Slavery Unfolding Pt 02

"Inspection slave" you instruct.

You enjoy watching as I struggle to pull myself up off the floor with my hands bound behind my back and my posture garments limiting my movement. You open the top drawer of your desk and pull out a notepad. You leave yourself a note to have me change positions in heavy bondage more often before replacing the pad. You turn back to continue watching my struggle with a wide smile. I finally make it to my feet and spread my legs wide. I look straight ahead, despite my strong desire to look to you for approval. You move behind me, mapping the lines of my body with your eyes. In this position, you can easily inspect and access every part of my body.

Normally, I would put my hands behind my head but since they are tightly bound together at the moment, I leave them behind my back. You pull out the thin cane you had tucked beside your desk and gently drag it across my ass.

"If you couldn't tell slave, today's lesson will be about responding to commands." You explain, punctuating your statement with a firm tap of your cane.

My flesh trembles from the impact and I moan through my gag. You remove the cuffs binding my wrists and reiterate your command.

"Inspection slave, properly this time."

You love to give me impossible commands, they provide a lovely opportunity to assert your control over me.

'Yes Master' I attempt to say through my gag; though it comes out more as a series of grunts and moans.

I raise my arms and lock my hands behind my head. I love it when you give me impossible commands. It provides an amazing opportunity for me to take punishment without the shame that comes with disappointing you. For good measure, I spread my legs even wider, ensuring no part of my body is hidden from you.

"Good pet," you whisper, going back to gliding the tip of the cane gently across my skin.

You lightly tap your cane on my thigh a few times.

"Present slave," you bark with a slightly harder strike.

I quickly move to obey your order. I turn to your desk and firmly grasp the two closest corners, spreading my arms wide. I walk my legs back, bringing my shoulders down and shooting my ass out. I spread them so my feet are parallel with my hands and finish by bringing my head up to look at the opposite wall. This last action was a challenge considering the posture collar holding my neck rigid and the corset restricting the movement of my core but ultimately I managed it. You walk over and put your cane down on the bend of my back. Using me as a table and forcing me to hold still, lest I drop the implement. You grab my ass in both hands and massage it with your thumbs. You dig your fingers deep into my skin, enjoying the feeling of handling your property.

After relishing the moment, you pick up your cane once again and give me five quick yet firm strikes across the ass. I scream through my gag, the sound comes out muffled but it is still enough to bring a smile to your face. You absentmindedly grab my ass again with one hand. You trace your thumbs against the welts actively rising to the surface. With the other hand you lightly tap your cane along my other thigh. Even the soft strikes are enough to make me moan and whimper. My fingers dig into the corners of the desk, bracing myself for the next hard strike. Despite my preparation, I am caught off guard when the next hard strike lands on my shoulder. I whine and struggle to keep my position as you add more strikes to my shoulders, making the two sides symmetrical.

You put your cane on your desk and move beside me. You kiss my back softly, going up and down my spine between my collar and corset. You whisper softly in my ear.

"Prayer slave"

I turn around and sink to my knees. I lean down and rest my forehead on the floor in front of me. My arms reach out ahead of me, stretching out as far as they can before I place my palms face-down on the floor. I focus on my breathing, making sure I take long, slow breaths to help me tolerate the position. You dig your foot into my side, pushing your toes into the curves of my body. I shake my ass a little, giving you a subtle signal of my enjoyment. You pull your chair over to me, stopping to grab your notebook on the way. You sink into your chair and plant your heels on my back. While relaxing on your living footstool, you make some notes to yourself. You write observations about my obedience and ideas for future things you would like to do to your slave. You curl your toes into my back. The heat radiating from my body feels nice against your bare feet.

Eventually, you stood up, put away your chair and gave me a solid slap on the ass.

"Floor slave" you command.

My legs straighten, letting my chest hit the ground. I bring my arms back to my sides and flip my hands over. This pose has me lying prone on the floor, forcing me to come to terms with the vulnerability inherent in my role of servitude. This position is new for me, we discussed it when you first taught me the poses you wanted me to practice. But this is the first time you have had me assume the floor position. As much as I am tempted to lift my head to watch you, I keep my forehead planted on the floor. You walk up beside me and place the heel of one foot carefully in my palm. After a short pause, you shift your weight, pushing down on my hand hard with the force of your stance. My fingers automatically curl around your foot. I let out a low grunt through my gag and focus on breathing deeply. My body is screaming at me to clench and squirm through the pain in my hand but I hold fast, maintaining my position because that is what you ordered me to do. With a swift movement, you bring your other foot over my back and place it on my other hand. You shift your body back and forth, erratically distributing your weight over my pinned hands. At first, I try to clench my hands to reduce the pressure you are placing on them. But the unpredictable movements throw me mentally off balance. I stop trying to predict your movement and relax into the pain. When you feel my hands relax you stand still for a moment.

You lift your first foot and move it onto my ass. The pressure of your foot pushing into the cane marks from earlier short-circuits my brain. I had been making an effort to avoid drooling around my gag but even that consideration is beyond my ability at this point. You lift the other leg, sinking your entire weight into my ass for a moment, causing an explosion of sensation. Instead of fading, the feelings reignite when you set your other foot between my shoulder blades. The cane marks there respond in the same way, lighting my nervous system on fire with screams of overwhelming pain from the pressure of your foot. You ride me like a skateboard, pushing me into the floor as you balance on my back. A puddle of saliva grows on the floor below my face as I revel in the sensations of pain and pleasure chasing each other throughout my body. The only thing I am aware of at this moment is the pressure of your feet planted in my skin.

You step off my back and notice the puddle of drool. A huge grin spreads across your face. You love sending slaves into subspace. You crouch down beside me, placing a hand on my back to steady yourself.

"Maintain slave" you instruct with a steady voice. You hold your breath, wondering if I will still be able to respond to the command.

My body moves of its own accord. I lift my chest off the floor and shift my weight onto my knees before I spread them as far apart as I can. Then I lift my head and rest my hands face-up on my thighs. You grab my chin, lifting my face and forcing me to look into your eyes. You tap my cheek a few times before slapping me hard across the face. My heart races and I look up at you with adoration and devotion in my eyes. You slap me more and more, ramping up your force with each strike and leaving red imprints of your fingerprints on my cheeks. With a final vicious strike, you hit me hard enough that I can no longer maintain my position, sending me crashing to the ground. Your face erupts in a grin as I quickly shake my head and scramble back into position. My eyes beg you for another strike and you can't help but marvel at the obedient pet you created.

You spit in my face, dropping a glob of saliva onto the bridge of my nose.

"Good slut, now stay" you order in a satisfied tone before you walk back to your desk and take a seat. I dare not move my head, letting your parting gift slowly slide down my nose. From where I am kneeling, I would need to turn my head to see where you are so I am resigned to staring at the empty wall ahead of me and simply listening for more instructions. I can hear you typing something and I can feel your saliva fall far enough down my face that it mingles with the spit that has been steadily escaping around my gag.

You look over at me occasionally, enjoying the view, but largely spend the next couple of hours catching up on emails and putting the finishing touches on your latest project. Initially, I am hyper-aware of every sensation in my body. The pressure on my calves from holding my weight, the constriction of the posture collar around my neck and the corset around my torso, the saliva continuing to drip from my lips around the gag, even the sense of fullness from the butt plug I had forgotten I was wearing. But over time, my brain falls into a sort of stand-by mode, not really thinking of anything, simply waiting for further instructions. I am like a dog in a cage waiting for its owner to get home. I stare blankly at the wall ahead of me as your keys click away in the background.

When you've finished your work, you walk back into my field of view. As soon as I can see you again, my eyes light up and I pant through my gag to show my excitement to see you.

"Stand up slave, nice and slow" you command, putting out a hand to help steady me as I rise to my feet. I lean heavily on your support, my legs trembling as they deal with the shift in weight. You pull me against your chest and wrap your arms around me. I return the gesture, sinking into the warmth of your embrace. After a moment, you bring one hand to my face, resting it under my chin and tilting my head to look up at you. With the other hand you reach around my head, deftly undoing my gag and pulling it away in one smooth motion, letting it drop from your fingers onto the floor. You meet my eyes with a look of pride and desire before passionately kissing me. As our lips lock together, you wrap your arms around me once more, crushing me against your body. You kiss me with the fervor of a drowning victim scrambling for air. After what feels like simultaneously seconds and an eternity, you rip your lips from mine and take a deep breath.

"Turn around slave" you order as you guide my body by my shoulders. I can feel you pull at the laces of my corset, loosening the strings one at a time and slowly removing the pressure around my torso. I hadn't realized how tight it was but now that you are releasing it, I miss the constriction the garment provided. You set the corset down next to my gag before moving onto my posture collar. I make an effort not to slump as soon as you pull it out from under my standard collar and place it on the floor with the other items.

"There we are! Leash slave" you exclaim as you pull a leash out of your pocket. I turn around and grab the D-ring on my collar designed for the leash to clip onto. I hold it in a position that makes it easier for you to attach the clip of the leash with one hand and hold the other hand behind my back. You clip the leash to my collar and give it a tug to ensure it is firmly attached. Without another word, you walk toward the door, keeping a firm grip on my leash as I trail behind you.

We walk up to your bedroom and you point to the large dog cage sitting next to the wall.

"I'm done playing with you for now, slave. Be a good pet until I return," you command before sharply spanking my ass. I swiftly walk over to the cage and step over the side. You made sure to get a style that opens at the top rather than the side because you enjoy how I need to sink to my knees and duck my head to completely fit. You thread the leash through the door of the cage before pulling it shut. You hang the handle of my leash on a carabiner screwed into the wall before clipping it shut. This prevents me from lying down or moving too much inside my cage. You latch the door shut and ensure it stays shut with the click of a padlock. Not that I would try to open my cage on my own, it makes the experience so much more exciting knowing that I couldn't do so even if I did want to. Almost unconsciously, I lift my arms to either side of the cage where fabric cuffs are clipped to the cage walls. As an additional layer of both degradation and security, you wrap the cuffs around my wrists, firmly restraining them against the walls of the cage and ensuring I stay still. With a final parting glance you shut off the lights and leave the room, leaving me to eagerly await your return.