"Stand and present yourself Slave, legs apart, arms behind your back." Mistress barks the order, and I rush to comply. "Slave. You're going to help me to train some of the new intake. The experience will also help solidify some of your own training. I don't want to use your controller too much this morning, I want you to voluntarily engage in the training. Because of that I'm going to cage you so you don't get carried away. Stand still while I attach your cuff."
I stand tense and nervous as she produces a stainless steel cage, shaped approximately like a large hollow penis, and slightly curved. She approaches me, and grasping my cock in her hands attaches a split ring around the base behind my testicles, then slides the cage over my penis, securing it to the ring, and with a 'click' locks the device shut. Looking down I notice that my balls still hang free, but are trapped between the cage and the ring, the cage encasing my flaccid penis tightly. A sudden feeling of helplessness washes over me as I realize that I will not be able to touch my penis with the cage in place. Rationally I know that this physical cage is far less restrictive than the virtual restraints offered by my behavoral controller, but the feeling of being physically constrained is far more immediate and invasive.
Mistress notices the unconscious reaction, and gently cups my balls with her open hand. The sensation is incredible, and my penis immediately begins to become engorged, rapidly filling the small stainless steel prison. The sense of being aroused but not being able to become fully erect because of the cage is incredibly focussing - the sensations of need and denial dominating my awareness. The feeling of being controlled by this woman is so powerful that I begin to panic, breathing more rapidly as my penis strains uncomfortably against its constraint.
"Let's give you something to calm and focus you." Mistress says, walking around to my rear and placing her hand on one of my buttocks. I feel something cold press between my ass cheeks, and feel a well lubricated dildo slide gently into my anus as Mistress guides it into place. My muscles instinctively clench at the invasion, but the tension seems only to pull the item further in. As it comes to a rest I feel a small hook beginning to press on my perineum, preventing it from disappearing into me. "There." Mistress coos. "That should help you focus, it should sit just above your prostate, and massage you gently as you move. The sensation is usually very calming, and should help you stay focussed on your reward. I want you to know that if you do well today we can get this cage off you and get you some well-earned pleasure. If not I think we'll leave it in place for a while. Do you understand?"
I nod, feeling the gentle pressure of the massager on my prostate, and the soft tingling feelings as it shifts slightly with every tiny movement of my body. It's a very different feeling to the immediate arousal of genital stimulation, but the subtle sensations are impossible for me to ignore, reminding me with every tiny motion of my arousal and need, an my dependence on Mistress for my release and reward.
----
The door opens and two naked young women are propelled reluctantly through it by a third woman wearing a white shift and carrying something that resembles a cattle prod. The two new slaves stagger into the room, one collapsing into a fetal position and beginning to sob uncontrollably, the other hugging herself with her arms and crossing her legs to try to preserve some modesty while she looks around frantically to try to get her bearings. She looks horrified as she notices the two chairs, elaborate constructions that recollect the idea of gynecologist's chairs, and starts to back away from them with a shuffling step.
"Welcome slaves." Mistress says. "This slave is going to help you get comfortable in the restraining chairs - now hop up and place your arms and legs into the restraints." She glances at me, and nods in their direction. I am horrified at the idea that I will be forced to participate in the debasing of these women, but after a moments hesitation I decide that the kindest thing to do is to help them avoid the pain I know will be the result of disobedience.
Mistress dismisses the guard with a nod as I approach the naked woman who is standing, shivering, as she clutches her arms to her breasts and crotch. She shakes her head with fear and panic as I approach her, her curly blonde hair tossed from side to side as she backs away towards one of the chairs. She jumps in shock and surprise as she backs into the chair, and I put my arm on her shoulder to reassure her. She begins to whimper, shaking her head, and I try to soothe her with a few kind words. I gesture to her to step up into the chair, and while she shakes her head vigorously and murmurs "No - Please, no", she seems stunned with fear, but does not resist as I guide her hips to the seat and gently lift her legs into the stirrups.
I take one of her wrists, and her arm goes limp as I do, letting me guide it to the restraint that is level with her neck. I place her left arm in the contoured holder, cinching the wide velcro wrist strap tight. As I do, I notice that the restraint is set slightly back relative to the rest of the chair, forcing her torso forward and making her breasts stand more tightly proud and firm. As I take her right wrist and lock it in place I feel her body relax slightly, as if the acceptance of the restraints has allowed her to give up her struggles for a moment. She looks into my eyes, and I see the terror and confusion that I know so well in her pleading look. I whisper to her to relax and obey, and she nods, her body seeming to shudder with a desperate acceptance. I move down her body, noticing that her neat dark nipples stand out in stark contrast to the milky white skin of her modest, firm breasts.
She quivers at my touch on her flat belly as I stretch the strap across her hips and cinch it tight, securing her waist to the chair, then move down her body. I notice the enticing 'v' of her trim thighs and the almost hairless cleft of her neat vulva. I position her thighs in the restraints, attaching the straps at the knees as I pull them up and back, separating and lifting them into the stirrups, the movement exposing her vulva and gently tugging at her closed labia. She shakes her head as I do this, pleading with me to help her, but I put my finger to my lips, and she quiets down, letting me manipulate her feet into the holders. I cinch the last strap, and take a second to take in the beautiful sight of her restrained body, helpless and fully on display in the restraining chair.
For some reason the thought pops into my head that there is nothing more beautiful than a slave cuffed and ready for training. I notice my cock straining in its cage, and the insistent feelings of arousal from the prostate massager. Shaking myself from that train of thought, I turn back to face Mistress, who nods in approval at my work, then glances at the woman on the floor, and I take it that I am to encourage her to take her place on the other chair.
I kneel down and gently stroke the slave's dark hair to try to comfort her as she crouches, sobbing, on the floor. As I do I can't help but notice that the bent position she is in emphasizes the Rubenesque curves of her buttocks and thighs. She starts at my touch, and shrinks back into her crouch. I try to calm her with some reassuring words, and she slowly sits up on her knees, sobbing and cowering away from me as she does. As she rests on her calves I take in her body, which is a shade darker than that other girl, and, while not fat, is definitely plump. Her breasts hang full and pendulous, with large dark areolae and generous erect nipples that stand to attention on their ample mounds.
"Slave." Mistress calls out to the girl. "I think you've already felt the touch of the probe. Get up on the chair now, or you'll feel it again. Don't think I won't motivate you if you don't give immediate obedience."
The girl seems to visibly shrink in fear at the threat, and I hold out my hand to help her up. She takes it, shaking, and stumbles to her feet. I guide her to the second chair, and she reluctantly takes her place, her plump buttocks comfortably filling the molded contour of the seat. I move her gently back into the chair, her body reclining, and take her left wrist in my hand. She resists at first, then allows me to place her hand in the restraint, cinching the wrist strap secure. I whisper to her that I need her other hand, and she places it hesitantly in the guide while I pull the restraint tight.
Reclining now the in the chair, her breasts rest on top of her chest. The generous mounds of soft enticing flesh that frame her still-erect nipples are simultaneously pulled taught and pushed forward by the restraints. She looks at me, following my hungry gaze down to her chest, and then looks back up at me in renewed fear, she begins to struggle in her bonds, shaking her unrestrained lower body and kicking her legs while her tightly held wrists limit her movement. I notice with shame that I am aroused by the sight of her breasts as they bounce uncontrolled with the energy of her struggle.
