Chapter 1
I was ecstatic. A complete slave at last. No longer the apprentice and having to live
two lives, the one ostensibly a free citizen but in truth a slave-in-training. I had
passed through a series of rigorous tests of my commitment to slavery and had suffered
constantly at the hands of my whipmaster — whom I had come to love. Now my Master, whom I
had known only as Sir Guy but had just discovered was none other than Lord Grey whose
estate, Winchelthorpe, I had visited as a slave apprentice, had taken me in down there as
a permanent slavegirl.
I had expected that he would quickly exercise his droit du seigneur and take my
cherry, which I had carefully preserved all these years but after revealing himself to me
as my Master, he had gently told me that that honour he would pass to one of his friends.
I had been sad that it was not going to be the man I now knew I loved: my whipmaster,
James McCrae or that failing him, my owner himself, and that he could so easily relegate
what to me was one of the most important events in my life to a mere friend.
But then James had walked in. I had been flabbergasted that my Master was going to be
so insensitive as to have the man he knew I loved escort me to this friend, whoever he was
— and then Lord Grey had said he wanted me to meet his friend…
And so James came forward (now dressed in more normal clothing than the usual spiked
leather codpiece I had until now seen him in) and took my hand, nodding at his friend, my
Master and then grinning at my astonishment. I didn’t say anything of course. I was still
the slavegirl and he apparently, far from being the servant of the man I thought of as Sir
Guy, was in fact a friend of his alter ego, Lord Grey.
“Surprised, eh, my little slavegirl?” he said as he took me up to his guest suite in the
big house.
“Astounded, more like,” I replied as we bounded up the great staircase to the guest
wing. “I always imagined you were Sir Guy’s servant, a sort of extension of his
Mastership over me?”
“Well, I was, too, sort-of. Certainly as your whipmaster, even if I wasn’t Sir
Guy’s servant. You see, Katrina, I have been as much a Master all my life as you have
been a slave. Like you, I dreamed of slavery; except that in my case the dreams were of
owning girls and using them as slaves, whereas you just wanted to be one.
“I happen to be a very successful businessman and I met William, Lord Grey to you,
as mutual directors of a company we both have interests in. We knew straight away we had
like thoughts and we were soon exchanging confidences about slavery. He invited me down
here one weekend and my study of slave discipline soon came out. I am not his exclusive
whipmaster for I don’t always have the time to devote to a girl but the moment I saw you I
was so glad I had made myself available to train you to be a slave …”
I stared at him in awe and in love as we reached his suite. He was naked in a trice
and led me over to his bed — yes, white satin sheets, the covers already turned down and
in fact stripped right off, as my bed had always been back at Sir Guy’s apartment.
Once more I stared at the beauty of his slim but athletic body while his eyes
devoured mine with as much ardour. I am also slender but I know (for Sir Guy had always
made me stand in front of the mirror in the inspection room at the apartment and describe
it to him in great detail, omitting nothing and not trying to hide my lights under a
bushel) that I have a good figure and soft, flawless skin.
James now took me in his arms and for the first time we were able to freely touch
and fondle each other. That moment only lasted a short time for we were both anxious for
the real thing. I should say here that once before he had lain with me naked but then, we
had known my virginity was the property of my Master and we had both forced ourselves not
to succumb.
Now there were no such constraints and as I revelled in the sensations of his
satin-smooth skin and fine muscles against my own flesh, he slipped his iron-hard member
into my eager portal. I clung to his hard body and he gave an almighty thrust — and it
was done. It hurt — a trifling hurt really after all I had been through over the last
year, and then he made long and wonderful love to me. It seemed like hours and perhaps it
was. I do know those hours were the most wonderful I had ever experienced in my whole
life.
I can’t describe the details of the act. It seems almost sacrilegious to do so, for
while I can describe sexual acts I had to perform with others as part of my slavery, those
between James and me were, even then, as if between a man and his wife and do not permit
description. But more to the point, I can’t actually remember the details. They
disappeared in a swirling mist of ecstasy and delight that overwhelmed me totally.
Later, as we lay side by side on the huge bed, our fingers idly tracing little
patterns over each other’s flesh, we talked about my slavery.
“You know girl, if you want to, we can go away from here right now and become one …”
He raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at me and then smiled. “But I don’t
think it would be wise … not just yet, eh?”
I smiled back up at him, reached up and kissed him again. “No, James. I think not.
Mind you, that thought has been crossing and re-crossing my mind over and over again over
the last few minutes. I love you as I never thought such love was possible. I have never
in my life felt this way about anyone and I know you are my man — forever and ever, but I
still have this weird urge to be a slave — to be Sir Guy’s slave … Isn’t it funny, I
still think of him as Sir Guy although I suppose that will fade away…”
“I understand, Katrina. Believe me, nothing would please me more than to sweep you
up, right now, carry you down to my car and take you home but I don’t want to be your
Master. I want you to be my wife and mother of my children and, until you have worked the
slavery thing out of your system, that will not be possible.
“Therefore, I am going to leave now. Leave you here as Lord Grey’s slavegirl. You
may stay in that capacity as long as you need. I will be waiting but I think it might be
better for me not to come here again until you are ready to leave your slavery once and
for all. Do you understand my reasons for this?”
“Yes James I do. I will mourn your absence but I accept it as the wisest
course.”
He gave me a last peck — and then a deep kiss that went on and on and resulted in
him making love to me again and then he was up, dressed in a flash and, with a last smile
and wave, was gone from me.
I lay there for a few minutes while I collected my thoughts and then rose, smoothed
down the bed (with the blood stain in its middle) and slipped downstairs to the drawing
room, where I could hear sounds of people.
“Ah, Katrina, come in, come in,” said my Master. It was the drinks hour before
dinner and the peer, his family and their guests were standing or sitting around the room
sipping their drinks before being summoned to the dining room. If you have read the first
part of my account, you will know I knew that room intimately for I had been the
centrepiece of the table there on one occasion. I wondered now if that would be the case
this time as well.
It wasn’t. In fact, I was now to be my Master’s faithful puppy. He placed a
leather collar around my neck, attached a leash to it and ordered me down on to all fours
and as his puppy I now followed him around the drawing room as he mingled with his guests.
I felt Penny’s eyes on me a lot of the time and wondered at her implications to me a long
time ago that she had known what was going on. Had she just been a silent observer of her
father’s enslavement of girls (and boys) or had she too, at one time, been a slavegirl
herself?
You may find it hard to understand that I could so easily move from being James’
lover to a naked slavegirl to a puppy dog? It is all in the psyche of a slave. This is
why I had to serve an apprenticeship; to learn the ways of a slave. To become all and
anything my Master desired of me. This is why it was so necessary that Sir Guy test me in
so many ways. If I had been found wanting, he would have rejected me out of hand, for to
be a slave requires a very special kind of mentality. I had it — but he had to be sure I
did or it could have damaged me psychologically and our Masters and Mistresses are very,
very careful to ensure we get as much from our slavery as they do from owning us.
Anyway, that evening, after we had all trooped into the dining room, me capering on
all fours like a real puppy-dog, I squatted down beside my Master’s place at the table,
feet on the floor, knees spread wide and hands down on the floor between my feet, in as
close an approximation of a dog’s sitting position as possible and accepted morsels from
his hand from time to time. Otherwise, he ignored me — as was right and proper. After
dinner, Rory took me back to the stables and I ate a belated dinner, a proper meal that
had been pureed into a mush, out of a dog bowl at the front of my stall, and then settled
into the straw for the night, well pleased with my first day as a permanent slave and even
more pleased to find that my lover was not Sir Guy’s servant and that in time, when I had
worked out the slavery bent in my mind, that we would be married. In the meantime, I could
now look forward to an as yet undetermined period as a real slavegirl, permanently naked
now, and available for use in whatever capacity Lord Grey, as I now had to think of Sir
Guy as, decided for me.
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