Downstairs in Stuart's dungeon, the lights were quite dim. Mistress Lydia had allowed her slave, Thomas, to walk down the stairs because having him crawl was simply too impractical. Contrary to common expectations, Stuart had created a warm, welcoming dungeon - no bare brick walls and cold floors here. Instead, the walls were padded and lined with red velvet, the floor carpeted in a steel grey short loop pile. It was clean and immaculate – a modern dungeon for a modern Master. Candles were lit, creating a soft light, emitting a warm fragrance. It was the perfect place to train a slave.
As she walked to the middle of the room, she finally spotted Stuart's slave.
"Darling, this is Mistress Lydia," Stuart called over his shoulder to the girl. "And that is Thomas, her slave."
Lydia did not bother to make eye contact with the girl. She didn't greet her either. Stuart had her bound to a pole, her arms tied loosely behind her back, which meant she had been there for quite some time. A tightly restrained slave could only ever be kept in bondage for twenty minutes or so before their muscles atrophied and their circulation was cut off. Stuart had skilfully bound her so that she could remain that way indefinitely. A gag was inserted in her mouth and fastened behind her head. Her dress was hitched up and snagged in the ropes that encircled her waist. Her white cotton underwear had been dragged down to her thighs, revealing an immaculately waxed mons with a thin line of hair trailing down the middle and between her legs - a nice touch, Lydia thought.
"Down," Lydia instructed her husband-slave, and Thomas immediately went down on his hands and knees. She yanked on the silver chain of his leash once, and he immediately began to suck the backs of her knees through her fishnet stockings. She paused a moment to enjoy his service. Then she yanked on the leash again, and he collapsed forward, placing his forehead on the floor, kowtowing deeply. "Good," she praised him. "Stuart?" she enquired.
"Over here," Stuart beckoned, indicating the wall. Two chains hung suspended from a strong dark beam in the ceiling - obviously a barer for the floor above. Wrist cuffs dangled at the end of each chain, a separator bar connecting the two. A cruel, leather-sheathed rigid phallus protruded from the wall, a block of wood placed below it. She led her slave over to the wall.
"Stand," she said, and he obediently rose to his feet. She turned him around and positioned him under the wrist cuffs. Thomas automatically raised his arms - he had no need to be told what to do. Stuart fastened each of his wrists into the cuffs, then backed him towards the wall. "Step up," Lydia said, and he lifted first his right foot, then his left, and rose onto the step. Stuart produced a tube of gel, squeezed a generous amount onto Lydia's fingers, then held Thomas's ass-cheeks apart. She deposited the lube around the puckered ring of his arse and began working into the hole, noting Thomas had done an excellent job of cleaning his rectum out earlier that night.
"Bend forward," Lydia instructed, and he did so, bending from the hips rather than the waist. His arse-hole was perfectly level with the phallus. She gripped him by the left shoulder and lowered him back onto it. He easily took the entire phallus up his arse, the black shaft of it disappearing before her eyes. "Good," she said. "Good slave."
She stepped away as Stuart turned the handle to a pulley that picked up the slack on the chains. Her slave's arms were fully extended above his head now. She bent down towards the wooden block.
"Lift," she said, tapping Thomas's right ankle. He lifted his foot and Lydia placed it to the side of the block, heel high and leaning against the wall. She tapped his left foot and she repeated the process, leaving him standing on tip-toe. She removed the block and placed it out of reach then returned to face her slave, now suspended, impaled, and utterly as risk.
"Move, and you'll tear that precious arsehole I love so much," she said. Thomas's eyes were wide. Lydia noted his hips were tilted backwards, his body was immobile. Stuart had angled the phallus perfectly when he'd attached it to the wall - Lydia was entirely confident her slave was not in any danger.
