Teresa pulled her car into my garage and entered through the garage entry. Slave was kneeling at the entry and greeted Mistress Teresa just like I had instructed her. Teresa acknowledged her then ordered her out to her car to unload all of her bags and to bring them up to Master's bedroom. Slave scurried away, as Teresa formally greeted me as her weekend Master. I greeted her and drew her to me onto my lap embracing her and giving her a passionate kiss which she returned with even more enthusiasm. Slave came through the garage and saw us there, in the moment, the reality of her status hitting her like a ton of bricks. She had never seen her husband with another woman before. Those kisses used to belong to her and her only. Once again another level of despair hit her as she realized what it was that she threw away and lost.
Teresa was first to notice her watching them. She broke my embrace and yelled at slave. "Don't just fucking stand there, cunt! Get my bags up to Master's and Mistress' room." It was like a slap to her face. She yelped and scurried up the stairs with bags in hand.
She faced me again, grabbing my bottom lip in her teeth and giving me a juicy slurp.
"Oh my god Master, I have so been looking forward to this!"
I smacked her on the ass, grabbing a good portion of cheek and kissed her again.
"That's good slave, I'm looking forward to you changing gears on the little cunt."
I lifted her up, still in my arms and she quickly wrapped her legs around my waist. I carried her to the dungeon room, brushing by my nearly invisible slave who had just exited the bedroom headed back to the garage for another load of bags from Mistress Teresa's car.
I dropped Teresa down on the leather ottoman and quickly commanded her to suck my cock. It had been a while and I wanted to shoot one off so that we could get that out of the way. She fished it out and went to work on it. She gobbled it up like her life depended on it. There was a sexual urgency to her, and anticipation that had been working on her all week long that finally exploded into her mouth and body.
With that out of the way, I bid her to look around and choose what she wanted from my arsenal of devices. Tonight she would have free reign on slave, and I was eager to see what she would do and how slave would react. Teresa smiled and admitted that she had thought about what she was going to do and had prepared by bringing along some toys as well.
I smiled and did something I rarely do. I gave her free access to my dungeon room. She was extremely complimented and did a quick inventory of gear and furniture. Certainly I had things in here that she had never played with before and now was perhaps her one and only chance to take advantage of it.
I took dinner in the kitchen at the table. Teresa and slave were required to eat their meals off of dishes on the floor. Teresa, after all may have been first slave, but she was still my slave this weekend.
After dinner I had slave wash up and then report to me in the living room where Teresa knelt between my legs slurping slowly on my cock. I motioned slave to kneel and watch us. The look on her face was priceless. It was a traumatic mixture of jealousy, humiliation, sadness, loss and frustration. Teresa had changed into a slippery black latex short dress, the hem of the dress riding up over her ass as she knelt and deep throated my cock. I had her play with herself, and one of Teresa's hands dropped down between her legs as she played with her glistening sweet pussy. She too was shaved. I glanced over to slave, her eyes dropped and her face flushed red with embarrassment. "Slave Teresa has earned the right to cum. That's a privilege you don't have slut!"
"Yes, Master." She whispered.
Soon Teresa came all over her fingers. Catching her breath, I pulled her up to my face and kissed her deeply while I smacked her ass briskly. The echo of my hand hitting that taunt, latex covered rear, reverberated off the walls of the living room.
Still embracing Teresa, I called slave over to me.
"Mistress Teresa will be taking over training of you this weekend. She is your Sister Slave in my household, but more importantly, she is First Slave. Do you know what that means cunt?"
"Yes, Master." She said. "Although she is a slave, she has authority over all other slaves in a household only overridden by Master himself. What she says must be carried out by other slaves."
"Correct," I said as I kissed Teresa again. "Slave Teresa, I know that you have been eager for this moment to begin." I gave her another deep kiss, slapped her in the face just to get her juices pumping and then said. "You may now begin your training of slave. I expect both of you to perform to your very best abilities. If I see either one of you slacking off, I will beat the both of you, regardless of whose fault it is."
They both agreed and then I allowed Teresa to disentangle herself from my grasp.
She stood imperiously before slave only now revealing the high heeled black leather pumps she wore to give her even more authority.
"Kiss my feet slave. Greet your Mistress properly and beg her to train you for your own good. Lick my toes and clean my shoes with your mouth and tongue, and convince me that you want this!" she sneered.
Slave bent down and greeted her new Mistress Teresa. She begged, thanked, licked, sucked and kissed the feet of her new Mistress. I floated into the background watching with keen interest and eroticism. Despite how big and mean men are, how strong they are, I always found women to be even more cruel and vindictive to another woman than any man could ever be. They just always knew how to push other woman's buttons. Already, Teresa had rained down a verbal assault to the slut cunt slave.
"That's right bitch, lick your Mistress's shoes and feet. That's all you're fucking good for! Did you like seeing your ex-husband getting his dick sucked? You aren't even worthy enough to suck his cock, so I'm told. I mean, what good is a slave, if they aren't even allow to suck and pleasure their Master's dick? That's Slave 101, isn't it slave?"
"Yes, Mistress Teresa." She said in between licks.
"Mistress will do just fine, cunt."
"Yes Mistress."
"I have never heard of a Master who had a slave that didn't suck cock..." she continued in on slave. "I mean I've seen slaves that were so bad at sucking cock that their Master would skip over that, but your Master has been bottled up for over a week, no one to release his cum, to swallow his seed, and he has a slave, here in his home, and she is not even worthy of doing the most basic of worship and pleasure to her Master."
"Yes, Mistress," she sobbed. She was worse than a slave. How could she call herself one when he had not even allowed her to do the most basic of tasks.
"So what are you then? You clearly aren't a slave. You can't even do that? Master is disgusted by you. You even squandered away your orgasms because while your Master slept frustrated and pent up, you had the gall to finger your dirty ugly hairy slit to orgasm every night. You denied your Master pleasure and took your own?"
She was crying but still sucked on Teresa's heels. "Yes Mistress. I'm not worthy. I have been selfish. I'm not a slave!"
Teresa smiled and stepped away from slave. Looking down at her tear stained face she smiled. "Good. Now you know what you aren't, let's see if I can maybe form you into something you aspire to be."
"Thank you Mistress." She cried. "Thank you for showing me what I truly am."
"Clear those tears away girl. For this weekend, you shall be titled "girl". You have not earned the title of slave yet. Teresa looked back at me for approval. I smiled and nodded my approval. Just fucking brilliant. What had taken me a week to strip down emotionally, Teresa took twenty minutes. Leave it to a woman to break another woman!
Teresa had spoken to me frankly over the week of her plans. She had heard the story of my cheating wife and was inclined to hate her from the very moment she met her. Over the course of the evening of the chastity belt fitting, she had observed several things wrong in my training of "girl". I must admit that I was blinded by her observations and we both rightfully concluded that emotionally I still was off my game with my ex-wife. I had been too lenient with her, too lax in my training. Teresa knew me better. She had told me that it was like seeing a broken down NASCAR trying to drag race a street rod. She knew my game was so much better and she offered to help me, since clearly there was too much history between "girl" and me.
She sent girl up to "our" bedroom to bring back her black leather duffle bag. Quickly she returned. Teresa then sent girl into the bathroom to piss and shit (since the enemas, girl was doing very little of the shitting!). Digging through her bag, she pulled out a spray can of liquid adhesive and a bright pink bobbed wig.
I raised my eyebrow, to which she replied. "I know you enjoy seeing her at her ugliest, but it's too much for me." I nodded my assent.
She marched into the bathroom and after a few minutes escorted girl out to the living room with the bright pink wig adhered to her bald head. "Don't worry about the itching, that doesn't go away." Teresa cheerfully volunteered.
"Yes, Mistress." Girl said.
She had girl spin around for us. She asked my opinion of the wig. I called it ridiculous and laughed. Girl turned bright red.
"I think it's an improvement Master." Teresa said. She fused with the hair getting certain strands to sit just so. "She was too ugly all bald and stubbly. With those saggy tits, paunchy stomach and sex hidden behind her belt, she needed a bit of a feminine touch."
The next two hours Teresa, with vigor taught girl all new positions. There was a special position for all sorts of things. All of them could be called upon by special hand signals or short words. Drilling girl relentlessly, Teresa taught her how to recognize not only the commands for those positions, but also the appropriate times and events when she would be relied upon to strike a proper position without any command. The way we explain it to new slaves is that they are suddenly placed in a situation where most of the communication skills, i.e. talking has become restricted. The positions were like nonverbal communications. Each position relayed a particular emotion or feeling.
Teresa motioned her hand into the signal for begging, and girl promptly dropped to her knees and threw her hands up in the begging position. Teresa lowered here hand down, and girl dropped out of the begging position and lowered herself down till her face was touching the ground, her hands stretched out on the floor before her. Teresa then turned around and faced me.
"I hope Master is pleased with my progress," Teresa said.
Until girl was specifically instructed by some form of communication to change positions, she would have to stay prostate on the ground.
