Rosebuds Third Day

This should more or less stand alone, but will probably make more sense if you read the first two sections. As always, this is just fantasy.

I'm sure the irony that she was the least restrained she'd been since her capture, but unable to do anything wasn't lost on Rosebud. The paralytic would keep her helpless for most of the night, and with Master sleeping on top of her, she'd be too weak to escape once it started wearing off. And even if she did manage to, my system would give her another dose if she snuck out into the hall again.

It would have been a challenge to even make it that far. It's true her legs and arms were unchained, but her hands were locked into special bondage gloves that kept them fixed in position like doll hands. They were easy enough to adjust from outside, but there was nothing she could do to remove them or shift the position of her fingers. With the bedroom door locked this time, she probably couldn't make it out -- at least not without alerting me.

Nor could Rosebud call for help. Her mouth was held closed by a special dental gag which, as far as she knew, was completely incapable of being opened or removed. It contained a reservoir which could store drugs and release them into her mouth automatically, as she'd learned when she tried to escape. Around her neck, she wore what she'd recently discovered was a shock collar. And finally, over her head was a silver mask with built-in noise-cancelling headphones and a dimmable cover over her eyes, which had plunged her into white noise and darkness, respectively.

I'd considerd binding Rosebud up like Cubby, my slave and sometimes trainer for new slaves, currently buzzing away in the corner in her sleep sack, but I decided to let the anticipation build. It had been a long day for all of us, and I'd fallen asleep on top of her, resting on her big, soft breasts with my dick buried inside, after she'd woken me up and earned a dose of paralytic during her overnight escape attempt. Sometimes a little hands-on contact can be just as effective as extra bondage or a plug or two.

I wasn't sure if I'd spun her onto her stomach, or Rosebud had turned over during the night, but when I woke up, I was half straddling her, the cover askew, and the new tattoo on her fat right buttcheek giving me ideas. I looked at it again, admiring the linework Cubby had done. It said, "Shaft My Rosebud" in elegant lettering, with a vine threading out from between her butt cheeks and through the letters, finally ending in a rosebud, positioned like a period. Shaft My Rosebud was now her name, her role, a souveneir of our first night of training, and a permanet reminder for anyone who used her of the best way to get my new slave's attention. I rolled on top of her, my cock still slick with silicone lube from last night's festivities, and sunk deep into her ass.

I dozed like that for another half an hour or so, enjoying the heat and pressure of a new conquest. Yesterday, Rosebud had met two two rather endowed friends and a third who was downright gigantic. I'd had her introduce herself by bending over to show off her new tattoo, a practice which would be standard at least until I removed her gag. Her backdoor was still a bit stretched from the experience, making it nice and easy to slide in. I grabbed her large right breast where it splayed out from under her, gently tweaking the wide, flat nipple I'd had Cubby tattoo fluorescent pink between Rosebud's acquisition and her first day of training. She whimpered, but I could see that her hand was under her and she was humping it, working my cock in the process. But with her hand held stiff by the glove, and my own rather sizable cock filling her behind, she seemed unable to find a way to get herself off. I daydreamed, slowly working up a rhythm until, burying myself deep in her ass, I came, sighing and kissing the back of my slave's hooded head. A perfect start to the day.

I pulled her out of bed and onto the floor, then lead her into the bathroom for morning ablutions. I'd been having my slave Cubby Hole ("Cubby" for short) handle cleaning Rosebud, but the senior slave was still in her sleepsack as a penalty for losing a game against Rosebud by coming first. I'd had them both bound at the time, and Rosebud wouldn't be talking, so I was reasonably sure that Cubby had no idea that I'd rigged the game and perhaps never would.

Rosebud's reward was sleeping in my bed with minimal bondage, but that had been a setup too. As soon as she'd thought I was asleep, she'd climbed out of bed and snuck through the open bedroom door into the hall, where she'd been drugged and shocked by her collar for good measure.

Today, I'd have the chance to enjoy both girls as slaves, and implement a few extra restrictions I hoped would help Rosebud make a better choice, should she encounter future escape opportunities.

I frequently used the ensuite master bathroom for slaves, and there was a lowered area of floor with a drain in the center, and a built-in enema setup her Mistress used on her daily. In the past I'd let Rosebud use the toilet to drain her bladder, but in light of her transgression, I assumed her mistess' practice of making her piss on all fours. She hunched cutely, her body rosy with embarassment, then modestly lifted the leg facing away from me and released her bladder. She finished, and I prepared the next phase for her, filling the enema bag with warm water. "Looks like you need a bigger plug today, Rosebud," I commented, before greasing up her rear,packing it with a rubber plug and opening the stopper. I stroked her back like a puppy, watching her alternately shiver and press against me for comfort. That I was the one causing the discomfort in the first place seemed to matter not at all to Rosebud; I was the only other person here, and she was quite used to intimate physical contact with me.

Once I'd flushed her, I strapped on an apron, and sprayed her whole body down with a nozzle, enjoying the way she jumped and squeaked when it struck her sensitive nipples or clit. Then I toweled her off, kissing her pink skin. She seemed to find this reassuring, lowering her head and pressing it against me like an affectionate dog. When I locked the training stilettos back on her and removed the heels so she couldn't walk in them, she barely even sighed in complaint. I stroked her a bit, glad to see she was no longer tormented by the impulse to run which had brought her trouble already, and led her back into the bedroom.

This house had once been divided into multiple units, and there was still a kitchen upstairs, somewhat smaller than the main one downstairs, but more than big enough for me to make breakfast while my slaves frollicked. First, I let Cubby out of the sleep sack. She'd spent the night wrapped tightly in it, with her ass and pussy both plugged with toys that shocked her and vibrated intermittently. She was tired, grumpy, and very wet, and I'm sure at least a little sweaty inside her catsuit, but behaved herself and stayed quiet as instructed when I removed the gag. I gave her a few minutes to stretch and clean up in the bathroom, then set my slaves up for the first phase of the day.

First, I attended to Rosebud, laying her on her back on the floor and doubling over her arms and legs inside of specially made leather sacks, closed with straps. They were padded on the bottom, as comfortable as such things could be. Cubby was quite petite compared to the voluptuous Rosebud, and more flexible. I simply used leather straps to double her arms and legs, and outfitted her with little rubber pads to limit the pressure on her knees and elbows. Finally, I led my little pack into the kitchen.

"Okay you two. I'm going to make some breakfast. Feel free to play, but don't get underfoot, okay?" Rosebud had barely managed to walk into the kitchen on her knees and elbows, but Cubby had quite a bit of practice, and was very agile like that. Almost before I'd finished speaking, she lowered her head and charged Rosebud. Rosebud instinctively turned and reared up, trying to face Cubby, a mistake the more senior slave had doubtless anticipated. She pressed forward, easily flipping Rosebud onto her back.

"Watch where you're going, Rosebud," I said, as her flailing knee bumped my shin. "I think you've earned enough punishment already. Stop being a nuissance, and don't you dare come without my permission. Cubby, you may have one orgasm this morning." Cubby let out a low growl, squeezing Rosebud's face between her thighs, which made the junior slave freeze. I watched as she lowered her slit against the slave's mask, growling and nipping every time Rosebud squirmed. Finally, she induced the junior slave to spread her legs, and lowered her own head, alternately biting, licking, and sucking. I watched, enjoying the sight of my slaves playing together as I mixed the pancake batter. By the time I'd buttered the griddle and made the first batch of silver dollars, Cubby had enjoyed her release. Unfortunately, Rosebud had decided to continue her rebellious streak, coming twice despite my warnings.

Satisfied, Cubby relaxed, using Rosebud as a pillow, and I knelt beside her, feeding her by hand like I used to. I felt a little bad for Rosebud, unable to enjoy the hot meal the normal way, so in between bites, I poured syrup down her slit for Cubby to lick up. Apparently, Rosebud was intent on being a brat this morning, and took my gesture as weakness, breaking my rule a third time and soaking Cubby's face in the process. Although by the whimpering she made afterwards, at least she had the good grace to regret it.

I enjoyed my own plate of pancakes, then made Cubby get off of Rosebud so the new girl could have her own breakfast. I plugged a small tube into the front of her gag, suspending a meal replacement shake above her, and checked the news. Cubby passed the time rubbing against my leg and eyeing Rosebud proprietarily, while the junior slave placidly lay on the floor, drinking her breakfast, curvaceous and utterly resigned. I watched a shaft of morning light reflect off her mask, where her eyes sat in darkness, wondering if she noticed the warmth on her breasts. She certainly noticed the next moment, when a fidgety Cubby caught Rosebud's nipple in her mouth, sucking hard as she turned her head to take in the sun.

Apparently, the game and the night of bondage had put Cubby in exactly the mood I'd hoped, and watching her handle Rosebud was a pleasure. She understood me, what I was going for, and how much leeway I'd give her. She was invaluable as a trainer and sometimes caretaker of the estate, but as chief slave, she was still irresistible. Perhaps her other roles would take a backseat until Rosebud was a little further along, because this was just too nice. I relished the way my alpha slave tormented her rival to tease me, the beta putting up her head in mute protest, then whimpering and sighing in resignation, her hind-quarters twitching in need. And suddenly I knew her punishment.

I'd been contemplating various bondage scenes, exercises, and even a bit of impact play for Cubby, leading to some set of rituals which she'd use to demonstrate her penitence and agreement to adhere to my rules. Now it occured to me that I didn't want Rosebud as the sort of meticulous slave who would follow a long lists of rules exactly -- I had Cubby for that. I wanted Rosebud to stay off balance, in need and anticipation -- a scatterbrained, horny little submissive who couldn't find her way out of a paper bag without the help of a cock in her ass to focus her mind, and a patient voice to give directions. I turned on Rosebud's hearing, and set about assigning roles for the day.

"So, you both got into mischief last night." Cubby turned her head to look at me, the nipple still in her mouth. Rosebud whimpered, then let out a little squeak. "Rosebud, getting the better of your mistress went to your head, and you snuck out of your master's bed without permission. And as for you, Cubby, you let this soft, submissive, anal slut get the best of you. Of course that went to her head." Cubby nodded seriously, dropping the nipple with a parting bite, causing Rosebud to utter a resentful grunt.

"Hush," I said, stroking Rosebud's face. "Today, you have to face the consequences. Both of you. Rosebud, you have just two rules. Rule 1: Every time you are greeted, you will show off your name to me as you did for my friends." I looked at her. She had her head down, and seemed to be well on her way to falling asleep. The sound of my zipper didn't rouse her, nor did the sound of my lying down on the floor, but she came to as my dick pressed between her butt cheeks.

"Hold still. This is a tricky angle." I grabbed her flank and lifted her ass cheek, sliding in with a sigh. "As I was saying. Since you listen best this way, you will hold your ass up in the air when I or anyone else addresses you. Do you understand, now?" She nodded vaguely and raised her leg for me to stroke her. Instead, I pulled out and stood up. "Are you sure you understand, Rosebud?" I asked.

She nodded, craning her head toward me. I could practically see the gears turning in her tired brain, and a few moments later, she realized her mistake and scrambled onto her feet, turning away from me and lowering her chest against the floor with a tired huff. "Well, you got there eventually," I said, scratching her perineum lightly as she lined her holes up with my hand.

I slid my fingers forward and down between her lips. "Now, Rule 2: me and your mistress are in charge of your sexual relief. You are not allowed to rub yourself at all, since your cunt got you in trouble in the first place. I'll try to make that easy enough for even you by keeping your hands bound." I felt her body twitch at the insult. Good, she was paying attention. However she felt about it, it wasn't making her less eager, either. She was nice and slick, and was rubbing against my fingers with a sort of nervous rocking I could hear in her breathing.

"As for the three orgasms you had without permission this morning, we'll see about working them off."

"Ummph," she said, raising an arm in the air. "Hmmm mmmph." I smiled, understanding. "For at least as long as it takes to work off your three orgasms, and maybe longer. That's how long."

"As for you," I said, sitting in front of Cubby, "you'll be responsible for herding Rosebud and making sure she's paying attention." She nodded, lowering her head and opening her mouth. "Just clean me, thank you," I saw her eyes flick to Rosebud and narrow, then the flicker of a smile as she went to work on my shaft, already plotting revenge on Rosebud for making her taste the slave's ass. "I can't be stopping every 5 minutes to ream Rosebud into paying attention." Rosebud woke up enough to wag her ass at the mention of her name. I tapped Cubby on the head, and she pulled off me, looking up and giving me a final mischievous lick just below the head. I began to unstrap her arms. "You'll be spending some of the day on all fours, so dress accordingly," I said, moving to her legs. "Grab my yard bag, and...."

* * *

While Cubby was fetching supplies, I went to work on Rosebud's bondage. I would have liked to keep her on knees and elbows, of course, but her body just wasn't up for it. Cubby had a good body shape for that, small, light, and strong, and even she started to wear out after a couple hours. Rosebud, with her wide hips, round butt, soft belly and full breasts, had been in the position for less than an hour, much of which she'd spent lying on her side and being fondled and fed, and she already seemed wiped out. I didn't mind making accomodations; she'd be more than helpless enough on her hands and knees.

I had promised to chain her arms so she wasn't tempted to play with herself, and that presented a bit of a challenge. At the end, I settled on a special special leather collar with an outer ring that tightens with pressure -- like a choke chain, but gentle enough to work on the thin skin of a human slave. I fastened elastic cord between it and her wrist cuffs, with just enough play to allow her hands to brush her lower belly if she was willing to choke herself a bit. The elastic would eliminate jarring on her neck, and of course I wouldn't want to use my good bondage rope in the garden.

I strapped her into a canvas harness, tightening horizontal straps around her waist, hips, and above and below her breasts. The straps locked to a vertical strap down the back, with a built-in handle that could be very convenient when the slave got too dirty or too frisky, and had seperate vertical straps in the front to tighten each section. There was, a swappable buckle system that passed between the leg, but I left that empty for now.

To secure her legs, I added thick canvas thigh cuffs, and attached them to her ankle cuffs with thick elastic cords, so that it would take quite a bit of effort to straighten her legs more than a few degrees beyond a right angle, and they'd be impossible to extend enough to stand on. Finally, I covered her gloves and shoes in double-layer stuffed canvas covers designed to look like paws. They were big, floppy things that would blunt whatever remaining dexterity her gloves and shoes left her, but that wasn't the main purpose. They were really there to keep her gloves and shoes clean. and hopefully help her get into the spirit of the game as well.

I removed the breathable silver hood from her shaved head, strapping her into a light tan canvas bondage hood, wich I laced tightly in back. It had an attached snap-on blindfold, which I could lock up to give her vision or down to blind her, as well as a simple snap closure over the mouth. I opened it, and her pouty red lips pressed out of the tightly laced canvas. I'd felt between them for the valves to feed and water her, or to top up the drug reservoirs in her semi-permanent gag, but I'd never really looked at them since I'd acquired her. I could see that Cubby had done a great job with the implants, making the natural pout of her small mouth borderline lewd in a way I found very appealing. "Kiss your Master if you plan for luck, " I said, placing my hand under it. It was a very sweet, meek kiss. but that was expected when all she could move was her lips. I pulled my hand back, shivering as I contemplated the pleasures that mouth might offer, once she no longer needed the gag. Finally, I strapped some custom knee pads on her, attached to a stiff inner that would further restrict leg movement, and we were ready to go.

Moving new slaves up and downstairs can be an inconvenience, and now that slave training has become more a hobby than a profession, I rarely bother to go through the trouble of training a girl to go up and downstairs on hands and knees. It's frustrating for both of us, and not entirely safe, and once a girl is fully trained, it's a skill she doesn't need anymore. So a few years ago, I had a small elevator installed that goes between my garage and the top floor of my estate. From the garage, I can easily bring slaves upstairs for cosmetic procedures, processing, cleaning, and so on, walk out a side exit to the backyard, or walk them into my basement dungeon via a short ramp. From the downstairs, the entrance is well hidden, and the wing of the top floor I use for slaves is off-limits to most guests, which keeps my activities very secure.

The whole elevator is done in a classic style, with burnished brass handles and chrome mirrored walls, and I even have a special cart stored in the garage, which I can use to move girls around. I didn't want Rosebud to know much about the layout of my home yet, but I opted to remove the blindfold for the ride down, so she could get a look at herself. I had left her lips uncovered, and she could see herself, naked but for the straps and the thatch of red hair I'd left on her mound, her breasts topped with unnaturally pink tattooed nipples hanging below her, and her expanded lips, shockingly red and pouty against the white mask. Her Mistress had thoughtfull applied a headband, with a pair of floppy ears that hung at the sides of her head, wobbling when she moved.