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Subject: {ASSM} Life in the Harem (part 2) (BDSM, Ff, Mf, FemDom, MaleDom)
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(c) 2008 Sirsemega
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are either the product of the author's disturbed imagination and are
used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead,
undead or mostly harmless, business establishments, events, or
locales
is entirely coincidental.
If you enjoy it, please drop me an email at sirsemega@gmail.com

Life in the Harem part 2

Modern day harem life of slaves and their struggles for alpha slave
status.
Master is unaware of the intrigue and back stabbings that go on when
he is away from the harem between his sex slaves. Or is he?
Cast:
Calista: Lead character
Master: Master and owner
Sir Jon: Master's longtime friend
Lady Martha: Master's first wife
Lucinda: a very ambitious slave who takes an interest in Calista
Jacinta: Paired off with Calista, she too is a house slave
Mildred: Mother hen to the slaves, she is the eldest house slave
Jasmine: Arab slave girl who took over for Calista as greeter


PROMOTION

The next morning, a house slave awakened me and commanded me to come
with her. I was informed that my little Arab girl trainee was now
ready to do the tasks I had trained her to do on her own. I followed
the house slave past the main house to a small building set in the
wooded area. She knocked three times, and then opened the door and
brought me in. I was guided to a large room on the main floor and
placed in front of a table where sat five house slaves. I was allowed
to stand at attention, head back, chest thrust out, arms glued to my
sides, and my legs spread open in front of them.
"Slave," said the one in the middle. "You are here, because an opening
for a new house slave has become available, and we are to decide
whether you will be appropriate for the position."
I tried to hide any hint of excitement and joy.
Another one asked, "Do you wish to become a house slave?"
"I am a slave," I replied. "It is not up to me to wish or decide. I
will simply do as I am told."
They smiled. After a few moments, the house slave on the end, a dark
woman, held up and read from a piece of paper. "I have here, a
recommendation, from Slave Lucinda." She dropped the paper down and
stared at me. "She speaks quite highly of you."
"Yes, mistress," I replied keeping my head up and looking at nothing.
"We all have been keeping a close eye on you since you were logged by
Slave Lucinda." She continued. "Some of us had our doubts about you,
but we think that since then you have proved your worth."
"Yes, mistress," I replied.
"Besides," she continued, since we have the recommendation in writing
from Lucinda, then she will be most responsible for your failure...
should it come about." She smiled.
The others did as well. Lucinda had gone out on a limb for me. If not
for that, the others would most certainly have not given my potential
promotion any chance.

The house slave on the other end, a fat older woman, past her prime,
had a gentle gleam in her eye. "We all are responsible for her,
promoting her will not be on Lucinda's head only. Are you comfortable
with that Slave Shirley?"

The others were quiet as they waited for Shirley to decide. They were
taking a chance with me, just like they took a chance on anyone that
they would use to fill the position. Shirley seemed to be the
dissenter amongst the group, but at that moment, I also recognized
that her words held sway with the others.
After a minute of quite, Shirley nodded. "I am comfortable with this
choice, Slave Mildred."
"Vote," said Mildred, the old fat one on the end. "All in favor?"
They all raised their hands.
"Settled then," Mildred said. She smiled and picked up a file folder
with papers and photos in it. "Now to business. Slave, you have been
promoted to house slave. No longer will you live in the kennels. You
have earned the right to an outfit, and more importantly to a name. We
are known as the house council, and we decide what to name one of
ours. From now on you have the right to the name Calista." She paused.
I nodded, "Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress."
Mildred smiled.
"All house slaves before you are your highers. You will answer to
them. All house slaves that come after you will be your lowers. They
and the kennel slaves will answer to you. You are responsible for
correcting anything that comes to your attention. You have new duties
and tasks, new protocols to learn. You will be trained. All house
slaves have earned the right of their names, however they are still
nothing but slaves. Honor them by addressing them with their full
title: Slave Calista. Is that clear?"
"Yes, mistress." I said.
"You have a new stature now. You are not required to call any house
slave by mistress anymore. That title belongs to our superiors, the
Harem slaves."
Harem slaves? There was another group? Just how many people, sorry
slaves were on this estate, I thought to myself.
"Yes, Slave Mildred," I corrected myself.
"Good," said Mildred. The others began to rise to leave. "Slave
Jacinta, the one who brought you here will be responsible for your
training. She will dress you, and instruct you on what is expected of
you. We feel confident that you desire to do nothing but serve and
become the best slave you can be. That means doing what is asked of
you, the first time, every time. I trust we understand each other?"
She looked me directly in the eyes. I met her gaze, nodded and said,
"Yes Slave Mildred, loud and clear."
Her eyes were cloudy with age, how long had she been here, how long
had she been a slave? She was like the wise old den mother, the madam,
and she seemed to take pride in her role. They all had taken a chance
on me, and I vowed that they would not regret it as Slave Jacinta led
me to her new quarters, to be trained in my new life, in my new world.
The entrance to the main house was not to come for another two weeks.
The building where the council had taken place was also the training
quarters and housing for the house slaves. I was led upstairs to the
top floor attic and was shown a small Spartan room with a mattress on
the floor. A small wardrobe was the only other piece of furniture in
the room. Jacinta was Latin, but seemed to have more native Indian in
her than Spanish. Her face was pushed flat, and her course features
made her no real beauty. Her black hair was straight and proper. Her
eyes were spread wide apart and gave her an expression of simpleness.
What she lacked in facial features, she more than made up for it with
her body. She had perfect curves for a Latin woman in all the right
places, her ass had that Latin bubble butt, and her breasts were more
than ample. As I looked at her, I couldn't guess her age, she could be
as young as eighteen or as old as thirty five.

She opened the wardrobe and pulled out the latex wet dream of a French
maids outfit, handed it to me and bent over to pull the six inch black
patent heels out as well. Heels. It had been a long time since wearing
heels, and I was never really too surefooted with them. Never before
had I worn heels this high.
"You have two of these outfits," Jacinta said. "This way, you can
always have a clean one on hand if you become dirty or...spoiled."
I blushed and nodded imagining that cum would be more of an issue than
dirt would be for these outfits.
"It is your job to make sure that they remain clean. If anyone notices
you in disarray, that will be a failure." She paused. I tightened as
well. We both knew what failure meant.
Jacinta continued. "If you need help or are unsure as to what to do,
you may always ask another house slave for advice or help. We all are
here to help each other." She looked around, then leaned in and
whispered, "Some of use are not as helpful as we should be, so be
careful!"
She straightened up and continued. I took heed of her warning well.
Unlike the kennels, the house slaves had a little bit of power, and
with that power came an arrogance of abuse. I had already witnessed a
pecking order amongst them. Slaves like Mildred had languished in the
position of house slave for almost all their lives. Watching others
apparently getting promoted to higher positions. Politics. High
school. All the same.

Jacinta smiled as she saw me register what she had just clued me in
on. She then stroked my hair. "Your blonde hair is so pretty," she
said as she pulled me to her. "Your lips, so full! You are very
pretty." I smiled, allowed her to embrace me. I moved my hips over her
leg and ground my crotch onto her stocking leg. She pulled away like I
had hit her.
"No, no, no," she admonished me. "You are not allowed that yet."
I blinked, then sighed.
Jacinta pulled me to her again. "We have very explicit instructions
for you," she whispered. "Normally, at this point, house slaves are
allowed orgasm. It is as much for the trainer as it is for the
trainee." She pouted her lips.
"But it was instructed by Master himself that you are not to be
allowed an orgasm."
She shook her head at me, a tear welled up in her eye as she could
empathize with the frustration I had so far gone through.
"It is very rare for Master to be involved with a house slave. I have
heard of this happening before, and normally that means that Master
has something special planned for a slave. Whether that is good, or
bad, I cannot say. Rumors tell of one that Master sold to a very mean
Mistress, who locked their slave up in a chastity belt, and didn't
allow her one orgasm for the rest of her life."
I shuddered when I heard this. As it was, I could not remember the
last orgasm I had, and I certainly had not been allowed one since
becoming a slave.
Jacinta smiled, stroking my face, still in her embrace, she softly
said, "Please, Slave Calista, take my warning. Master does not wish
you to orgasm. If you cannot control yourself, tell us, we will help
you to stay away from failure."
I shuddered again at the sound of that word, and nodded.
"Now," she squealed. "It's time for you to get dressed!"

For two weeks I was trained. Jacinta worked me hard and long. Others
helped in my progress as well. All protocols were instilled in my
head. I would be in the main house soon. I would be in the presence of
guests, harem slaves, and my Master. I was coached on every situation
that might crop up. It was fairly easy, if anything happened, all I
would have to do is what I was instructed to do. Being the lowest of
stature, anything anyone told me to do, I would do. Protocol was what
Jacinta and the others worked with me on, how far down a curtsey
should go, how the table should be set, how to clean a room, dust,
mop, wash, fold laundry. How to great guests, how to pack and unpack
guests and Masters luggage. Everything a chambermaid was expected to
do, I was trained to do.

LUCINDA

Two days before my training finished, a commotion occurred downstairs.
Everyone rushed to see what had happened. In the main room, where the
council had met to decide my fate, stood Slave Lucinda, the slave who
had taught me my lesson so long ago. She held a leash attached to
another girls collar and was yanking it viciously. Lucinda was
Italian, olive skinned, dark hair, classic features. She was model
beautiful. Tall, strong, and lean. She wore dark red lipstick and
painted nails. She had an air of authority over the other girl, who
unlike Lucinda's French maids uniform, wore a smart sexy outfit,
transparent, slutty, and modern. This girl had a steel collar locked
around her, just like the rest of us. She was a red head, pale skin,
skinny, with freckles. She had one hand wrapped around the collar
between it and her neck, to ease the pain of Lucinda's jerking of the
leash.
"This slut here," Lucinda said, above the din of excitement. The
others hushed up, "was a harem slave." So that was one of them! I
thought.
"Her Master," Lucinda continued, "has grown tired of her and has
demoted her back to house slave."
There was a loud murmur as all the house slaves muttered to each
other. The harem slave looked around the room, surrounded by house
slaves. Her eyes were large like a hunted rabbit. Fear was in the air.
"She has been replaced..." Lucinda said. "By me!" and with that she
grabbed at the harem slaves dress and tore it way from her. The harem
slave shrieked. The other house slaves lunged towards her and stripped
her viciously. She gasped and tried to fend them off, but was soon
wrestled to the floor, where she was stripped, scratched and beaten.
She howled in pain and fury, as she was kicked to the corner of the
room. Slave Shirley now had a hold of the harem slaves leash, wrapped
the leash twice around her hand and "heeled' her next to herself. The
look of glee in Shirley's eyes, made me feel very sad for the poor
harem slave. In my short time in the household, I discovered that it
was wise to steer clear of Shirley. She was the most vindictive and
cruel of all the house slaves, and all others tended to fear her.

All eyes turned back to Lucinda, who now ceremoniously ordered the
house slaves to gently remove her house slave uniform. They were only
too happy to join in with the promotion of one of their own ranks to
the treasured status of Harem slave. For a moment, in all her regal
glory, Lucinda caught my eye. It was the first time I had seen her in
ages. She smiled with recognition and a sly grin followed that. There
was something she knew that no one else did, and she wasn't going to
share it.

Once her uniform was removed, a new outfit was produced. It was a red
spandex mini dress, that hugged all her curves. Partially see through,
she truly exuded sex now.
"Mistress Lucinda," said Mildred, the old fat house slave. She bowed
and all the others followed her lead. "I bid congratulations to you."
She came forward and kissed Mistress Lucinda's offered hand. The
others lined up and followed. When it came to my turn, Mistress
Lucinda stopped me from leaving.
"Welcome Slave Calista," she said warmly. "I trust you are doing well
with your training?"
I nodded. "Yes, Mistress Lucinda. I have you to thank for this
opportunity. I will never forget it."
She smiled that knowing grin again. "I will hold you to that," she
said, then waved me away. Soon afterwards, she left for the main
house, and never returned.

That evening, Shirley took it upon herself to show the former harem
slave what her new status was. The shrieks and wails coming from
Shirley's room made me thankful that Shirley had never focused her
"attention" on me. The next morning I saw that the former harem slave,
now seemed almost glued to Shirley's right leg. On all fours, she
followed Shirley around the house, with Shirley's hand firmly wrapping
up the slack from the leash. She was still naked, and had horrible
purple welts all along her body. She never uttered a word, looked to
Shirley for everything, and had a traumatized fear set deep into her
green eyes.

Later that day, a man came to the house and grabbed Shirley and the
former harem slave, leashing both of them together. He grabbed the
chain, and roughly dragged them out of the house. That was the only
time I saw Shirley, as strong as she was, as dominant as she was, as
cruel as she was, in total and absolute fear for her entire being. The
two of them never came back.

THE MAIN HOUSE

The time had come for me to join the main house. My training complete,
I was eager to finally see the inside of the large beautiful French
manor house. Jacinta was paired with me, and led me to the servant's
entrance around the side of the house. We came in through the
kitchens, where the small kitchen staff was preparing breakfast.
Mildred, as it turned out, was the head chef, she was busy ordering
the other house slaves in her kitchen to finish the meals. The others
scurried around, busily getting together plates and dishes, and the
cooked foods ready for serving. Jacinta and I waited off to the side
of the gleaming stainless steel and bleach white kitchen, out of the
way, until Mildred did one final inspection of the breakfast plates.
Satisfied that they were up to her standards, she beckoned us to take
them away for serving.

I followed Jacinta with a large tray of dishes of my own as we climbed
the stairs up to the main floor. The alcove at the top of the stairs
opened up to a large formal dining room. A spotless black and white
checkered marble floor supported a large, long solid oak dining table
that had room for at least twenty guests. Jacinta set her tray down on
an equally large oak buffet along the wall, and I followed suit. She
pointed out to me where the settings should go, and we quickly
finished setting everything out as a few guests wandered into the
dining room. Without a word, we backed up against the wall, and stood
perfectly still.
I was a bit nervous, and wondered if my outfit was straight. I fought
the urge to try to adjust myself, not wishing to draw any attention to
myself. As the guests seated themselves, Master strolled in and took a
seat at the head of the large table.
Dressed in a dark silk robe, Master stood at six foot, average to
muscular build, dirty blond hair and blue eyes. His rounded face was
smooth and ageless. He could easily be twenty-seven, but I suspected
he was closer to forty. He commanded the entire room with his
presence. So this was my Master, I thought to myself. I was both
scared and anxious of his notice. He had a boyish cuteness about
himself, and although I was trained to not follow my superior's
conversations, I did notice that he had a very jovial effect on his
guests, as they ate.
One of the guests beckoned me with his hand. I swallowed and strode
towards his left side, as I had been trained. It was Sir Jon, and he
was eager for some more coffee. The coffee pot sat in the middle of
the table, easily within his reach, however, when there are slaves
around, even the smallest task, can be relegated to them. I nodded and
reached towards the coffee pot, my body bending at the waist, and my
black latex maids' skirt, already too short, rode high up my bare
exposed ass, my garters and stocking tops revealed for all the guests
to see.
His hand, large and rough with calluses, quickly pawed my cheek, as I
stifled a yelp and tried to concentrate on grabbing the heavy coffee
pot and pour more coffee for Sir Jon, without spilling and without
moving my body away from his touch. A glace from the corner of my eye,
revealed, that Sir Jon, had continued his animated conversation with
Master and the rest of the guests, without paying me any attention,
other than idly kneading my ass. A warm vibration buzzed within my
loin as this man's touch rode over me and the idea that I was indeed
an object, to be used without mind or worry settled in. I focused on
finishing my task, and then placed the coffee pot back to its spot.
Now what?
For a moment, I panicked within myself, unsure if I should remain,
bent over the dining room table, with Sir Jon's hand stroking my ass,
or straighten up, and excuse myself back to my station. The
humiliation of being an object, exposed for the guests, as they
ignored me, got me excited. I remembered my training, and stayed where
I was. I was to do what I was told, or instructed, nothing else.

I waited in my position for a few more moments, when Sir Jon, released
his hand from my ass, and dismissed me back to my position with a
pulling motion. A bit flushed, I backed up to my position, and tried
to compose myself. After their breakfast, Jacinta and I cleared the
table, and quickly carried our laden trays back down to the kitchen. I
then followed Jacinta upstairs, this time taking the second flight off
to the side of the dining room alcove and traveled up to the second
floor. Presented with a hallway, rightly appointed in red carpet and
what I could only guess where antiques. Jacinta, knocked quietly on
the first door, waited a moment then entered. I followed to discover
that these rooms were the guest quarters, and our next task was going
about making up the room.

This room was empty, and looked to be occupied by one of the women who
had dinned downstairs for breakfast, as the vanity was filled with
various bottles of makeup, perfume, and creams. We changed the sheets,
bundling the dirty ones in a pile near the door, and pulling out fresh
ones from the linen closet. Master seemed to run a hotel out of his
main house, and with that the services that are expected from a fine
hotel, plus a few extra services!

The next room we entered, I was startled to find a man and a woman
still in bed. The older silver haired man beckoned us to come in and
do our cleaning duties while he continued to pay attention to his
guest. She was a dark skinned woman, stretched out on the bed, face
down. The covers and blankets had been pulled off the bed and lay in a
heap at the foot of the bed. I went over to take them, and crouching
down to gather them up, I discovered that the dark skinned girl on the
bed, was actually shackled to the four corner posts of the wrought
iron bed frame. She was panting, moaning even. Her face inches from
mine, as I caught a glimpse into her eyes, her face lying on its side.
The eyes were dull, exhausted, in pain. I imagined for a moment that
she had mouthed the words "Help me", but just then, the old grey
haired man, slammed his hand down upon her, and her face scrunched up
into a withered out moan.
"There, there," he softly caressed her. Her eyes rolled back into her
skull, as the tender damaged skin was being manipulated by the man.
"We've taken all night playing, just to warm you up." He continued.
Then hit her again. A deep moan emanated from within her, yet it never
reached her mouth.
"We still have all weekend, for the main course!"
Oh my god! I thought. She had been like this all night, and it was
only the prelude to his handiwork. I quickly pulled the sheets and
covers up and took them to the pile near the door. Jacinta worked
quickly, straightening up as best she could, all while this man,
continued to strike the bound stretched out dark skinned girl on the
bed. Her moans had turned guttural, animal.
I concentrated on the other side of the room, and came across a
folding case. It was like a fishing tackle box, only this one was
spread wide open with large stainless steel medical type instruments.
"You can leave that as it is," the voice startled me, as I pulled my
hand away from it like from a hot fire. I turned around, saw him fully
for the first time, and nodded in obedience. He had a gentle face,
almost grandfatherly. He sat in stark contrast to the dark skinned
woman stretched to the limit in her bounds on the bed. His posture was
of one with all the time and patience of the world, contrasted by the
prostrate dark skinned girl, exhausted, and anxious to get the
unpleasantness over and done with. He stared humming a tune as he
picked up a new instrument of torture. Adjusting it, he then proceeded
to insert it into her rectum. The dark skinned girl tensed and
strained at her bonds. A small whimper exited her pert mouth, along
with a line of droll that added to the pool on the sheet under her
head. We quickly finished up and left for the next room.

A NEW BOSS

That evening, the vacuum of power left by Shirley's departure, began
to right itself as Jacinta and I were accosted by Slave Stella, a red-
headed house maid with a teen aged spoiled bitchy face. "Bitches!" she
screamed at us, grabbing hold of both of our hair. "Get the fuck in
here!" Dragging us into the main room, she dropped both of us down in
a pile on the floor. She towered over us, still in her patent pumps
and maids uniform, she threatened in her most intimidating voice, "Now
that Shirley is gone, I'm in charge!"
Jacinta nodded, I was a little slow, not comprehending what she meant.
WHACK! WHACK!
She slapped me across my face. Both my cheeks burned. I was
dumbfounded.
"Seeing as you're new here," she explained. "Let me make this clear."
She bent down and grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked my head
around, twisting it evilly until I stared right into her cold brown
eyes.
"I'm in charge when Master isn't around. Alpha slave here." She spat
in my face.
"You do what I say, when I say bitch, or else you'll wish you've never
been born! Got that?" she was inches away from my face.
I nodded.
"What?" she prompted, tugging further on my hair.
"Yes, Slave Stella!" I gasped.
WHACK! WHACK!
She slapped me again. "Bitch! It's Mistress to you! Now do you
UNDERSTAND?"
"Yyy..eesssss!" I managed to stutter out.
She smiled, well her mouth smiled, the rest of her face remained cold,
and impassioned. The look scared me. From somewhere I know not, she
pulled out a leash; quickly clipping it onto my collar she tugged me
out of the room, up the stairs and into her room.
Slamming the door, she threw me to the ground.
"Oh yes, my little pretty! You may be special, but there's been plenty
of you before. We can't let you think just because you've been
flagged, that you are more than a worthless, pigslut whore of shit
slave. You are no fucking better than me!" She screamed.
What was she talking about? Flagged? I knew I had been logged for my
one discretion, but I was sure she was talking about that.
She pulled out a large wooden paddle from her wardrobe, a look of joy
in her face appeared as she ordered me to assume punishment position.
I was shaking as I knelt in the center of the room, prostrated myself,
my ass in the air, my arms stretched out before my head, my face
pressed to the floor.
There was no warm up. There was no warning. There was no word from
her, just a horrendous crack from the wooden paddle. Wooden bat would
be more appropriate as I howled in agony from the first blow. A second
crack issued from the paddle, my other cheek was now aflame in pins
and needs of pain. Ten blows later, I was bawling like a baby, trying
to catch my breath as tears and snot emptied out of my face from
everywhere.
"Look at you now, little slut!" she paused as she grabbed a hold of my
leash again and dragged me towards her bed. Sitting on the edge, she
drew me in so that my face was pressed up against her crotch. She had
lifted her miniskirt to reveal her bare pussy. Already the lips were
parted, her juices were flowing from the beating and excitement of
power.
"Let's see how high and mighty you are after I'm through with you,
shit!"
She brought the paddle down hard on my ass again. I screamed, by was
cut short by her yanking the leash and pulling my face into her pussy.
"Lick it, skank! When Master isn't here, I own your ass! You do what I
say, when I say! Lick it, and you better get me to come in the next
two minutes or else I'll skin your ass!"
She brought the paddle crashing down on me again. The pain was
unbearable, yet the fear of missing the imposed time limit was
incentive enough for me to focus on my mistress's task. I licked for
all that I was worth. I tried to block out the pain, but the
percussion of the beating kept me off balance with my lick and
sucking.
Mistress started to stiffen, her regularity with the blows from the
paddle decreased. Her pungent orange aroma became toxic as it filled
the room, filled my lungs and filled hers. She dropped the paddle mid
swing, locked her legs around my head and groaned. Now I only wondered
if I had gotten her off in time. I continued licking, gently now,
afraid to stop as mistress had not told me to stop.
"Nice work, piss drinker," she said, regaining her composure, She
grabbed the paddle and landed another blow on my ass. I wailed into
her pussy, still trying to lick it, hopeful for some reprieve. "Now as
to not be called a liar, I have a surprise for you!" I wondered what
she meant for a moment, until I felt the trickle of fluid coming from
her. A stream of piss came out of her as she mashed my mouth over her
pussy and proceeded to give me my first drink of her piss. Strong and
acidic, I managed to gulp down all of the fluid from my mistress. She
sighed for a moment, then pushed me away. I looked up at her, my face
a wet mess, makeup running, waiting for her next command. I tested my
feeling in my ass cheeks by shifting my weight onto it. That was a
mistake as I winced in pain and rolled onto my calves instead for
support.
She stood up, stared down at me and smiled. "Now bitch, undress your
mistress!" I quickly stood up and went to her.
"This will be your duty from now on, my little cunt. Every night, you
will present yourself to your mistress and beg her to have the
pleasure to undress me."
"Yes, mistress." I said as I went to take off her outfit. She slapped
my hand away. Confused, I stopped and looked at her. She wheeled
around and slapped me again in my face.
"Cunt! What is your task?" she demanded. She slapped me again.
"To present myself to my mistress every evening and beg her for the
pleasure to undress her." I repeated.
"Well?" she prodded.
I got the hint, knelt before her and said, "Please mistress Stella,
may this slave..."
"Unworthy cunt of a slave!" She clarified.
"May this unworthy cunt of a slave," I corrected myself, "have the
pleasure of undressing mistress Stella?"
"I think," she added, "since you love this paddle so much, that you
should beg to be paddled before I would even consider granting the
privilege of undressing me, don't you think so, cunt?"
I swallowed. The paddle was so far one of the worst punishments I had
taken, and I was not eager to experience it again. Yet now mistress
was demanding that I beg for it every evening before I would be able
to go about my task of undressing her.
"Well, cunt?" she said as she smacked the paddle down on my raw ass
again.
I hesitated.
"Oh, I know what torture you are going through, slave. Remember this
lesson well, cunt!"
I gritted my teeth, "Please mistress, please paddle me before..."
WHACK! Another blow from the paddle. "Me?" she prompted.
I started again, begging for the worst pain I had received, begging
for more, begging to have it every night, begging for something I
dreaded already, and wished to never experience ever again. But I was
a slave, what I wanted had no matter on anything anymore.
"Please mistress, please paddle this unworthy cunt of a slave before
this unworthy cunt of a slave begs you to allow her to undr..."
WHACK! "Her?" she interrupted.
"Please mistress, please paddle this unworthy cunt of a slave before
this unworthy cunt of a slave begs you to allow this unworthy cunt of
a slave to undress you for the evening."
There, I had done it, completed it!
She grabbed my face. "You are to refer to yourself in this way among
all the other house slaves, understand?" She had just taken away my
right to be called Slave Calista. The name I had worked so hard to
earn. The bitch! How could she?
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! She paddled me three times as I screamed, "Yes,
mistress! I understand!"
"Good," she said. "Now as far as the paddling, assume the position,
please!"
I groaned, and crawled over to the middle of the floor, assuming the
punishment position again. After fifteen more blows, I was mad with
pain. My eyes couldn't focus, I couldn't stand, I could barely breath.
Mistress placed the paddle in front of my face. "Kiss it, cunt! Thank
your lovely paddle for taking the time to give you that which you so
begged for!"
The damn infernal instrument! It was bad enough the pain it gave me,
now the bitch wanted me to kiss it! Mocking me, she held me in her
power. I was helpless to do anything other than what she demanded. I
kissed it.
"Thank you, paddle, for taking time out to please this unworthy cunt
of a slave."
Mistress smiled, walked over to the wardrobe and waited.
I crawled over to her, knelt before her and started the second part of
my nightly task.
"May this unworthy cunt of a slave, have the pleasure of undressing
mistress Stella?" I said.
She waited, savoring the moment, then nodded. "Yes you may, cunt!"
I rose shakily onto my high heeled feet and slowly undressed her. The
top first, then the skirt. I hung each article up then went to the
next. I took her cap off, placing the hair pins in a bowl.
"Stockings next," she said and pointed to a spot on the floor next to
the bed. "Sit here, while you do that."
I groaned, knowing that I would be resting all my weight on my abused
ass, which was on fire. I sat and shrieked in pain. Mistress Stella
just laughed, as she proffered one leg, the next after I had taken her
heels off.
Once finished, she unclipped the leash from my collar, then embracing
me, she pushed my against the wall, grabbed both of my sore ass cheeks
and roughly kneaded them as she raped my mouth with her tongue. I
screamed into her mouth, which seemed to excite her more. Then she
opened the door and pushed me out into the hall. I had been excused
for the night.

 The next morning the purple welts had darkened to an almost black
hue. I had applied cream and ointment onto my ass after limping back
to my room. The pain kept me up all night long as I tried to find a
position that provided some sort of comfort. I cried almost all night
long, till my tears dried up. The humiliation and trapped feeling of
having to repeat this torture every evening, sunk deeply within my
soul. My body shook, reliving the thrashing I had been given, no that
I had begged to have. Now this groveling would have to be repeated by
this worthless cunt of a slave every night, at the mercy of mistress
Stella.

That evening I knocked at mistress Stella's door, head bowed, waiting
for her to answer it. The door swung open revealing mistress Stella,
latex maids' uniform still intact, with a wicked smile on her face. Oh
how she was cherishing this. I had heard from Jacinta that mistress
Stella had done the same thing to her only just this morning, putting
Jacinta in her place, and "assigning" her the task of dressing
mistress Stella each morning.

The two of us limped around all day, doing our chores, trying to
ignore the throbbing pain from our blackened asses. Jacinta, seemed to
be taking it a little better than I. She shrugged when I asked her how
she felt about it, simply stating that whatever was, was. She had no
control over anything, so why worry about it.

Without a word, mistress Stella stepped away from the entrance and
allowed me to enter. I went to the center of the room, knelt down,
assuming the correct position and then proceeded with my task.
"Please mistress, please paddle this unworthy cunt of a slave before
this unworthy cunt of a slave begs you to allow this unworthy cunt of
a slave to undress you for the evening." I begged. I hated it. I hated
asking for the paddling. That evil paddle, the very thing that I did
not want, mistress Stella enjoyed making me beg for.
She smiled, looked down at me, her heels and stocking legs beside me.
"I don't know cunt, I don't get the sense that you truly wish for the
paddle..." she mocked, the evil bitch.
I groaned inwardly, I hated every minute of it.
"Please mistress, PLEASE PADDLE this unworthy CUNT of a slave before
this unworthy CUNT of a slave begs you to allow this unworthy cunt of
a slave to undress you for the evening." I pleaded.
"Do you like the paddle, cunt?" she asked.
Sigh. "Yes mistress, this unworthy cunt of a slave likes the paddle."
"Ahh," she retorted. "You like, but do not love?"
I moaned. She relished this. She was pushing me farther.
"Yes mistress, this unworthy cunt of a slave loves the paddle. Please
use it on this unworthy cunt of a slave."
"Well, if you so insist, cunt!" she offered me the paddle to kiss. I
lifted my head up and kissed the hard solid wooden paddle. She walked
around behind me, and I awaited the first strike. My ass was still
black. She lifted my miniskirt. "Such a lovely color, cunt!" she
rubbed the paddle over the bruises and welts. I sobbed at the very
contact of it.
"Such a little painslut, you are," she hissed. "If this was my ass, I
would be begging to never be paddled again."
At that moment I really couldn't appreciate the irony of that
statement. She knew full well that she had forced me to ask for this.
This abuse that was the thing I wanted the least in the whole wide
world.
"But you," she continued. "After all the abuse, the damage done to
that poor ass, you want more. Who but a little painslut would beg for
more?"
She paused. I guess she wanted an answer because she then added,
"Well? Who?"
"This unworthy cunt of a slave does, mistress!" I answered. So
fiendish, so diabolical. She truly was enjoying this.
"Well, painslut, since you have begged for it, although I don't
understand why you would want more abuse," she positioned herself to
strike. "I will be gracious and grant you your wish, cunt! But
remember that I am doing you a favor here, understand?"
Evil! Not only had she gotten me to beg for a punishment I did not
want, but now had made it seem like she was doing me a favor by
granting my forced request.
"This unworthy cunt of a slave does, mistress! Thank you mistress!" I
said. Then I screamed in pain as the first blow struck my tender ass.

A NEW ACCESSORY

No one came to my aid. Mistress Stella brutalized me every night for
weeks. After the first night she would go easy on me with the paddle,
till my ass healed just enough that the bruises were a light yellow.
The she would inflict brutal damage on them again. I think I went two
months without sitting because of the damage to my ass. She did the
same to Jacinta, so I had a partner in misery, at the very least. I
also became quiet adept at orally pleasing mistress Stella, as she
kept me kneeling before her, my face in her crotch, for hours after I
had been paddled and had finished undressing her. The whole act,
although I'm sure the paddling was most of it, made Stella extremely
wet and horny. As she corrected me and my technique, she verbally
humiliated me; the painslut cunt licker who was worthless for anything
else. I endeavored to do my best, and over time, the beatings she
administered me, and the names she called me, started to excite me.
She picked up on this and started to deny me the pleasure of the
paddlings, and the verbal abuse. Often she would refuse my begging and
pleading for the paddle, simply instructing me to undress her and
leave. She had no use for a painslut that got off on the paddle.
Leaving me empty, she would push me out of her room, leaving me to an
empty night. I had become so worthless that I didn't even earn the
punishment that I now yearned and craved for.

The tingle was becoming too much for me. My frustration level had
become so high, that I could no longer trust myself. I went to seek
out Slave Mildred. The motherly old woman. She was the best person to
make the request to, as I did not wish to show further weakness to
mistress Stella for what I was about to ask for.

I went to Slave Mildred's room and knocked lightly. She answered, and
brought me in. Remembering my new station that mistress Stella had
enforced I started, "This unworthy cunt of a slave needs to speak with
you Slave Mildred."
"Yes? What is it?" she asked. After the first evening of mistress
Stella imposing her new rules on me, I had been surprised that all of
the other slaves had accepted mistress Stella's renaming of me to
'this unworthy cunt of a slave'. It seemed that my newly earned name
had been replaced, without so much as a hint of objection from any
other house slave.
I continued.
"I have been..."
"I?" Slave Mildred asked? She was correcting and reinforcing mistress
Stella's commands. I started over.
"This unworthy cunt of a slave has been told that Master does not want
it to orgasm."
"That is correct," she said.
"This unworthy cunt of a slave is unsure if it can stop itself, and
humbly is asking for assistance."
Mildred smiled and took me into her arms and hugged me. I broke down
and sobbed in frustration, in pain, in humiliation. Everything came
crashing down. I was useless, worthless, and helpless. I couldn't even
control my sexual urges, my animal instincts, they threatened to undo
me. I needed help, and only now admitted it to not only Mildred, but
to myself.
She shushed me, and we stood there for a very long time, until I was
all cried out.
"We will help you," she said and taking my hand she lead me downstairs
to a small closet. Rummaging through it, she came out with a metal
rounded contraption. I saw a tag hanging from it, like an old price
tag, and saw my name on it: Calista.
Slave Mildred led me to the main room, there were still a few house
slaves around, and when they saw us and what Mildred held in her hand,
they perked up and started watching.
Mildred had me strip to the nude in the middle of the room, in front
of everyone. She then put the contraption onto me, one leg at a time,
I stepped into it, and she raised it up to my crotch. Making some
adjustments, she finally positioned it completely over my sex. With an
ominous click, she shut the contraption of steel that wrapped around
my hips and through my legs. Now a metal shield covered my pussy, a
small hole allowed for exiting of my ass. A chastity belt had been
locked onto me! It fit snugly, obviously they had taken my
measurements as the belt was labeled with my name, and had sat in wait
for the appropriate time to be fitted onto me. Now trapped within it,
I examined it, felt around it and the seams. I tested it, trying to
pry a finger up and under it to no effect. I looked at Mildred with
wide eyes. Behind her the others watched in interest and amusement.
How many of them had been subjected to this?
"This, my dear," Mildred said. "will help you with your problem."
I whimpered in frustration and humiliation.
"It is no longer a question of willpower, now you have no choice in
the matter."
I nodded. She looked at me coldly, no hint of the den mother within
her.
I stiffened and corrected myself. Nods were not acceptable and that
was one habit that I truly had a hard time breaking.
"Thank you Slave Mildred, for helping this unworthy cunt of a slave
control itself!"
She smiled, turned around and went back to her room, leaving me naked,
in the center of the room, with nothing but a metal chastity belt and
locked up privates.

I had asked Jacinta what "flagged" meant. All she told me was that it
meant that she was not to be spoiled. No orgasm. No penetration was
allowed in her. She didn't seem to know if that was a good thing or a
bad thing, and suggested to me that I should concentrate on my chores
and servitude more that speculating on what my future might be. As a
slave, we had no future, no past, only the present. Things change
radically as I had witnessed like the harem slave that had been
demoted. One day she was one of the top slaves, cherished by Master,
used and loaned out by him. The next she was lower than a house slave,
abused by Slave Shirley. Shirley too had once been in power, only to
be taken, a petrified look on her face as she was dragged away in
shackles, the huntress had become the hunted in moments.

It must have been about six months that had passed when mistress
Stella was purchased by a business partner of Master's. She was
quickly shackled, a large red ballgag was buckled into her mouth and a
large dildo was shoved up her pussy, when her new owner took her away
from the house. He had also taken two other house slaves, to where, we
never knew. Always the rest of us were glad that we were not chosen,
and were allowed to stay here in Duquette Estate. Few stories came
back to us about a slave leaving this place and going to a better
existence. Although we had all witnessed what evil Master could do by
witnessing the failure in the cabin, the clients that would visit the
estate all seemed more singularly perverted than he did. Stories of a
slave kept in a dark closet, only to be freed briefly for abuse and
fucking, then locked back into the closet, were all too common. Most
of us realized that those slaves probably never lived out the year
where it was that they were taken, as we saw quite a few of the
clients returning every so often, to "replenish" their stock.

I wasn't sure how I felt about mistress Stella being taken. Now a big
void had entered my life as I realized that the attention and care she
had focused on me now was gone. The paddle that I now craved would not
be there for me to look forward to each night. On the other hand, as
soon as she left, I regained my name, as Slave Mildred made a point to
immediately address me as Slave Calista after mistress Stella had
left. Difficult as it was, I realized I was no longer the rookie in
the house slave building. Staying power had a way of promoting a slave
into a more alpha position. A power vacuum had once again been
created, and I was now secure in the knowledge that whoever filled
that, I would not be bumped back down to the lowest status again.

There was a certain cattiness that the other slaves exhibited while no
true alpha slave emerged amongst them. The closest that tried to
assume the position was an Asian dragon lady. She truly tried to
assume the dominant position, the trouble was she was small and
physically she could not back up her threats with some of the others
who took exception to her. She had a mouth on her that would make a
sailor blush, but she turned out to be all bark and no bite.

I followed Mildred's lead of motherly love and stayed out of the power
struggle. Somehow Mildred had survived longer than anyone else, and
although she wasn't the alpha slave, everyone looked to her for true
guidance and advice.


end part 2

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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