Mistress Marisa's Estate Pt. 04

I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...

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"Butt's up ladies." She walks behind us, feel her slap my rear as she goes by. Muffled sound of her hand being brought up from beneath, hand-to-the-the-elbow full length black rubber glove catches the curve of my right cheek. I wince, keep it to myself, remain silent.

"Posture, princess, posture." She continues down the line.

All six of us bent forward in a painful half-bend, our hands restrained by stainless steel rubber padded cuffs behind out back, fastened each to a stainless steel chain hoist pulling our arms up off our backs as far as they will go, up toward the hoist track in the ceiling. There are another four empty places in this painful line but only six are required for tonight's gathering.

We are all completely naked, except for nail polish on fingers and toes. No makeup, just polished little feet and hands on each of us 'party' girl sissy boys. That, and bare naked baby soft and smooth bodies, we are to be 'cleaned'.

We are on a cold cement floor standing in a six inch deep trough that runs the length of the room. Directly behind us are toilets, stark, and prison like, metal with no seat. The hoist positions are laid out such that all The Matron has to do is lower the chains in unison and we are sitting on the toilets. This is as far removed from dignity as it gets, and is as close to deliciously wicked as it is nasty. It is sadistic and humiliating. And it is necessary preparation for Mistress Marisa's party.

We all have been here before, some like me many times, even without the gala tonight. I have been here prior to being sent to entertain one of your gentleman friends, many times before. Two of us are here for the second time. Trevor is struggling to not cry. The Matron won't tolerate that.

Everybody knows the rules. Squirm, whine, cry out, and get whipped way late tonight after our performance, maybe when returned after the auction bidders are through with us. But viciously whipped we will be if we 'cause trouble', as The Matron says. Stay still, be calm, we can get through this. It is for our own good. 'Nobody wants a dirty little party girl.', we are told over and over.

The Matron steps to the first one on the end to the right of me. She inserts the nozzle into his butt, pushes it up into his tiny hole. She is so careful not to damage us little 'showgirls', uses a deft and surgical touch. In less than five minutes we are filled and bloated to the point of discomfort with warm soapy water. We all move slightly on our toes, do our best to not let any of the cleansing liquid seep out, try our best to hold it all. The only sound it the room is the huge air filtration system, industrial level fans at each end of the room to keep the air fresh during this hideous but necessary cleaning process.

"Ten minutes, ladies, the clock is ticking."

She walks to the boy next to me, reaches up and takes his balls in her hand. Bounces them then cups them. She holds him gently.

"You shit on my hand and I'll beat you within an inch of your life, send you out there bloody. Now relax and stop squirming. You will get through this."

She releases his scrotum, pats his butt gently, strokes his back, pets him.

"It's going to be okay, darling. Mother is here for you."

She pets his hair. Girlish laugh, not mean spirited, she sounds concerned.

She walks to the hoist control, looks to the clock on the wall. She glances into her office through the large widow wall. She sees her phone blinking. She hurries out of the room leaving us hanging, bloated, wanting so bad to be let down to do the next fowl thing she demands. Not one of us moves, not a sound in the room except for the huge fans.

She is only a minute but it seems and eternity. She enters the room again and hits the 'lower' button on the hoist. Mechanical release grinding, the sound of chains being lowered, we all settle back and sit on the toilet beneath each of us. Cold steel meets the backs of my legs, I tense, feel my rear end want to explode, feel my little hole pinch so tight it hurts. We know better than to release without being told to do so. Not yet.

"Okay ladies, why are you here tonight? Nikki, you first."

She crosses her arms, stands and stares at the boy on the end.

"To be bred for the amusement of Mistress Marisa's guests, Mam."

His voice is strained, quivering, it's obvious he is in much stress, discomfort.

"Good girl, Nikki. Trevor you next. Why are you here?"

And so it is down the line. Calls each of by our names, asks the same question. When she has heard the same chant from us all she walks to the hoist button.

"Okay, girls, release, let's go, get it all out. Purge!"

She smiles to herself as we all push with all the force we have, all expel the fowl liquid in unison, all that is in our most private place, we purge out and into the toilet.

After she is satisfied that we are completely empty, she hits the 'up' button, pulling us all quickly back to our toes, bent forward and bowing. Quickly down the line she inserts the clear water nozzle, repeats the process, making us wait ten minutes, lowering us to flush out our cleaning rinse into the toilet. That process is repeated a third time, rinse and expunge.

We all have remnants of our dirty self on our naked legs, some more than others. We are all completely clean on the inside, filthy on the outside. And we know what happens to a girl if a man breeding her complains that she is dirty, held back during this process.

She quickly takes a rinse hose, a soft bristle long handle brush with soapy water on it. Softly she scrubs our most private parts, our legs, up between our baby smooth cheeks and legs, all of us individually cleaned. She then hoses all of us down making each one of us completely squeaky clean, soft and naked. She rinses the fowl witches-brew in the trough we stand in off our feet, we dance as she does this, the only time we are allowed to lift our legs and move our feet is for cleaning.

She punches hard a button on the wall and all the toilets flush simultaneously. She lowers the hoist and our hands return to our backs. Quickly she unfastens all of us one at a time, down the line from behind.

"Okay girls, time to hit the showers, get cleaner than clean, and then off to hair and makeup. I expect each of you little sissy boys back at my cage-room in no less than one hour. Take your time, make yourself pretty. No man wants to fuck a dirty girl. Make them all proud to give you their baby."

She laughs loudly as she says that, moves to the door and opens it.

We scamper passed her as fast as possible, stopping only after the fifth sissy boy is halted, her hand on the boy's chest.

"I've decided that after the fucking, when you all come back for after dinner dress up and auction, you'll hurry back her and clean these toilets. Take longer than half an hour for that and I'll suspend you by your balls. They only need a quick soap and rinse. Clear?"

She stares at him, the one behind him eyes glued to the floor, quivering.

"Yes, Matron, I'll do a good..."

She slaps his face, cuts him off in mid-sentence.

"Move, hair and makeup. That's all you have to think about right now, nothing else."

She watches as we all move into the shower and makeup room, watches through her office glass window.

Ilsa smiles to herself, thinks about the great job she does with all of us. Ilsa loves it that she is an integral part of these affairs. And most important a trusted friend of yours, she is Mistress Marisa's able can capable assistant at the estate. We are all safe in her hands. And she loves it that you took her suggestion to have all the little girls suspended by their wrists tonight, bred standing up by your fuck slave males. She looks at my little butt as I move to a shower spigot on the wall, sees me start to wash my hair.

She knows my mother will be here to see all of us tonight for the first time, only a few hours away from the fabulous and deliciously decadent show, all of us restrained and fucked repeatedly by ready and willing men and then auctioned off for further pleasure and entertainment of Mistress Marisa's A-List guests. 'What a delightful surprise this will be.', she thinks to herself. She's looking forward to meeting my mother as much as Mistress Marisa is to presenting me to her, showing my mother what I truly am and have been groomed to be at this estate, what I've become for my Mistress in my twenty-eighth year.

Tonight is my birthday. It's going to be a very special party.