PaganWriter

Part Three Three weeks had passed since Kirsty’s labia had been punctured with her ten grommets and rings and they had healed well, with constant ministrations from Matron and some slaves. The grommets had been regularly treated with salves and ointments and there was little pain left; the redness had died down and Kirsty was a lot more comfortable. Shaving down there was a difficult and tedious affair now, but with help from other slaves it was possible to do a clean job. The rings through the grommets gleamed and when Kirsty walked they chimed and clattered together; Kirsty was not going to sneak up on anyone anytime soon. All her rubber suits had been modified to ensure that her cunt and rings were always visible. ...

Part Two ML said nothing more that afternoon, she had just pressed her lips once more to Kirsty’s then walked off. Kirsty wondered about what she had heard. Was My Lady really to become a Madam and if so, how had that come about, and more interestingly, why now? Where did this leave Kirsty? While she realised she could have no friends here, she needed someone to relate to even if they were superior to her; which of course everyone was. Was ML just playing a game or did she have a thing for her. She thought ML was about providing for her but now it seems SHE had been provided FOR her. Was this the real reason she had been invited along, to be someone’s personal slave? Kirsty had assumed she was to be a general purpose dogsbody with no decisions to make, a human robot to be instructed to do anything by anybody but with no will of her own. ...

Part One Arrival The car with the blacked-out windows had been waiting for her when she left the station. A chauffeur in a dark uniform opened the rear door for her after confirming her name, Kirsty Rackham; he said nothing else. She got in, the door closed and lights came on enabling her to see the sumptuous leather seating. The windows were blacked-out and there was an opaque panel that prevented her seeing the driver or where they were going and the only thing in the rear seat was a current national newspaper which Kirsty glanced at during what she guessed was a journey of about forty minutes. She knew only her destination railway station but nothing more about the establishment to which she was headed. She was acutely aware that the whole journey to this point had been carried out with her wearing only a short coat and a pair of shoes and any breeze reminded her of her newly shaved privates. With her attractive face and blonde, bobbed hair, her fairly obvious lack of clothing and court shoes, she met with many sideways glances from newspaper-reading businessmen and disapproving women during her journey; it was a relief to be in the relative safety of the car. This was how she had been ordered to travel and, with trepidation, she had carried out the instructions to the letter. ...