Domina

Friday, May 17, 2031

After the auction, Nicky and I were delivered to Edith Wagner's business, a rent-a-slave and mail order sex slave service known as Prime Servitude Rentals and Leases, Inc. If you had the coin, Prime Servitude would rent you an attractive slave for sex, harem, fetish, pornography, domestic service, statuary, modeling, or for any number of sexually themed events, just about anything your perverted little heart desired. Prime Servitude also sold slaves, mostly selects or some of the better looking standards, as concubines. If the price was right, the pussy was yours.

Standing before my new owner with my heart pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears and I was frightened to the point of trembling. I had no idea what to expect. As a category II slave, I was absolutely helpless. Being a category II slave meant that I could be subject to all sorts of painful corporeal discipline. Any number of excruciating punishments could be inflicted upon me at a whim. Ms. Wagner could even sell me to a bordello in another country or to a plantation or work camp for hard labor. The bottom line was that I was totally at Ms. Wagner's mercy.

Ms. Wagner could order me to make pornographic movies, pose naked for photos in embarrassing positions, have me perform fetishes such as bondage, ponygirl races, pet play, oil wrestling, sexy and demeaning contests, or force me to display myself naked in public and I'd have to obey. A few days ago I would have considered doing any of such demeaning public depravity as inconceivable but, now that I was a slave, it was about to become my daily lifestyle.

"Kneel slaves," Ms. Wagner ordered. We knelt.

"For the next 75 months of your life, I will be your domina." Although Ms. Wagner was a former customer of ours and knew us well, if she had any compassion for Nicky or I, Ms. Wagner hid it well.

Domina was a term reserved for the female owner of lots of slaves, dozens or more. A domina didn't usually manage the slaves; she usually managed the overseers and guards. To a slave, the domina was the boss of bosses, a position of supreme power, and a person to be feared.

"Let's get one thing straight right now, you're both category II's, so you're both subject to physical punishments. That means I don't have to put up with any of your crap. I can legally beat the shit out of you if I want to. I can make any day the worst day of your entire life with just a snap of my fingers."

As Ms. Wagner snapped her fingers, a female guard delivered a stinging blow to the bottom of my left foot with a rod while the male guard serviced Nicky's foot with a caning. Crying out in pain, I grabbed my foot. Any illusion I had that Ms. Wagner might treat us with empathy vanished.

"Around here we don't do things the right way; we don't do things the wrong way and we certainly don't do things your way. This is my business, you are my slaves, and around here we do things only one way, and that's my way, period. Whether it is right or wrong or whether you agree with it is not important."

As Ms. Wagner harangued us, one of the guards sat a metal box, like a metal fishing tackle box, on the desk and opened it. Inside were some alcohol swabs, lots of big needles in plastic tubes, the type used to in body piercing, latex gloves, alcohol swabs, forceps, clamps, and a lot of surgical steel body jewelry, mostly rings of different sizes, as well as studs, barbells, bent barbells, and body jewelry.

It was clear that the box was a body piercing kit, that Nicky and I were about to get punctured, and that our bodies soon would be festooned with surgical decorations. The only questions now were where I was about to be perforated and what jewelry was to be added to me.

"Remember, I am not only your domina, I am the law. Willful disobedience of my order is a crime that is punishable both by physical discipline and by a minimum of 30 days additional servitude. If you disobey me, I'll see to it that you additional time and I'll see to it that both of you get lots of pain. Now, stand up and take off your clothes."

I felt a blush of embarrassment redden my face as I undressed. It was bad enough that I was forced to be naked in front of these people but Ms. Wagner knew me, she was a former customer, and that seemed to make it worse. As Nicky and I stood up and stripped, the female guard removed forceps and alcohol swabs from the box as well as opening a couple of plastic tubes with body piercing needles. I had a really bad feeling about this.

"If you have a favor to ask of me, a complaint, or just want to make a comment, I've got one thing to say to you: shut the fuck up," Ms. Wagner said. "I'm not here to hear your crap. That's not what this is about. Let me assure you, this isn't about you. I'm running a business and you're just an asset. The only words I ever want to hear from either of you are yes domina. I want to hear you say it."

"Yes Domina." Both Nicky and I said.

"Good," Ms. Wagner, continued, "You both need to understand that you're mine. I own you. You're my property and you're going to do whatever I say without question and without argument."