Adam satisfied his mistress but was not untied. Instead she teased him that he would earn his freedom by satisfying her a second time. This was a change from the old game they had been accustomed to playing (which would have required a stretch break, or at least a change of position), but Monica was determined to teach him a new game with different rules.
The game was interrupted by Mistress Helga who knocked on the door and said, "That's all, folks. It's time for the slaves to go back to the compound."
"Ohhh," moaned Monica. "We were just getting started."
"We have a schedule to keep," said Helga. "Just a brief visit tonight. You don't want to tire him out. He'll need
all
his stamina tomorrow night."
Monica untied him from the bed and ordered him to don his brief before she refastened his arms behind his back. Then she fastened his leash to make him appropriate for the "common areas" and led him down the hall where he was placed back under the care of Mistress Helga.
There were more vans available for the trip back to the compound, so the subs weren't nearly as crowded on the return trip. The girls sitting on either side of Adam were more relaxed than before the party--and sweatier. One of them was wearing a chastity belt which was visible beneath her nightie; she must have had a particularly jealous master.
They disembarked at the compound, and the mistresses led their subs back to their rooms. Once Adam had been returned to his room, Helga untied him and confiscated his brief.
"Did Mistress Monica happen to mention me?" Helga asked. Her devilish smile frightened him as much as it intrigued him.
"She said you wanted to buy me," he revealed. "And that she refused your final offer."
"She hasn't
heard
our final offer. Mistress Kathy is going to offer her a job."
"A what?"
"As a full-time staff mistress--with full privileges and lodging for life. Along with her own personal attendant. You should be very flattered. We don't often make such offers, but Mistress Kathy and I think you're worth the investment."
"She won't agree to that," said Adam. "I mean, we have lives back home."
"Of course, you do. But we can offer her so much more
here
." She left the room, allowing his brief to dangle casually from her fingers as she sauntered out the door.
"
I
won't agree to that."
His objection amused her. "You cute thing, no one's asking! Good night now." She closed the door and locked it.
The next morning the subs were gathered for an exercise session in a room equipped like a health club. The girl in the chastity belt—who had been pitied the night before—was now envied by the other girls because her belt provided more coverage than the costumes the other girls were forced to wear. They had been given scandalously small g-strings which had to be worn carefully to avoid wardrobe malfunctions. Mistress Helga called them "anatomy malfunctions" since the wardrobes (as provided by their mistresses) could not be to blame. As their training progressed, she explained, so would the difficulty level of the uniforms.
Adam would have felt sorry for them had it not been for his own costume. It was a tiny ill-fitting loincloth that would have made Tarzan blush. The sides were held together with strings, but even when tightly tied, he did not dare make a sudden movement unless he were holding the suit with both hands. It was more embarrassing than being naked.
The subs' fitness training began with a vigorous treadmill session with predictable results. None of the slaves' costumes could contain their wearers under the stress of exertion, so the subs were penalized for their anatomy malfunctions with extra time on the treadmills at even greater speed.
This was followed by a strenuous weight training session designed to keep them fit enough to satisfy their mistresses' demanding appetites. Each staff mistress tracked the progress of her charge by taking notes and warned that steady improvement over future sessions would be mandatory.
They were then taken outside and hosed off before being escorted into the dining area—dripping wet—for lunch.
In the afternoon they were escorted back outside for a lesson in gardening. Because this was an outdoor activity, the subs began the session by applying sunscreen to each other. None were permitted to apply lotion to themselves. Applying the lotion required Adam and the girls to have their hands on every curve and bulge of each other's sweating bodies. The mistresses closely monitored the activity and allowed no crevice to be ignored.
The rest of the afternoon was spent landscaping the area around the slave compound with small hand tools, but when there weren't enough tools for everyone, Adam was forced to move dirt with his hands. Adam wondered what any of this had to do with their training, but none of the subs questioned it out loud. Obedience seemed to be the only real lesson of the day, and Adam decided the point of the activity must have been to give him hard-to-explain tan lines.
At the day's end, each of them was tied spread-eagled to a metal frame which faced the setting sun. Their mistresses hosed them down a second time and toweled them off before releasing them and sending them to their rooms with instructions to make themselves pretty for another party.
Adam was not required to wear makeup as the women were, but afterwards, his hands were bound behind his back along with the others for a pre-party inspection. When the appearance of each slave had been approved, they were once again packed into the vans and shipped to the mansion like cattle.
The subs were herded into the dance hall and reacquainted with their mistresses. Again Adam had difficulty recognizing Monica who was now wearing an all-rubber fetish suit and dark eye makeup, making her look even more hardcore than the night before.
"You look yummy!" purred Monica. "I wonder why I never put you in a loincloth before."
"I'm afraid it doesn't really fit me," said Adam.
"It fits you perfectly. You just need more training to get used to it. Give me a kiss."
He kissed her, then made a tugging motion with his arms to remind her that they were still tied behind his back. "Do you think you could..."
"Do I think I could what?"
"You know." He turned part way around so she could see the extent of his restraints.
"You're not asking me for a favor already, are you? You just got here. Aren't you excited about the games tonight?"
"What games?"
"Oh, I forgot they don't tell you anything! The slave games begin tonight. The mistresses are all very excited about it. I'm counting on you to win!"
"Win what?"
"You'll do just fine. Do you want a cocktail first? To get loosened up a bit? I can get it with a straw so I can hold it for you, and you won't need to use your hands."
About that time, Mistress Kathy stepped up onto a small stage at the center of the room carrying a microphone. She seemed dressed for a special occasion, having abandoned her business attire for a more festive outfit—a black velour catsuit.
"Oh, too late," said Monica. "They're starting. I'd better get you ready." She tugged his leash to lead him toward the stage.
"Welcome back masters and mistresses," Kathy addressed the crowd.
"And slaves!
"Tonight we start the slave games--games of skill, discipline and luck—in which you, our slaves, will prove yourselves worthy of the vocation you have willingly chosen. Winners will have the respect of their mistresses, and losers should expect their wrath, so I know you will all give it your best effort!"
Mistress Helga was in front of the stage handing out special bondage gear for the new mistresses to apply to their subs.
"To make the competition fair, each slave will be bound in an identical fashion—with knees tied together and elbows tied behind the back. This will allow some freedom of movement, but only a little. Slaves will also receive bondage mittens to eliminate any possible use of their hands—because we hate making it easy for you."
This drew cheers from the crowd.