This story is set on Xylae, an alternate world with a slave-owning society which has featured in other stories of mine, including ‘Home Shopping’ , ‘Changing Clothes’ and ‘The Slave Dreams’ . Superficially more primitive it is a planet where technology has developed differently to on Earth and Xylaean capabilities in fabrics, crossing dimensions and mind control far exceed those on Earth. However, rather than being about slaves coming to Earth this story explores the fate of a naive woman new to the court of Princess Dalia. I am always interested by how someone is dressed can affect how they think, and in this story it is what Jemima wears that begins to move her mind into being that of a slave. As a consequence, the induction is fast, so sorry to those of you who prefer something more protracted.
Jemima waited at the edge of the cloisters. She had only been at court for a few weeks, and it was all still exciting. She had come from the provinces as a lady-in-waiting to Marchioness Arasan, and the capital was still a bewildering place.
"There you are." It was Lucinda, a slightly older lady-in-waiting in the Marchioness's house. "Her lady, said that we should go in. She is eager that you miss nothing of the proceedings, things are taking a little longer than she expected but she will be along soon."
"Yes." Jemima said, uncertain what to do next.
"Come on, we will go through the gardens." Lucinda suggested. "You have not been this way before have you?"
"No." Jemima replied and followed her through the formal garden, then they passed into an area of higher hedges and small alcoves with plush sofas under little awnings. They came across a junction where different paths met. There were cages on marble plinths around it. One held a woman.
"Look, a nubile." Lucinda said, pulling Jemima to a halt in front of the cage.
Jemima looked at the woman, she seemed so exotic, she was dressed in a skin-tight glossy catsuit, and thigh length boots, she was dancing erotically, sighing gently.
"I bet it is your first time seeing one up close."
"Er, yes." Jemima stuttered embarrassed.
"Our lady and her set do not own any, but many of the houses do. I have heard that all their thoughts are concerned with sex, servicing their masters and mistresses." Lucinda explained. She took Jemima's hand. "Touch her, there's no harm, you will not believe what that gloss feels like."
Jemima self-consciously let Lucinda touch her fingers to the gloss of the sex-slave's boot. As she did she felt a tingle run through her.
"See?"
"Yes." Jemima said entranced. The nubile looked down at her, and Jemima felt it difficult to look away, surprised that someone could be so different, so exotic, in a cage like a pet. She had a lot to learn at court.
"Come on, or we will be late." Lucinda said pulling Jemima on, now her interest had flitted to something else. They both entered the large court chamber and Jemima and Lucinda found places near the back of the crowd of courtiers but had a reasonable view of where the proceedings would happen. The courtiers hushed as Princess Dalia entered and took her place on the throne, on the raised dais. She wore black silk jodhpurs and a matching cropped jacket. At either side stood her Vizier Baltan Tark, and her Chief Slaveress, Li. Tark wore voluminous brocaded clothes like most of the courtiers; Li was in her distinctive quilted red leather, skin-tight trousers, long boots and a jacket like the princess's.
The court waited silently as Dalia looked down her list of proclamations for the day. It appeared short and Jemima wondered if there would be some entertainment laid on as she had heard was the custom when there was little formal business.
"Lady Jemima Arabel d'Aceranis." Dalia spoke clearly. At first it did not sink in, then as it registered, Lucinda pushed her forward eagerly. Jemima flushed, realising that she was being summoned for a direct audience with the princess. The courtiers around her made way and Jemima walked slowly past them and out on to the open floor of the court. She approached the dais and bowed, her eyes kept down.
"Jemima d'Aceranis?" Dalia confirmed.
"Yes, your highness." She croaked nervously.
"There are serious charges laid against you." Dalia continued after a moment.
Jemima looked up suddenly, shocked, not daring to speak.
Dalia continued. "The charges are of conspiracy to treason."
Jemima's mind buzzed with thoughts. She could hardly believe it was real. She felt sure she had fallen foul of intrigues at court.
"Obviously the penalties are harsh, but in this case there is little evidence and I tend towards leniency. I think the best policy is ensure your loyalty. You are loyal to me?"
"Yes, your highness." Jemima replied quickly.
"Good, then you will surely relish what I am ordering. It will show your utmost loyalty and obedience." Dalia paused as the court waited entranced to hear what the order would be. "You will be relieved of your duties to the House Arasan and stripped of your title. Furthermore you will be stripped of your family and given name and will become my property."
"Yes, your highness." Jemima stuttered, not really recognising what it all meant.
"Wait, there is more, you will clearly need a role here. You will be transformed into a nubile, with only one name, your collar name, Syra." A hushed whisper ran through the court.
"Yes, your highness." Jemima said numbly. She knew little of the nubiles. Before her encounter with one a few minutes before, she had only seen a few on the streets.
"Then your thoughts will only be concerned with the matters of sex, rather than the affairs of state." Dalia joked, and the court responded with polite laughter.
"The order comes into effect immediately."
Jemima was about to reply 'yes, highness' once again when she heard a voice beside her say, 'yes mistress'. Jemima turned, startled at the sound, and saw two sex-slaves, one each side of her. Their skin-tight gloss looked so different to the billowing golden-brown of Jemima's costume and broad hat.
"Yes, mistress." Jemima said, and as she did, her body felt a tingle. She realised that this was the start of her change into something very different from the timid courtier she had been. Her body and her mind were no longer her own, but the property of the princess.
"Take her to the slave stables; bring her back when the change is complete."
"Yes, Mistress." The two nubiles responded and began guiding Jemima from the court. As they did she watched entranced as the rubber rippled and squealed to their every move, as they strutted in their thigh length boots. Their whole shapely bodies were shown in the gloss, from their erect nipples to their tightly bound bums, swaying sexily as they stepped. Jemima could not believe she could become like them, so erotic, so servile. She knew she would return to the court a very different woman.
The two women took Jemima into a part of the court she had never visited. She was led into a large circular room. Li was already there seated in a bowl chair. Close to her was a stand from which hung a glossy catsuit and below it were a pair of thigh length boots. Jemima's throat went dry as she realised that they were meant for her. She kept telling herself that it was some kind of test, but her gaze was fixed on the gloss and her thoughts kept going back to the women beside her.
Li stood and walked towards Jemima, her leather creaking as she did. She strutted around Jemima getting a good look at her.
"You will make a good nubile Syra, I am sure."
Jemima hesitated not knowing what to say. Li was using the name that Dalia had given her and it made her feel strange, as if her identity was being changed.
"Get out of those silly clothes. Put on your gloss." Li said, encouragingly.
Jemima hesitated, and stood there, not removing her clothes.
"You have to change Syra, your body is the property of your mistress." Li explained. "She decides how it is dressed. She has ordered that you become a nubile, sex-slave. You must ease into your gloss, your catsuit and boots, so people can see you are a nubile and nothing else; so that your body is visible, accessible and erotic."
Jemima did not move, she looked at the two women beside her, still not believing she was to become like them. As a lady-in-waiting she had never exposed her body in public, even her form was hidden below voluminous robes. As a sex-slave in shiny, clinging rubber, every contour would be visible and flaunted. Her nipples would strain against the gloss, erect for all to see. She had noticed the pussy slits too, allowing her mistress or whoever she chose, direct access to her sex, just by easing down a zip.
Li nodded to the other two women, "Lilith, Cynan."
They snatched off Jemima's hat and grasped her robes and suddenly pulled them off over her head, quickly followed by her underslip. Cynan bent down provocatively thrusting her glossed bum up as she untied Jemima's shoes. Jemima stood passively as it all happened and watched, trying to cover her naked body as her fine court clothes were discarded.
"Those are not your sort of clothes, Syra." Li said. She stepped forward, dabbing her gloved fingers into a pot of oil. Suddenly she reached down and smeared the oil over the lips of Jemima's sex. Startled Jemima reached down and Li laughed as she quickly rubbed some more onto Jemima's nipples. She stepped back as Jemima began to feel a tingling sensation where Li had touched.
"Just a little lauxe oil to help you change, help you yield to your body's urges like a proper sex-slave, Syra."
Slowly the sensation grew as the oil took effect. Jemima felt increasingly as if someone was gently licking her breasts and pussy. Within moments her breasts were erect and so was her clit. She tried to concentrate, to keep control. She was speechless and she felt the urge to grunt and moan. That startled her, she realised that Li was turning her into a sexual animal, here she stood naked as her body's urges overwhelmed her mind. Jemima barely noticed when Cynan took down the glossy catsuit and brought it to her.
"Here is your catsuit, Syra." Li said. Jemima shuddered as she saw it, unable to believe she would soon be wearing it.
"If you don't want it say so and I will return you those boring clothes." Li lied.
Jemima tried to speak, but her throat was dry and she felt a thrill. She recognised a new desire within her, as the effect of the lauxe oil faded. A real curiosity to ease into the gloss, to feel what these women felt, to be so explicitly, so undeniably erotic, so unlike her former self.
Lilith stepped closer. "Ease into it, become one of us." She said enthusiastically.
Li took the catsuit and stroked the slippery interior between Jemima's breasts and down between her thighs. Jemima could not hold back and grunted. She was helpless as she felt Li and Cynan guide her legs into the gloss. She was panting, speechless as first one arm and then the other was eased into the rubber, and they, like her legs, were covered in the black shine, showing every contour. Finally the zip was eased up, pulling the gloss squealing, to cling tight to her body. Her body from neck to ankle was covered in a shiny second skin. Moments later she felt her legs being slid into their thigh boots and she rose on high, sharp heels. Jemima could not believe how quickly she had gone from wearing shapeless courtier clothes to the skin-tight gloss of a sex-slave. She took a few tentative steps, and the gloss rippled around her. She could feel her whole body caressed by the slippery gloss, stimulating her with every small movement she made.
"Excellent Syra," Li said, "you look perfect."
"Just a few more details." Lilith said, and Jemima let her guide her into a chair. In the next few minutes her long loose hair was transformed into a shaggy cut. Then her ears were pierced to hold three silver earrings each, and a matching stud was added to her nose. Lilith painted her lips, cheeks and eyelids, but did not let her see herself in the mirror until it was complete. Instead Jemima gazed down at the glossed thighs of her lap, not believing how the shine caught the light. She looked curiously at the zip which was all now that covered her pussy. Finally Cynan gave her a pair of long glossy gloves which Jemima eased on herself, completing her dress as a nubile. It was all as if she were feeling it in a dream, but then she would realise that it was her naked body which was clad in the squealing gloss, and now wore the clothes and jewellery of a sex-slave.
Jemima stood as she was directed and Cynan turned the full mirror round. Jemima breathed in sharply seeing the image of the nubile before her, how her whole body was shown in the gloss, erotic and available. It was only as it reflected her own movements that she realised it was what they had turned her into. She remembered what Li had said about wearing the gloss so people could see she was a sex-slave and nothing else. If she had passed herself on the street the way she appeared now, she would have not given any second thought to that what she was seeing was a nubile.
"The last thing which makes you your mistress's property, which makes you a nubile, Syra." Li said as she clipped a glossy collar around Jemima's neck Jemima’s body shuddered with the sensation, and she gasped breathlessly. Since coming to Li she had felt passive, as if there was nothing she could do to fight the change, but somehow now she knew that with the collar she had lost her own will, she would never make decisions for herself again. The skin-tight rubber she wore, but particularly the collar showed she had been changed and somehow, unexpectedly, Li had eased her mind into being that of nothing bar a sex-slave. With the collar locked to her, now Jemima knew she was owned, she knew her body and mind were someone's property. She knew the transformation was irreversible. She would wake tomorrow as a sex-slave, Syra. Her former identity had been erased as the collar had been put on. There was no longer any Jemima Arabel d'Aceranis. It was not a case of letting people call her by another name, she was that woman, she was Syra, a nubile.
Li thanked Cynan and Lilith and they left. Syra stood waiting to be ordered. Li reached forward and clipped a glossy leash to her collar.
"Follow." Li said, and Syra walked on behind her, strutting on her high heels, her bum swaying as she did.
Li did not lead her back through the court, but out into the street. If she had expected her new slave to shy away, to be embarrassed, she was wrong. Syra strutted like the nubile she was, aroused by the fact that people looked at her as nothing more than she was, a sex-slave with her body on show in public. Whereas Jemima would have felt humiliated, Syra thought nothing of it, nothing of being leashed, being led, gloss-covered as a nubile because that was what she was. It pleased Li, Dalia had been right, and Syra was of more value to the princess as a grunting sex-slave than as another timid courtier she had been.
Seeing Marchioness Arasan hurrying along the street to the palace, Li stopped, feigning interest in a market stall as Syra stood idly at the end of her slack leash.
The Marchioness bustled up in her scarlet robes. "Jemima what has happened to you?"
Syra did not respond.
"Answer me, Jemima?" She sounded less certain.
"i am Syra." She said simply.
"What have they made you into?" The Marchioness asked incredulously as she recognised Jemima's voice.
"i am a nubile."
Smiling Li turned to round. Recognising her the Marchioness stepped back a little, guarding Lucinda and the other two ladies-in-waiting behind her.
"This slave is the property of Princess Dalia. She was transformed on her order." Li explained.
"I will appeal, I will get you turned back." The Marchioness said.
"i am a nubile, Princess Dalia's property." Syra said, remembering the pleasures she had felt in the past half-hour and the pleasures to come.
The Marchioness was stunned. She let Li bid her good day and lead Syra on her way. Soon they were back at the court which was still in session. Syra was taken over to the silk cushions at the side of the chamber where the sex-slaves reclined. Few of the courtiers even noticed her, assuming she was just another of Li's nubiles, nothing else, and had no connection with the lady-in-waiting they had seen led off earlier. Only the Marchioness, with her party up in the gallery, paid any attention. The Marchioness was shocked when she was told what had happened, and regretted having sent Jemima on ahead, not knowing it would have made no difference.
Li removed the leash from Syra's collar. Syra lowered herself onto the cushions at the back where some of the sex-slaves lay resting. In front of her was a squirming mass of gloss covered bodies, kissing, stroking, licking each other, oblivious of the court. Syra felt eager to join them and slowly moved forward. As she did she realised that she was fulfilling what Dalia had said. Previously she had been fascinated by the court and its workings, now all her attention was on sex and being serviced by her fellow sex-slaves and doing the same in return. Li smiled, knowing she had released Syra into what was a further step in her permanent transformation. So far she had changed superficial things like her name, but Li was expert enough to know that the next few stages were crucial in finely adjusting Syra's assumptions and behaviour until she was truly a nubile and no-one, not even the Marchioness's party could change her back. Li knew that that was what Dalia's order had meant.
As the sex-slaves noticed Syra she was drawn enthusiastically into them. They made her recline on the cushions. Her pussy was thrust upwards. She gasped as she felt the fingers of a strong male slowly, teasingly unzipping her pussy zip as he had been instructed by Li. Syra also felt Cynan unzipping the rest of her catsuit, releasing Syra's firm shiny breasts so she could lick and stroke them. Syra abandoned herself to it, realising she was experiencing things she would soon be doing to others. As the male's cock thrust in and out of her juicy sex Syra was brought to orgasm. She moaned and grunted like the sexual animal she had become, writhing in her skin- tight gloss. Then Lilith was gently stroking Syra's clit with her finger and then her tongue, lapping at Syra's juicy sex. Syra pressed her lips against Cynan's and her tongue licked hers. Syra responded, feeling a timeless pleasure as her body was stimulated. She came again into orgasm and then subsided, panting. Then it was Syra's turn. She lapped at Lilith's sex as she had shown her and continued guiding her with light moans until she too orgasmed. Finally Syra licked and teased the male's fat cock. His grunts told Syra she was doing well until he sprayed cum deep into her mouth and he stepped back, tired.
The sex-slaves subsided into more relaxed stroking and purring. Syra realised the court had been continuing whilst she had been indulging in pleasure, but it was no longer her concern.
"Syra." She heard her name called and snapped to attention without thinking. She was not only erotic but obedient too. She rose, zipping up her catsuit. She strutted from the sex-slaves' cushions into the main part of the court.
A whisper went around the court as the crowd realised who this sex-slave had been, and could see from the cum which was still fresh on her gloss that the lady-in-waiting had become a working sex-slave.
Syra stopped where Jemima Arabel d'Aceranis had stood an hour before. She stood proud on her sharp heels, her gloved hands resting on her gloss bound hips, every feature of her body clear in the skin-tight catsuit. Some of the younger ladies-in-waiting excitedly wondered if indeed they could be transformed the same way if they were seen to be in error.
"State who you are." Dalia ordered.
"i am Syra, one of your sex-slaves, Mistress." She replied, provoking another bout of discussion.
"Come lie at my feet." Dalia commanded and Syra strutted to the dais, her gloss squealing as she moved. She abased herself like a slave, the way no lady would do. She lay idly at her mistress's feet, as oblivious to the court as much as Jemima would have been acutely aware of it. She purred as her mistress casually stroked her glossed body. She had indeed become a symbol of total loyalty and obedience, property of her mistress. Any conspirators in the crowd pondered on what could become of them or their women.
The session was soon over and Syra was leashed again, this time by Dalia herself. She was led to Dalia's private chambers and ordered to recline on silk cushions. Dalia disappeared into her closet and returned dressed in skin-tight black leather trousers and a matching bustiere which showed off her firm breasts. She strutted in knee-length boots back across the room. She stood for a moment looking Syra over.
"Clearly I should send my slavers to Arasan more often." Dalia said. "They must have missed you. You were probably already on your way here to the capital, to be an uptight lady-in-waiting. However, it is sweeter to have you transformed here. To have you changed from a fawning courtier into an obedient sex-slave."
"Yes, Mistress." Syra said.
"There is no need to speak, just purr." Dalia commanded and Syra obeyed. "Just like the sexual animal you are. There is one test to see if you are a true nubile and not just a courtier dressed up." Dalia smiled, wishing the Marchioness could see how her former lady-in-waiting could obey.
"Orgasm." Dalia commanded.
Syra did not know whether it was the rubber she wore, her collar or something else, but on her mistress's command her whole body was run through with pleasure. Her breasts strained against her gloss, she was loose and flowed with juice, her clitoris was rigid. She shuddered and moaned, grateful her mistress had made her so erotic. As the pleasure subsided Syra lay back panting. She knew she was a nubile, even if she or anyone tried to deny it. She had been transformed more than she realised. Her thoughts were filled with ideas of pleasure and obedience, little else.
"Excellent. I was keen to make you into someone who would be unable not to offer yourself to me sexually, and I have succeeded." Syra knew it was true, her whole personality was now totally obedient, totally erotic, and there was nothing she could do about it. "And now I have every young lady-in-waiting wondering if I will do it to her. As she bows before me she will be wondering if my next order will have her enslaved in gloss bondage, lapping at my clit like you."
Dalia unzipped her leather trousers exposing her naked pussy. Syra did not have to be ordered. She crawled across the cushions to her mistress. She ran her tongue teasingly over Dalia's boot, then slowly up her leg, delighting as she heard Dalia's breathing turn to panting in anticipation. Syra’s tongue ran around the lips of her mistress's sex and then licked deeper. Already Dalia was starting to moan with pleasure as Syra stroked and licked her clitoris. Dalia shuddered, grunting loudly as she peaked in orgasm. She stood for a few moments savouring the pleasure, with Syra at her feet, delighting in how she had served her mistress.
"I will have you in a show cage in the gardens with another of my pets, performing, fucking. That will bring home the message, that I could own their minds, their bodies, their sex, like I own yours, totally." The thought gave Dalia a residual thrill and soon her clit was arising again. She stepped from the room, Syra waited for her order. Dalia returned with a buzzing two ended dildo stretching from her groin.
Dalia lowered herself to the floor, and manoeuvred Syra so that she was on all fours, with her glossy bum thrust towards her mistress.
"As a sex-slave you will get your own vibrator for when the urges come, and they will..." Dalia trailed off as she unzipped Syra's pussy zip and eased the dildo into her already juicy pussy. Syra purred as she had been ordered to as her mistress fucked her. Dalia ran her hands over Syra's glossed body, teasing her erect breasts and stroking her shiny bum, reminding Syra that she was totally covered in gloss bondage. As the pleasure rose once more and her purrs turned uncontrollably to grunts, Syra knew that any remaining thoughts of being anything other than a nubile were fading away. The transformation had been more complete than even Dalia or Li realised. Syra knew she was nothing but a sex-toy and loved it. With that thought she moaned aloud and seconds later orgasm took her.
Dalia let Syra rest. She threw on a long flowing black silk robe which reached to the floor, over her leathers and put on a large matching hat. Syra zipped up her catsuit, pleased that her body was on show, not hidden beneath court clothes. Syra lay, cat-like on the silk cushions, stroking her own glossy body, awaiting her mistress's order.
"Stand." Dalia said. Syra obeyed. Dalia re-attached her leash and also handed her the vibrator she had promised, it was black and shiny just like Syra's gloss. Dalia showed her where to tuck it in the top of her boot.
"You may speak."
"Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress."
Dalia led Syra from the room. In the corridor stood another nubile, her leash held by one of Li's staff. Syra recognised the nubile as the one she had seen performing in the cage earlier and whose gloss she had touched. She would never have believed that she would become just like her, a sexual entertainment, or that she would get to toy with her, dressed in her own gloss at her mistress's command. In her former life she would have wondered if Lucinda would point her out to new ladies-in- waiting, dare them to touch the gloss of the nubile in front of them, a world apart from what they were. She did not realise that that was what Dalia wanted, because now, like any sex-slave all thoughts were subsumed below sexual urges as her eyes ran over her fellow sex-slave's smooth gloss covered contours and she thought of the pleasures ahead. Her mind had truly become one of a nubile.
"This is Tishten." Dalia said taking the leash of the other nubile. "This is Syra."
Dalia led her two nubiles like the pets they were, out of the palace and into the formal gardens. The two strutted on their high heels, watched by courtiers, a few of whom were there with their own sex-slaves. Syra knew Dalia still wore her leathers beneath her court robes and was sure her mistress would love to be locked in the cage with her and Tishten. Courtiers could become addicted to sex-slaves and use them constantly, but they were still different from the sex-slaves themselves, whose whole purpose was sexual pleasure.
Syra was moist as Dalia ran her hand over her glossed bum. No longer inhibited, Syra groaned out loud with the sensation. Dalia stopped in front of a cage and unlocked it. She unclipped the leashes from Syra and Tishten's collars. A few courtiers were already gathering to watch, but Syra and Tishten paid no attention.
"Step in, perform." Dalia ordered. The two nubiles stepped up into the cage. Within moments they were locked in, a show for all to see. Syra shuddered with pleasure then slowly began thrusting out her body. Tishten unzipped her pussy slit and Syra did the same. Soon both were lost in their movements stroking, rubbing, licking each others’ bodies, unaware of anything bar the stimulation and the squeal and ripple of the skin-tight gloss and their own grunts and moans.