The Launching of Slave Georgina

"Yes and no, Mistress." I replied.

"Well," She demanded. "Elucidate!" Mistress turned and walked away down the path.

I ran after her and continued "Oh! Yes. Sorry Mistress. I found the duties a little tedious, but then cleaning was never an exciting past-time, was it?" I asked rhetorically. "Having said that, neither is waiting on tables. I really like your apartment and the morning cleaning duties allowed me to explore all the rooms. The afternoon chores are also run of the mill, but mixed up as they are over the week gives them a less monotonous aspect. My only concern was the reaction I had to some of the cleaning solutions"

"I will look into that if necessary at a later date." Mistress reassured me.

"I felt a little exposed and embarrassed being naked every morning, but I just LOVED wearing the French Maid outfit. I think I look really sexy, even if it doesn't fit me that well. I wish I'd had one to wear to the nightclub that first Saturday. The kitchen cat-suit is a little small and uncomfortable, especially when filled with grit." I cast a wary glance at Mistress. Had I overstepped the mark by trying to make a humorous remark? She remained impassive and continued to listen.

"I thought that the way your punishments fitted my misdemeanours as closely as they did was very apt and inventive. The frog tie was quite a turn on to start with but became more and more uncomfortable as the evening drew on, but that was the intention, I suppose. It wouldn't be right if a punishment was enjoyable and felt like a reward." I concluded.

Mistress took over the conversation. "You are obviously an intelligent young lady, as evidenced by your degree level education, but you also seem surprisingly astute for one so inexperienced in the ways of servitude. You complete your duties competently and take your discipline readily and without protest. However, I do still have reservations about you being fully aware of the magnitude of the decision you are about to make. One week of 'fun' under the thumb of a Mistress, a slave does not make!"

"Take a look at that tiger patrolling the confines of its cage." She continued. "Do you not feel that may be you in a month or years time? Desperate for your freedom and pacing up and down your enclosure in search of an exit."

I have to admit that she seemed to have a point. Were a few nights, a weekend and now a week of 'playing at slave' enough to give me a full picture of the vocation I was contemplating?

"Think on my words, my dear, whilst we continue to enjoy our day out." She said with a much softer and more compassionate tone than I had heard until now. "Don't feel rushed or pushed to make an immediate decision. I wouldn't accept it in any case." It certainly gave me something to think about for the rest of the day.

We returned home at about six in the evening, collecting a Chinese take out on the way. After dinner we sat and watched a drama serial Mistress had been following on the television and then she took me upstairs to my room where she bound me to the bed.

My wrists were bound to my thighs and my ankles were secured to the bottom corners of the bed. I wasn't sure what was going to happen as I was still fully clothed in what I had been wearing all day, as was Mistress.

Mistress then removed her knickers and re-attached her garter straps to her stockings. She left the room for a few minutes and returned with a blindfold and something else I couldn't see. After attaching the blindfold Mistress sat astride my face saying, "I think you know what to do, slave."

I immediately set to licking out the vagina that was clamped across my mouth when I felt my knickers being pushed aside and something being inserted into me. My cunt swallowed it up, my knickers were put back in place and a few seconds later I was stimulated by the vibrations that began emanating from the small device. This was shortly followed by the unmistakeable hum of a vibrator that was then applied to my clitoris through my knickers.

"Under no circumstances are you to orgasm before me, slave. Understand?" Mistress stated.

"Efff Mfftrff" I mumbled into her genitalia. I now realised that if I wanted relief from what was obviously going to be a ferocious onslaught from Mistress then I would have to do a very good job at my end. I set to with as much skill as I could muster, sucking on her clitoris, rolling it gently between my teeth, flicking it with my tongue and then inserting my tongue further inside her body. It seemed to be working as Mistress was beginning to moan as she pressed her crotch harder into my face.

As far as my own predicament was concerned, I was already getting that numb feeling that creeps up on you when sexually aroused. The two pronged attack from the vibrations inside my pussy and the pressure, movement and minute oscillations from the device held against my own clitoris, was beginning to push me towards my own climax all too quickly. I had no idea what my penance would be should I peak before Mistress, but it would no doubt be cruel and inventive. I must do what I can to slow down the inevitable result. I began rolling the egg, as I later discovered it to be, around with my vaginal muscles trying to place it in a position that would make it as ineffective as possible. This was not particularly easy and neither would it stay where I placed it for very long.

In the meantime I was still trying to bring Mistress to her orgasm as I deduced that the best way out of this situation was to force Mistress to come as quickly as possible, but she was a hard playmate to satisfy. Mistress was also in the perfect position to remove herself from stimulation whenever she desired just by raising herself slightly on her knees and pulling away from my mouth. I was in a lose-lose situation with no way out.

I was now desperately trying not to come, whimpering and crying into Mistress' vagina as I edged ever closer to failure. Mistress, however, was also hovering near to climax but expertly controlling her exposure to my ministrations in order to stay on the edge.

Finally it was no use holding out any longer. I exploded into my knickers and all over Mistress' hand as she manipulated the buzzing dildo against my clitoris, simultaneously letting loose a muffled scream into Mistress' crotch. As my bodily fluids soaked into my knickers, garter belt, stocking tops and dress, Mistress sat hard on my mouth, smothering me. I struggled for breath as she, too, came all over my face with a loud moan. Her juices filled my mouth, overflowed onto my nose and chin, ran down the side of my face into my ears and hair and streamed off my chin, flowing onto my neck. As Mistress raised herself off my face I swallowed what liquid of hers was in my mouth and took in a number of gasping breaths.

"Goodnight, slave." Mistress stated as she rose from the bed. "I will free you in the morning. I will bathe myself this evening." So that was my penance for coming first? To lay fully dressed, drenched in my own sweat, bound and blindfolded in mine and Mistress' sticky juices all night.

In the morning Mistress woke and untied me and ordered me to shower myself and resume normal duties. I undressed, washed all the dried and caked on cum from my body in the shower and then set about my breakfast duties, once again naked in heels. Just before leaving for work Mistress administered the coup-de-grace of the punishment for last nights transgression. She fitted me with a chastity belt that denied me access to my clitoris and vagina but still allowed normal ablutions. "See me on Saturday night regarding its removal." She stated as she breezed out the door for work.

Louise returned home about ten that morning and settled back in as I completed the morning cleaning. She was still convinced I wouldn't find it an appealing lifestyle and I have to admit that I also had my own doubts. We discussed my week over lunch and then I dressed myself in the clothes in which I had arrived and left on my journey back home.

I arrived home and prepared to spend another week of waiting tables and living a normal life, with the exception of the constant reminder of my week with Mistress that the chastity belt provided. I had found during the day that the straps that travelled from the base of my vaginal slit across my arse cheeks to the belt around my waist were uncomfortable whenever I sat. I also found it a chore to dry all my urine from around and behind the vaginal cover whenever I used the toilet in order to prevent drips wetting my knickers. Despite nobody saying anything to me, I was certain that colleagues and customers at the restaurant could see the straps under the tight fitting black dress that was my uniform. Perhaps they just thought I was wearing a strange pair of knickers.

After completing my week of servitude, and returning to the mundane drudgery of waiting tables, I realised by about Wednesday how much I had actually enjoyed my experiment despite, or maybe as a result of, the punishments I had undergone. On Thursday morning before leaving for work I decided to give myself the sort of psyche evaluation I used to give illustration cases during my degree studies. I tried to be objective and as honest with myself as possible.

Did I want out of my current circumstances? Yes. Not such a good answer as it supports the notion that anything is better than the status quo.

Did I view the new option as the only way out? No. A better answer as I wasn't being driven solely into that corner.

Was the new option everything I expected it to be? No. I would soon find the work to be as tedious and monotonous as waiting tables after an initial 'honeymoon' period. And Yes. The BDSM and sexual activity was a real turn on, as was the French Maids uniform.

Could I trust Mistress? Yes, I genuinely believe so. During my chats with Louise she had assured me that Mistress was not an intrinsically cruel person, but I think I had worked that out for myself. Louise had told me that Mistress could be quite inventive, harsh and sometimes sadistic with her punishments, but she was never vicious or spiteful. In fact, she had gone on to say that Mistress had always looked out for her health and well being, above all else.

By the time Saturday came around I was desperate to attend the nightclub and meet with Mistress. I had made my decision and was intent on persuading Mistress to take me on as her permanent slave. I was also so frustrated with having to wear the chastity belt, and it had started to chafe me in a couple of places. In addition to that, not being able to bring myself off all week, on top of agonising over whether I should or shouldn't become a slave, had driven me to distraction. By Friday and Saturday I was making so many mistakes with peoples orders and other duties at the restaurant that the manager had asked me if everything was all right to which I obviously had to answer yes. I could hardly admit to him that I had spent all week trying to decide on a future of slavery as well as being locked into a chastity belt by a Dominatrix and unable to masturbate!

Mistress was alone at the club as her male slave scheduled for that night had let her down so I spent the whole evening following Mistress around and serving her as her club slave, naked except for my heels and the chastity belt. I tried to discuss a permanent position with Mistress but all she would say was that she would see me for dinner at her apartment on Monday night and that I was to dress according to the decision I had made. She also refused to remove the chastity belt but did give me some arnica cream and Aloe Vera gel to rub into the sore spots.

I spent some time Sunday and Monday going over my decision a few times but not once did my reviews change my mind, which was reassuring, despite wearing this damned uncomfortable belt for over a week. I arrived at Mistress' apartment on Monday night wearing only the chastity belt, obviously, and my high heels under my winter coat. I have absolutely no idea what I was to have worn if my decision had been no!

During the evening it was impressed most firmly upon me by Mistress that this was NOT a joke! It would be hard work with no monetary remuneration and that, as I already knew, severe punishments would ensue for poor performance. It was a lifestyle I was choosing and NOT a job! Mistress refused to allow me to sign up there and then, telling me to go home and again think very seriously about what I was contemplating. At the end of the evening just before I left she finally gave me the key to the chastity belt and told me I could remove it when I got home. I did just that and fingered myself senseless before falling into an exhausted sleep.

Over the next couple of days I again mulled over all the reasons for and against becoming Mistress' live in slave, in fact it was pretty much all I thought about, and decided it was most definitely what I wanted, so on Friday the 11th of October I handed in my notice at the restaurant. I went to the nightclub on Saturday night and surprised Mistress with my arrival, telling her that I had decided to become her slave and had already handed in my notice at work. She was a little shocked by my conviction and the inevitability of it all, but said that it was exactly what she had expected, if a bit abrupt, but felt it only fair to try and put me off last Monday.

Mistress said that she would make all the arrangements and I was to arrive at her flat on the morning of Saturday the 19th October with one suitcase of clothes and belongings. She then whispered something to her club slave, who immediately scuttled off, after which she led me to an unused cage that had a large table in the centre and a smaller one off to one side. Mistress ordered me to raise my arms and then attached ropes to my wrist cuffs, threw them over the bars on top of the cage and hauled me into a stretched, standing position on my toes. I was also fitted with a large ball gag, the largest Mistress had ever used on me, pressed deeply into my mouth and forcing my jaws apart a little painfully, if I am honest. Mistress then played with me for a little while, tweaking my nipples, slapping my bum, teasing my clitoris, until the slave returned with, of all things, a tape measure. Mistress proceeded to measure every part of my body which included all the usual things such as inside leg, waist, hips, chest and breast but also things like the length and width of my feet, the circumference of my head and neck. By the time she had finished, Mistress had measured every inch of my body as the slave took notes.

Mistress then released my arms and had me lie down, face up, on the table with my knees bent over the edge at one end. I was restrained in this position with my ankle cuffs secured to the legs at one end of the table and my arms pulled backwards with my wrist cuffs tied to the legs at the other. I was now naked and helpless on the table, completely on display to everyone gathered around the cage. The usual painful clamps were attached to my nipples which were pulled directly upwards and tied off with string to the bars, above and slightly outwards, on the roof of the cage. The effect of this was to pull my breasts into two cone shapes that pointed almost straight up and could not be relieved as my arms were still secured behind me. I was then fitted with a blindfold.

Then I caught the tell tale smell of a burning match head and fear immediately knotted my stomach. Was I about to be branded? There had been no mention of branding me with her 'Mark', whatever that might be. I snorted and squealed in my gag and I felt Mistress' breath close to my face. I quietly grunted the 'SOS' and Mistress, as good as her word, removed the blindfold and released the gag.

"What's the trouble, Georgina?" Mistress whispered in my ear, with genuine concern. "I haven't even started yet but you look terrified." (Mistress used my real name here, but in order to remain anonymous I have changed it to the slave name she later gave me. It is at this point I shall mention that Mistress gave me the name 'Slave Georgina' precisely because She thought it humorous that others think of me as a male 'Sissy Slave' until we met.)

"I'm not sure I wish to be branded, Mistress." I whispered in return.

I twitched in shock as Mistress suddenly straightened up and let out a huge belly laugh. The crowd around the cage was also stunned into silence by her unexpected outburst. Mistress went to the small table and she returned holding a tall black candle.

"It's for wax play, my dear." Mistress announced to me and everyone else. "No need to worry. No scars or permanent damage." She lowered herself again to my ear. "Is that OK?" she whispered.

I nodded. I could feel myself getting hot in the face as my embarrassment began to show. Mistress had been nothing if not honest, thoughtful and inclusive in all our dealings to date. Did I really think that she could be so cruel as to brand me without first discussing it? I felt such a fool for even considering it, let alone acting on such a baseless suspicion. I looked around at the gathered crowd, larger now since Mistress' laughter had drifted across the basement chamber of the club, and if there had been a hole I could have crawled into, I would have!

Mistress re-attached the gag and the blindfold and announced to the gathered crowd. "This pathetic excuse of a human thought I was going to brand it! I know what belongs to me, and likewise my belongings know they are mine. I'm not a child and I don't need to label them like a school uniform."

The crowd laughed and I could hear a few cheers. I didn't think I could be any more embarrassed but being publicly ridiculed like that compounded my shame. I again smelled the burning match head as Mistress lit a new one to presumably light the candle she had shown me.

I braced myself for the burning globules of wax to make contact with my skin. As with all blindfolded play it was not knowing where or when the next event would occur that added to the excitement and apprehension. I find that the suspense, lack of awareness and shock of arrival are themselves at least as stimulating as the tortures, punishments, caresses or abuse that follow.

Suddenly I felt a burning sensation directly between my parted breasts. I jerked violently and squeaked into my gag. Mistress immediately slapped my face.

"You will refrain from moving as I do not wish my art to be destroyed by your miserable flinching!" Mistress loudly exclaimed for all to hear. "You will have an extremely sore face by the end if you continue. Scream as much as you like, but DON'T MOVE!"

"Eff Mfftrff." I mumbled into my gag.

The next drop hit me in about the same place and I held myself firm. With each subsequent drop I felt I could sustain the pain more easily and after a while, as I realised that Mistress seemed to be creating a curving line down my torso, it became just another drip after the last and the pain was hardly worth mentioning. Mistress turned her line of wax under my left breast and then curved diagonally back across my body to the right and, after reaching my navel, headed straight downwards. It was at this point that I was becoming increasingly concerned as Mistress strayed lower and lower towards my clean shaven quim. Mistress stopped when she reached my shaven area and after 30 seconds or so I felt wax being administered to a new area. This seemed to be a line from just below my cleavage to just above my navel and was followed by further lines criss-crossing my torso forming what felt like a large square pattern. Over the next hour or so, a very long time to remain motionless I can tell you, Mistress filled in all the squares with wax and then started on my breasts. This was considerably more painful as the hot wax hit the sensitive skin of my tits. She covered all the exposed flesh of my bosom with the exception of a small area from my nipples to about an inch outside the areola of each breast. I breathed a sigh of relief too soon as Mistress very quickly filled in the missed peaks of my breasts, still held erect by the clamps which had totally numbed my nipples by this point.