Rachel's Retrospect Ch. 02

The work was easy. I was a ‘free agent’ and procured my own business. I met other hookers who told me it was much easier to have a pimp, but I swore I would never have another man control me in that way again. So, I may have starved a few nights from lack of business, I at least was in control of who fucked me, and how much they paid me for it.

I lived for about six months like this – sleeping during the day, or at least trying to – going out all night haunting the streets of Boston’s south side enticing young men in cars or outside of bars to hire me for an hour or two.

I did rather well, actually. I knew what to do, and due to my past experience I gained a reputation of being one of the more ‘exotic specialty’ hookers on the street.

One night on the hot summer pavement outside the “NightDance Club”, I met Her. She made me a bit nervous at first – she radiated such an aura of subtle but strong power all around her, one could not help but feel and be affected by it. She was a Madam. Her name was Rita. I do not know how old she was or is; much older than I, but very well preserved. She wore finely tailored suits, and drove a huge old white Cadillac that she had freshly painted at least every three years. Why she did not just by a new one I do not know.

How we began talking outside that club I believe was ‘kismet’. She knew what I was, and I had absolutely no idea what she was. At first, I thought she might be a wealthy older lesbian who wanted to hire me for an hour or so for kicks.

But she was not. What I came to learn about her was incredible. Not only did she tell me, she showed me. Rita owned a harem; a very sophisticated, high-class slave trade business. Why Madam Rita ‘chose’ me to introduce and initiate into her cloistered, very private world, I am not sure. However, she did become the one person to whom I told my story.

Rita owned an old warehouse just on the edge of the city. Within it she had constructed an elaborate and very elegant “House”. However, it was not a high-class brothel. It was a training house for the slave trade. She catered to the extremely wealthy – oil Sheiks, the old wealth of Boston, New York, London. She catered to the celebrities and moguls of Los Angeles, and the privileged European aristocracy. What she provided for them was not just a hooker or whore; it was a perfectly trained, totally obedient, guaranteed beautiful and untraceable young woman. A young woman who had been trained to be the best sex slave the world had to offer anyone who could afford to pay for such an exorbitant, exotic possession. And apparently, many did. Madam Rita had acquired immense wealth and power among the elite of the world, but only in its ‘darker circles’.

Rita saw in me the potential, the power, the strength and self-will I had built within myself. She invited me to become one of her “Teachers”. I would live at the Warehouse, she told me over drinks in a private room of the club, would have complete freedom when not ‘working’, and would be paid very well.

“You will never need worry about your next meal, your next warm bed,” Rita told me in her slightly accented voice. The man next to her – her bodyguard – lit the cigarette she held to her lips, and Rita took a long drag of it.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked her, no doubt sounding somewhat naïve.

“You will be on the other end of the…rope, so to speak,” she responded with a dark smile.

I see in you the potential to become a great Madam some day, Rachel. I am getting old…er,” she added with a raise of the eyebrows and a grim smile. I did not smile back.

“I will need someone to take over the business. My current ‘staff’ are excellent, but I do not see the ‘spark’ in any of them that I see in you.”

She reached up a well-manicured red fingernail and grazed it lightly across my cheek and under my chin as she spoke.

You will come live at my Warehouse and under my personal tutelage will become what you were born to become.”

And that is what I did.

The Warehouse was six stories tall. There was a two level basement to the old building. The slaves were kept in the underground basement on the lower floor. I did not ask nor did I want to know how her slaves were obtained. Eventually I was let in on the well-kept secret of her method of procurement; I cannot and will never reveal it.

The rest of the building housed large rooms where Rita’s “Teachers” – Dommes she had recruited after careful consideration and training – initiated and taught the slaves how to behave. I cannot reveal specifics about the Warehouse, or the activities that went on within – and still go on. I can say that usually there were a dozen slaves kept and trained at a time. There was one Mistress for each slave, so that training was very one-on-one and thorough. Rita’s philosophy was that a slave needed to build trust with just one Mistress at a time, in order to accept her training and learn more thoroughly what was expected of her. However, some of the training Dommes were proficient in specific areas, and therefore shared in all of the slaves’ training.

The girls were extremely well taken care of, in terms of nourishment, cleanliness, grooming and healthcare. I do know now that several of the training Dommes that Rita employed were actually previous slaves of hers who had returned to her, discovering through their experience that they had come to embrace the Life.

My own personal training with Rita was extraordinary. While she knew my background, she still wanted to start me out in the position of slave with her, so that I could experience first-hand how her slaves were treated and trained. I agreed to this, and signed a very elaborate contract to this effect. I would be in her ‘employ’ for one year. My salary was quite generous, and I was given a small set of rooms on the sixth floor of the Warehouse. The view was gorgeous.

For the first four weeks of my employ with Madam Rita, I was kept in an ample suite on the “training floor”. This was Rita’s own private room for her slave.

The décor of the room was sumptuous in red velvet and satin, charcoal grey walls, dim but adequate lighting. The ‘equipment’ Rita used was not the crude, handmade nailed planks like my previous Master and Dom – they were made of the finest Italian leather and high-polished stainless steel. I knew that because every slave was made to clean and polish her own set of bondage equipment.

During this first month of my training, I was kept loosely but securely bound to the huge bed in the center of the room. Rita – and her servant girl – would visit me at the same time each day, and then take me through the procedures of her method of slave training.

For the first week, 24/7, I was kept chained to the bed. This was done to condition the slave to complete submission and to get them used to being constantly bound for long periods at a time. The only times I was allowed up were for bathing and relieving myself. For this times I was taken to the suite’s large bathroom, where Rita’s servant girl would bath me in a large white porcelain bathtub. I was always kept bound hand and foot, which I long ago had become accustomed to. But now, with Rita, it did not seem like captivity and punishment. It seemed a contented, protected bondage in which I knew I was being genuinely cared for.

Rita explained to me her history and philosophy on the slave trade and BDSM during her daily training sessions with me. She was very firm and strict in her orders, but very calm and patient. Since I was already an experienced slave, I knew to obey her on command and therefore did not suffer a great deal of physical discipline. More, it was administered as an example as to how and how not to Use a slave.

Madame – as I was ordered to call her – was an incredible teacher and Dominatrix. She would enter the room in a sleek red leather bodysuit, cut low and tight upon her well-toned body. The woman wore a pair of stiletto thigh-high boots like no one I have ever seen. Molded to every curve of her feet, ankles, calves and thighs, the boots had no doubt been custom-made for her. I was often made to kiss them; it was a privilege and pleasure to do so.

Madame would sit on the bed next to me and speak to me for a while, telling me what she was going to do and why. I understood every word and agreeably submitted to her training. She used clamps and clips, vaginal and anal insertions, harnesses and vices, cuffs of every kind. She whipped me, flogged me, suspended me, chained me, bound me with rope and every other kind of material imaginable. At times, I was tortured for hours. But unlike previously when by my Master and Mistress’ hand it was senselessly cruel and evil, by Rita's experienced hand it was actually fulfilling on every level.

I also was given training by two of Rita’s Dommes. Both excellent teachers and highly knowledgeable in their specific areas, I learned a great deal from them both. One was an expert in Asian rope-tying; but she had invented quite a few techniques of her own which I came to find firsthand were most effective. The other Domme was an expert in slave protocol – language, responses, postures and positions in all areas of BDSM. I found this particularly interesting and learned quickly a variety of protocols practiced all over the world. It also was important for a slave to know a second or third language. When a slave had been properly trained and was on the market and sold to a foreign owner, she was then given a crash course in her future owner’s language.

Upon my ‘graduation’ from Rita’s tutelage, I was given a small initiation ceremony, officially given my personal set of rooms on the top floor, an expense account, a car, and soon, my first slave to train…

I chose my Domme colour to be purple. It had the impression of feminine softness, but when expressed in deep, bold tones, spoke of strength and sensuality. I wore my long blond hair up, 1-carat diamond studs in my ears (a gift from Madame Rita), manicured red-polished fingernails, and a lavender leather choker necklace.

When I walked into the training chamber to meet my slave for the first time, I was surprisingly not nervous. By this time I knew who I was, what I was, and where I was going. I now knew what my life was to be, and I was very pleased with it.

I closed the door behind me, locked it, and moved gracefully to the bed. Upon it laid a young woman of perhaps 18 or 19 years of age. She had short-cropped brown hair, and sparkling brown eyes…eyes that at the moment were full of fear at my presence. Her nude body was long and lean, small but firm young breasts, taut stomach, shaved mound. She was struggling at her bondage, muffling words of protest through the soft ballgag in her mouth. I just silently sat down next to her. I took a deep breath and smiled as I gazed into her eyes with a piercing gaze that instantly calmed her. I then spoke to her in a low, calm, quiet voice -

“I am Mistress Rachel, and I shall be your Teacher…"