Promotion
It's pretty comfy parked like this. I feel lucky to have served those nice two Mistresses.
Sliding my legs out to the side, I'm almost sitting instead of kneeling, half reclining, half leaning up against the wall. Having like a whole foot of chain between my anklets makes me feel like a queen. The simple throw rug under me seems luxurious. I twist my wrists around in my cuffs behind my back, happy they're "The Pretty Ones," which are nice and smooth.
I do wish there was a litter pan nearby. I shift my position and squeeze my legs together hoping a Mistress comes by so I can beg to be "taken for a walk." I gotta pee!
It's busy in this corridor being in a Mistress residential part of the castle. Every now and then a chain of slaves is driven by on their way to various chores. One of the slave drivers will surely pick me up soon. It's like waiting for a bus, except the Guard chooses you. I hope I get the chance to beg soon. I gotta pee!
There are whiplashes and the clattering of chains coming from around the corner of the corridor to my left. Guards are growling orders so it must be a line of girl coming from or going to work. Sure enough, I see a Guard holding a leash come around the corner. Then I see the girls.
They're low slaves. Probably barely trained. The poor girls are in the heavy cast iron manacles. we call those "The Punishment Ones." they're forced to crawl down the hallway, their heavy leash and manacle chains dragging along the floor. The collars they wear fill me with sympathy. I've worn them. Being three inches tall they chafe your collar bone and the bottom of your chin. You can hardly move your head. The shackles rub your wrist and ankle bones raw. I had to crawl like that too years ago. When a "5" girl begs to stand or sit, the answer is almost always "NO!!" and a lash. But we were happy to be out of the training dungeon.
The collars are very heavy for another reason. Since grade 5 girls and below must crawl, the heavy chains are locked to each girl's front collar ring. So each girl has two heavy chains pulling down on the front ring of her collar. The one chain hangs under her, leading to the girl behind. It usually hangs low between your cleavage. It might rub your snatch if the girl behind you falls too far behind and the chain pulls tighter. The other dangles under your chin going to the girl in front of you. To be nice, you stay close to her. Otherwise you will saw the chain into her pussy.
If and when you get to be a grade 6, your collar and shackles are still three inches and thick, but you graduate to polished stainless steel. Those feel much better against your skin, weigh a lot less, and slaves feel like they've accomplished something. "Nice Ones" is what we call those. At least that's what low slaves think.
Memories of being a low slave flood back into my mind. We slaves have grades and are very aware of that, very much like rank in the military. Every time we are used, every time we are trained, we are graded in many different things. Add it all up and average it out and that's our rank.
A new girl is a 0.000. When she first learns to beg to serve and lick a Mistress's feet as soon as she sees a Mistress, she might get zero to ten for a grade just for that. This applies to stuff like "Pain Love" when a slave is graded on how sexy she is under torture, and "Bondage Grace" for how sensuously she poses and moves in restraints. There are lots of tests, some of it very plain;. "Servile Respect," "Housekeeping," "Dancing," "Cooking," and the all important "Oral Skills," just to name a few. Lots.
Every class, every single time a Mistress uses a slave, the girl is graded. A slave might serve five hundred times a year and maybe get four thousand grades! The Clitoris Alliance takes this very seriously. It's all scrupulously recorded. We slaves are very careful what we do too, very careful. Just one wrong facial expression and you can get a zero in "Servile Respect," dragging down your score.
To even get out of training a girl must get past 5.000. I remember a girl who always cried, fought her restraints, never submitted. she was a 1.040 after a whole year in training! She had been carried over from an earlier class to even be in my class.
One day the Mistresses took a chain of us all the way up on the ramparts of the castle wall, my whole class. It was freezing, Oh how the winds howled! They took that girl off of the chain. Two Mistresses held her by her arms while another took off her collar. We were all terribly scared wondering what this meant. The three Dommes picked her up and threw her over the wall!!!! It's a one hundred foot drop to the huge boulders below in the crashing surf. Those boulders have sharp edges. The water is icy cold, full of ice floes.
We heard her wailing and screaming become fainter and fainter as she fell. Then there was just the howling wind.
We learned a lot that day. Every one of us begged very sincerely, very fervently when we got back to the dungeon. We licked and kissed devoutly, knelt prettily, shoulders back, tits thrust out and held high, posed and showed off our restraints like jewelry models every time a Domme even glanced at us.
The girls crawling by me under the whips of their slave drivers must be 5's, newbies. Probably being taken to scrub grease pits in the kitchens or clean litter pans in the cells of higher grade slaves.
I do feel sorry for them but I also think they deserve what they get. If a girl doesn't know enough to thank a Mistress while she's being whipped then she deserves to be whipped harder. I may only be a trained animal but I know how to survive. I'm an 8 and very proud of it too!!!
The Mistress at the end of the chain of crawling girls looks sternly at me as She passes. She sees my pretty shackles. She sees I've got a carpet to kneel on. She probably even sees I've been given a very generous foot of ankle chain and guesses I do not belong with the slaves She's herding. She goes back to whipping the girls in front of Her, ignoring me. I consider begging permission to pee but decide not to chance it and keep quiet. I do NOT want to be added to THAT chain!
It was not long before another chain of slave girls was being driven by. These were different. They wear pretty manacles like me. Even more, some of them are in dazzling silk outfits like belly dancers with bangles, necklaces and even belled anklets! Others are in fabulous rubber corsets and skirts. Another has colorful swirly body paint covering every inch of her. One even has a golden collar and shackles all studded with sapphires! They all have gorgeous hairdos and makeup. "Gosh! They look lovely!" I think. "They must be 9's!!!"
I've never met a 10. I'm not sure they exist. A slave would have to have been be perfect in every way from her very first day. There are myths about 10's in the past. All girls, even Mistresses go quiet when telling the tales of their stunning beauty, their perfect servitude, their legendary grace.
I only know a couple of the girls. Sometimes high slaves can be bitches and don't talk to lower girls. But I see Juanita, Samantha, and Sarah who are nice. I smile at them. They smile back.
The lead Mistress stops and looks at me. I decide to chance it. I bow down placing my forehead on the floor.
"Mistress?" I plead just above a whisper, "may this slave beg to speak please?"
"Granted. What do you want slave?" She replies a bit wearily.
"Slave begs to pee please. This slave has not been walked all day and NEEDS it please Mistress," I whine pathetically.
The Mistress scowls, probably on a tight schedule to deliver the girls, looks around deciding what to do. She locks the leash of the first girl in Her line to a wall ring on the other wall to park the entire line of girls. I admire the girls deeply. Each one stands perfectly, like a model or perhaps a porn star. They ooze sensuality. They radiate sex like waves of heat you might see reflecting off the sand in a desert.
"Very well. Can't have puddles on the floor can we?" She states plainly as she unlocks my leash from my wall ring. "You may stand slave."
