Toy awoke to the feeling of the vice-like grip of the vacuum bed decreasing. Her fifth day as a slave and some things seemed to be settling into a routine. This was a Wednesday, and Master would be going to work as he had the previous two days. Mistress will have released her in time to cook her owner breakfast and be available sexually should he desire.
After he left, Mistress would set her tasks. Mostly cleaning, but also cooking and baking. She would almost certainly continue to train her to be a better slave too. So far, she had been given rigorous training in oral sex, as well as how to behave or perform during a flogging. The welts from that lesson, along with the ones earnt the first night in her collar, still throbbed and burnt on her backside.
She had accepted Mistress' collar on Friday evening. She had been encased in latex all that time, except for a wash and change of catsuit on Monday. So perhaps Mistress would be allowing her a change again Today? The shower and change of clothes had been conducted under the supervision of Mistress Victoria. She was helped to strip in a blacked-out bathroom illuminated only by a dim greenish lamp that was once used in a darkroom for old chemical photography. After showering, Toy's skin was examined closely by Mistress, using a torch, before the dominatrix helped encase the slave girl in latex once more.
However, as she was helped from the latex sheets of her overnight prison, it was clear Today was not going to follow the routine of the last two weekdays.
Mistress was in her nurse uniform, and a glance at the wall clock told her Master would have already left for work.
"Toy, Professor Boult is here to examine you and see how you are doing. So we will be quick in the bathroom so as not to keep her waiting. Is that clear?"
Toy nodded her understanding though she did indeed have lots of questions. Why had she been woken after Master had left was top of the list? Still, solidly gagged, the slave could ask no questions, so she followed the nurse to the bathroom.
Without being told, Toy assumed the position to grant Mistress access to her crotch zip and her anal plug. Cool air wafted over her bare skin as the dominatrix unsealed the suit and deflated the anal phallus. Toy grunted into her gag as the plug was withdrawn and the tube for the enema inserted.
She felt the warm soapy water enter her bowls, and soon the cramps started convulsing her gut. After what seemed an age, the tube was removed, and the slave was instructed to evacuate herself. This always seemed foolish as she could not have kept it in even had she wanted. Toy took the opportunity to empty her bladder too. Unscheduled bathroom breaks cost six demerits, and Toy was learning fast she did not want to earn even one.
The plug was replaced and re-inflated before Toy was led down to the kitchen. In a parody of the earlier process, the gag was removed, and whatever it was she was being fed with was injected into her stomach directly. Fed and watered the feeding tube was removed, and the inflatable gag was reinstalled.
As Mistress worked, Toy reflected that submission was the only sane response to such treatment. No one could maintain their dignity after having even their most basic bodily functions controlled like this.
Mistress Vicky then secured her wrists behind her and attached a leash to the collar locked about her throat. Thus, tethered like an animal, Toy, formally known as Angela, was led into what she once considered her own living room for an audience with the woman who had condemned her to the latex prison she was now locked within.
Professor Boult was sat in Master's favourite chair, reading something on an iPad. Instead of the white coat she had worn at the clinic, she was dressed in an expensive dark skirt suit and patent stilettos. As Toy teetered in on the end of Mistress' leash, the professor looked up and smiled.
"Ahh, and here is the patient herself," enthused the professor. "My, you do look good in latex, my dear, and I am very impressed that you have adapted to the footwear so quickly."
Toy's feet were locked into ballet boots. Cruel footwear exclusive to the BDSM fetish world. They forced the wearer to walk en point, that is on the tips of their toes, all the time.
"Kneel, slave," ordered Mistress Victoria. Toy obediently dropped to her knees and assumed the position she had been taught.
"Well, that is very impressive too," observed the professor, "I can see you have been busy, Vicky."
"Thank's Prof, though Toy is a delight to train. A natural submissive, born to be collared."
"Yes, well to that point we need to address some consent issues. The professor turned her attention to the kneeling slave. "Nurse Vicky has informed me that you have freely given your consent for her to hold you in bondage, girl. Is that correct?"
Toy nodded in affirmative. She had been dreading being seen this way by someone not partaking in the role-play itself, but Professor Boult was being very matter-of-fact about this.
"I see. Can you also confirm that you have been renamed Toy and that Nurse Vicky is your Mistress, and your partner... Umm... John? Is now your Master?"
Toy nodded once more.
"Very good. So you accept that they have complete control of you and authority over you?"
Again Toy nodded confirmation. In response, the professor withdrew a clipboard from an open briefcase she had placed beside the chair.
"Nurse Vicky, could you release your slave's wrists, please? I require it to sign some new consent forms."
Toy felt her wrists released, and so took the proffered form and pen that were being held out to her. She peered at the paper, but she could not make out the writing through the nearly opaque lenses of the hood. Pointing at the lenses and then the paper, she gesticulated she could not read it.
Mistress took the clipboard and scanned the paperwork.
"Slave, this is a consent form saying that you give me and your partner the authority to consent or deny any medical procedures to be carried out on you henceforth. Essentially we'd get to decide what happens to you. Not you. As a slave, you get no choice. If you sign this, the professor will no longer talk to you about your treatment. Instead, she will discuss it with your Master and me. It's not a legal document condemning you to real slavery. It does give your Master and me legal powers over you and absolves the professor from consulting you. Do you understand?"
Toy nodded as she absorbed the information. This was roleplay. Next time the gag was removed, she could call Mistress by her name rather than her title, and the collar would come off. But Toy had been discovering a new self-identity over these last few days. While she had acquiesced to the latex clothing on medical grounds, she had discovered she truly loved being enslaved.
However, if she signed this document, it would not all stop with a word. Master or Mistress could make her do stuff. The professor would not listen to her objections or concerns. Master and Mistress could ignore her safe word too. She would be like an animal to a vet. It may not really legally make her a slave, but to all intents and purposes, she would be one. Inevitably, just as the first time she was gagged and unable to safeword, the fires of arousal erupted within. She knew she needed to do this.
Before she could overthink it or talk herself out of what may be a rash decision, she reached up for the clipboard and pen. Mistress gave her the pen and held out the clipboard pointing with her free hand where her slave should sign. Toy scrawled her signature, unable to see if the pen was working. After signing, she added, "a.k.a. Slave Toy." Taking the pen back off Toy, Mistress wrote on the form too and handed back both to the professor.
Mistress then pulled an envelope from a pocket on her dress and held it out to her boss.
"What's this, Vicky?" Inquired the professor.
"I'm afraid it's my resignation, Sally."
"What! Why? Aren't you enjoying the work you've been doing with me?"
"Sally, I really have, but that's some of the motivation for this move. You see, I'm not just quitting your team, I'm giving up nursing."
"Why, dear?"
"Two reasons. The first is this slut here. As her nurse, I cannot fuck the little cow, and I'm itching to find out how good she is at cunnilingus. The second reason is a long-term plan come to fruition. I'm out enough with my personal sexual fetishes that you knew to have me transferred to your team. It's been my dream to own my own fetish clothing store. Hence my close links to the store we sourced this slave's outfit from. The owner of the shop signed over the store to me Yesterday. I am now the proud owner of Shiny People."
"Oh! In that case, I suppose congratulations are in order. I hope it brings you both happiness and riches."
"Thank you," beamed Toy's Mistress.
"So where does that leave things vis-à-vis the patient and where is the partner... erm... John?"
