chain. Then, he locked a second chain in the middle of the first one, at the level of my navel, and separated it into two lengths.

  Opening a box on the table, he retrieved what I recognized as nipple clamps.

  I swallowed hard when I saw the metallic teeth, and winced when they bit me. The pain was gone in a few seconds, just in time for the second round. Lodel connected the chain between the clamps to the shorter half of the links attached in front of my navel.

  Grabbing the longer half, he slipped it under the dress through a tiny hole I hadn't noticed, and looped it between my legs and up along my back. The links felt cold on my cheeks.

  The chains jangled noisily around me. I turned left and right to see if anyone bothered to look what the rattling sound in our room was all about, but the Twilight staff had either witnessed too many scenes to care, or Lodel had given the word, and they were all kind enough not to annoy me.

  When Lodel secured the chain to my hair bun, I almost broke the rule of silence, but stifled myself before I could choke out a protest.

  "Tsk, tsk," he scolded. "Not a word, or I'll make it much worse."

  My situation being bad enough, I shut my mouth.

  My hands had lost much of their functionality and were trapped within a limited sc
ope in front of my lap. If I moved them too high, a chain scraped my sex and yanked my hair. Too low, and another chain dragged my breasts down. Restricted inside the glittering dress, my legs were sealed together as far down as my knees, and my feet could only manage minuscule steps. My bottom was exposed for everyone to admire, and my breasts stuck out provocatively. The constriction in my waist and the bun pulling my hair up were mere details.

  Unlike the last restraint Lodel inflicted on me.

  When I saw the heels, it was all I could do to stop the surge of protest rising up my throat. One stern look kept me quiet, and I obediently lifted my legs one at a time to allow Lodel to strap on the shoes.

  I never liked high heels. I had neither the patience nor the poise, and I failed to see why they were so attractive to men, let alone women. When Lodel let me go, I struggled to keep my balance, silently cursing the horrible footwear.

  "You look smashing," my tormentor concluded after a thorough once-over. "I knew the dress would be perfect on you. It emphasizes your wonderful curves, your remarkable breasts, your cute bottom. One final touch, and you'll be ready."

  Out of the box, he retrieved a make-up brush and a jar of white powder.

  "You're lucky to have such a pale complexion," he commented as he applied foundation on my face. "This will only enhance your natural beauty."

  Next came a make-up pencil and a lipstick tube.

  "Your eyes are so big, you hardly need liner, but it's fun to magnify perfection. Finally, silver gloss on your lips. Superb. Let me show you."

  He disappeared in another room and returned with a tall mirror, which he placed in front of me.

  My reflection startled me. Because of the unusual make-up, I'd almost expected to see the grotesque face of a clown. But the hair, white foundation and silver trails around my eyes and lips combined to confer undeniable grace and beauty.

  The glittering dress turned my body into an hourglass that made me look taller and thinner. I would have smiled with delight if the effect hadn't been ruined by the chains and, more particularly, my breasts. Naked, clamped, and pushed out, they were a cruel reality check, and the chilly draft on my ass made my new look more frightening than appealing.

  "You'll be the star of the show," Lodel concluded before leaning the mirror against a wall.

  I didn't like the sound of that.

  "Let's review the rules, shall we?" he continued. "You will obey each and every order immediately. Any delay will be promptly corrected."

  He pointed at a cane standing next the central entrance, and I nodded my understanding.

  "You will not talk, unless I explicitly tell you to. Finally, when we walk, you will stay slightly ahead of me and never look back. Three rules should be simple enough, right? Now, let's go get dinner."

  My stomach twisted at the thought of strolling around the ship in such a costume. I would have felt more comfortable in a resina catsuit or in full leather gear. I bet they would draw less attention than this diva dress. And what about going public? Couldn't we just go to a dungeon or his bedroom? If any of my friends, or worse, Khiru, saw me today, my strategy was compromised. By now, the Blue Team would have finished breakfast and started work. Khiru, on the other hand, might still be in the cafeteria, working on his dinner.

  There was nothing I could do except go along with the program.

  No!" he shouted when I awkwardly aimed for the staircase. "To the left. I want my colleagues to see you first."

  Of course his friends were charmed, especially when I blushed.

  Lodel ordered me to turn around and show my ass. I complied, biting my lips. I wanted to leave, but at the same time, I was afraid to move on. The world outside was even scarier than these rooms.

  When everyone had praised us enough, Lodel signaled for me to walk down the stairs. I temporarily forgot my distress while I concentrated on each step, careful not to stumble down and reach the ground floor more quickly than necessary.

  As soon as we hit the plaza, my internal radar started sweeping the crowd in search of familiar faces. I was so concerned about meeting people I knew that I stopped caring about my appearance. To my surprise, I made it through the half-lit streets of the Twilight without dying of shame.

  We entered an elevator, and Lodel pressed "1." We were heading for the bridge. Was he out of his mind?

  My groan of discontent caught his attention.

  "Yes," he said, "we're going to the first deck. There's a small cafeteria there. The command crew is sometimes too busy to come down and share meals with us, so they grab a bite in their own lounge instead. These days, the bridge is so quiet, they won't mind our presence.

  "Oh, and stop worrying," he added when he saw fear change the color of my face. "Khiru won't be there. I have friends reporting on his whereabouts; he's just started dinner with Nur, and he's unlikely to return to the bridge after that. Rest assured we won't cross his path."

  Relief washed over me, and I felt instantly better. Lodel had a clue; choosing him as a partner wasn't such a bad idea after all.

  We scurried along the corridors on Deck 1, my chains jingling, my heels clicking. My assumption that I would be the center of attention was sadly correct; as we passed by, everyone stopped to look at me. My walking was so distressingly slow, they all had plenty of time to check the details of my ornaments, front and back. When they were through, they looked at Lodel, who stood right behind me, and congratulated him or wished him a fun day. I was mortified.

  After an endless stroll, we reached the bridge cafeteria. It was much smaller than the main dining hall, but packed with people taking a late breakfast or finishing dinner, according to their shift. It was their best opportunity to exchange information and ensure a smooth transition between teams. In critical moments, it was common for engineers and pilots to work extra-hours and merge with the other team. Meals were taken at any time, in the most disorderly way, and the cafeteria was buzzing with impatient and anxious vibes.

  That day, everything was peaceful, to the point of boredom. I made a formidable entrance.

  "See the guy waving at us on the right?" Lodel said behind me. "Go to him."

  With one hundred pairs of eyes following each of my uneasy steps, I reached a table close to the buffet where a friend of Lodel's had kept one chair free by his side. Only one chair.

  "Hi," the guy said to Lodel while he stared at me. "What a beautiful specimen you got here. Make her show off for me."

  "Megan, turn around!"

  My eyes welled up. I resented being treated as an object of lust, a prostitute, a sex toy. This was more unbearable than the fiercest caning, although I had yet to try that particular treat. But I'd already experienced enough of this humiliation business to know I hated it. I would never make it through the day.

  As I let Lodel's friend marvel at my naked bottom, I thought of the higher purpose behind this masquerade. My motivation restored, I slowly turned back around.

  "Good," Lodel said as he sat down. "Now, fetch our dinner."

  Picking up a tray, then bowls of food, proved harder than usual. To avoid dragging the various chains up and down, I took small and delicate moves, made all the more difficult by the impractical mittens. I had to bend my knees to bring my hands to the food level, and almost lost my balance because of the heels. Reflexively, I reached out for support and grunted with pain when the clamps tugged hard into my nipples. I brought my hands up to soothe them, only to be reminded of the chain rubbing against my sex.

  Struggling with too many simultaneous problems, I desperately searched for someone to help me. One of the kitchen staff saw me and came to the rescue. Thanks to him, I managed to fill the tray.

  Before returning to the table, I observed Lodel. He was literally beaming with pride. In his eccentric costume, he looked like a king, and I finally deduced his kink. He wasn't shaming me. He was trying to draw attention to himself. As my temporary owner, every compliment was truly to his benefit. In a world where wealth was distributed equally, he h
ad appropriated the only thing that was truly unique and valuable: an Earthling. Even though he only possessed me for one day, he reveled in the glory of the moment. I wasn't the star. He was.

  Once I'd figured out his intentions, I found the game easier to play. He wouldn't hurt me or increase my distress as long as I performed as a flamboyant flag indicating the location of his majesty. He only wanted me to look pretty and submissive. I could do that.

  After watching me take forever to kneel and lower the tray onto the table, Lodel ordered me to stay in that position so he could feed me while he ate and chatted with his friend.

  At the end of our lengthy meal, he helped me to my feet, and, without a word, led me to the bathroom. When I realized he would have to assist me, my old fears returned. I stopped walking.

  "I'm sorry. I can't," I whispered, hoping for mercy.

  "Oh yes, you can."

  Horrified, I stood helpless while he hitched up the dress to my waist to allow me to sit.

  "You've already broken one rule, Megan. Don't break another one. Relieve yourself."

  But that was nothing compared to the shame of being caned in the middle of the cafeteria.

  "Three times," Lodel said out loud so everyone could hear him, "because you broke the rule of silence."

  The caning wasn't cruel; it left deeper marks in my mind than on my bottom. But I stood corrected and wouldn't say another word until the day was over.

  When both of us had calmed down, we returned to Skeda, the entertainment deck. We first walked through the park, which gave us an additional thrill. I had always assumed that a submissive should walk behind her or his dominant, as a sign of respect or humility. Walking in front was more disturbing. I couldn't hide, nor look at Lodel for reassurance. I was on my own, not knowing what he was doing or whether he was still behind me. Of course people saw me first and stared a long time before they moved their eyes to the person following me. Again, I was the vibrant standard heralding the monarch. One thing could be said about Lodel: he was not easily deterred.

  I finally ducked under the broad willow tree, bringing a series of discomforts to my sensitive parts, and we entered the Twilight by the main entrance. Walking through the plaza, we headed for the Cabaret.