I heard chains jangling across the floor before I saw her. I had started

work on her blinders when she crawled into the studio. I sat with my

leather working tools and the pieces we had bought earlier laid out on

the desk in front of me. She stopped just inside the room and dropped

down, face to the floor. Her hair, still wet from her shower, trailed on

the floor around her head. "How may I serve you, Master?" she asked. She

wore her standard uniform: collar and wrist and ankle cuffs with

connecting chains. As she knelt, head down and fanny in the air, I saw

that little piece of black leather still protruding from her asshole.

Come over here. Kneel up," I said, gesturing to a point in the floor

near the desk. She knelt beside me, sitting on her heels with knees

spread wide, back straight and eyes cast slightly down. I casually

fondled her breasts with one handle. My fingers stroked her tits and

gently tweaked a nipple. "The plug's still in your ass," I said. "It's

in my ass again, Master."

"Yes?" "I took it out to shower, Master, but since you hadn't removed it

yourself, I washed it and put it back in." "I see."

"It stays in just fine by itself, Master." "I'll remember that, slut.

Very good. You're getting used to thinking like a slave." "Thank you,

Master." She smiled. I think she even blushed a bit.

I picked up a piece of stiff cardboard that I had cut to shape minutes

before. I was about eight inches long and four inches high, with a

straight top edge and curved bottom. I turned to her and held the top

corners to her temples. "What do you see?" I asked. "A lot of cardboard,

Master."

"No sarcasm, slut. And . . . ?" "And . . . well, I see my thighs, a

little carpet between them. I see a bit of my pussy, my belly, my tits.

That's about it, Master." I pulled the cardboard away from her face.

"Stand." She struggled to her feet with a clinking of chains. I held the

cardboard to her face again. "Now what do you see?" "Pretty much the

same as before, Master," she responded. "Cardboard. My body, all the way

down. Carpet, an arc about two feet deep and four, maybe five feet wide.

And part of the base of your chair. That's it. I could see more if I

leaned my head back, Master." "Good. Good," I said, again dropping the

cardboard from her face. "That'll do very well." I picked up a tape

measure from the desk top. "One more thing to check." I stood and

wrapped the tape across her forehead and around her head. "Twenty-one

inches. The strap doesn't need to be quite as long as I thought." I sat

back down and turned to the work on the desk. "You can go now. I'll call

if I need you." "Yes, Master." She dropped to her knees. "Master?" she

asked. "Yes, slut."

"Master, I think I know what you're making . . . ,"she hesitated,

dropped her head. "Yes?"

"I think I know what you're making and I don't think I like it." "That's

awfully bold, slut. Do you want tonight's punishment extended to three

hours?" "Nooooo, Master. Please. I don't even know what you're going to

do to me." "Slut?"

"Yes, Master. Of course. Make my punishment last for as long as you

wish, Master." "Face down, slut."

She dropped to the carpet, face down, hands on the floor at each side of

her head. "I think two and a half hours will be adequate, but don't try

my patience. Now, slut. What do you think I'm making?" "Blinders,

Master," she said to the carpet. "Blinders?

"Yes, Master. Blinders, like for a race horse." "You're right, slut. I'm

making blinders for you. Just like for a horse." "Yes, Master. It

frightens me. I'll be able see enough to walk, won't I?" "Yes, maybe

even run, slut." "But I won't be able to see what's around me. That

frightens me, Master." "You'll have to trust me, slut." "Yes, Master. I

trust you, Master." "Good. Now go. Relax. Take a nap. Read a book. Watch

TV. I'll call you when it's time to get ready to go to dinner." "Thank

you, Master." The little black leather loop wagged between her ass

cheeks like a boxer puppy's tail as she crawled from the room. I

carefully cut the stiff leather scrap to match the piece of cardboard I

had used as a model. Then, I cut the strap to length, tapered and

punched one end and attached the buckle to the other. Finally, I

connected the leather piece to the new strap with a row of grommets

across the top. My slave's blinders were ready. That done, I took an old

pair of wraparound sunglasses from the desk drawer and carefully painted

the inside of the lenses flat black.

A few minutes before six, I walked into the living room. She was asleep,

curled up on a pile of pillows in the floor, a paperback closed beside

her head. I cleared my throat. "What . . . huh?" she slowly opened her

eyes.

"Oh, Master. Yes. Is it dinner time already?" She stretched languidly as

she awoke, first with legs straight out, chained ankles together and

toes pointed, then hands and arms straight over her head." "Yes, slut.

Time to get ready. Are you forgetting something?" She looked at me, then

looked around her, puzzled. Then she said, "Oh.Master, I'm sorry,

Master. Please forgive me," as she hurriedly rolled up onto her knees

and bowed face down to the floor. "Much better. You may stand."

"Thank you, Master." She struggled to her feet. She stood before me,

naked and beautiful. She placed her feet apart, chain taut between her

ankles. Muscular, tanned legs led upward to the bare pale triangle of

her pussy, lips pink and barely parted. A chromed chain dangled across

her slit, as she held her cuffed hands at her waist, slightly apart,

fulfilling instructions not to cover her pubis. Her hips, perhaps a bit

more ample than ideal, gave way to a slender waist and firm, round

breasts. Straight black hair cascaded around her shoulders, ending just

above her erect pink nipples. She smiled, looked straight at me with

dark brown eyes, then quickly looked down. "Let's get you out of your

uniform," I said, stepping up to her. "Give me your hands." Taking her

outstretched wrists, I quickly unbuckled her cuffs. I dropped the cuffs

and their connecting chain on the sofa. "Turn. And lift your hair." She

pivoted and raised her hair away from her neck with both hands, arms

bent back over her head. I released her collar and dropped it beside the

wrist cuffs. "You can take care of your ankles," I said. I continued as

she crouched down to remove her ankle cuffs. "We're going to Emilio's.

You'll wear your corset and your new shoes." She tossed the ankle cuffs

onto the sofa and stood upright. "I'll let you decide the rest." "Thank

you, Master. I think I know just the thing." "Your shoes are on the

table by the door. Put them on and bring me the corset." I sat down on

the sofa. She took the pumps from their box and sat on the edge of the

coffee table to put them on. Facing directly toward me, she lifted,

spread and crossed her left leg. She slipped on the shoe, buckled the

strap across her instep, then the ankle strap. She slipped her foot to

the floor and repeated the process with the other. She made a show of

it, making sure to stretch her legs wider than needed and show me her

shaved and open cunt with each motion. She rose to her feet, teetered

for an instant on the ridiculous spike heels, then stepped over to

retrieve the corset from the floor. She turned directly away from me.

Placing her feet shoulder width apart, she bent over at the waist to

pick up the corset, giving me a magnificent display of her plugged ass.

"Very nice, slut," I commented. "Thank you, Master." Beginning to get

the feel of the heels, she walked over and handed me the black satin

corset. "Kneel here," I said, pointing to the floor at my feet. "Face

away from me." "Yes, Master," she responded as she complied. I wrapped

the corset loosely around her torso, waiting for her to adjust her

breasts and pull the half cups up under them. The cups stopped short,

leaving her nipples and areolae exposed. It was a modern corset, with

hooks and elastic, not laces and stays. It would serve quite well,

though, to contain and restrain my slave. In back, there were a close

row of hooks and four matching rows of loops, allowing the corset to be

adjusted. I pulled the top hook across to the farthest loop and slipped

it through. As I went down the row, pulling and looping, her kneeling

posture, already straight, became more and more erect. The pattern of

her breathing changed subtly, grew slightly more shallow. Her shoulders

and bottom writhed slowly, twisting her body into the confining fabric.

"Done," I said, slipping the last hook into place. "Up now. Let me see

you." "Yes, Master." She pushed herself carefully to her feet, steadying

herself against the sofa. She strode slowly away from me across the

room, her bare bottom swaying seductively, made even more prominent by

her restricted waist. In back, the corset ended just at the top of her

hips. A tiny piece of black leather peeked between her ass cheeks. She

turned and started back toward me. "Stop there," I commanded after a

couple steps. She spread her feet slightly apart to help her balance.

The front view was magnificent. The corset's wired cups forced her ample

tits up and together, creating a valley of cleavage that looked

wonderfully fuckable. The nipples were fully erect above the cups. Her

already slim waist was reduced to about twenty-three inches. The

exaggeration of her feminine shape further emphasized her tits above and

her bare, pale pussy below, glowing against the shiny black satin.

Four garters dangled from the lower edge of the corset. "Excellent," I

commented. "Follow me. I'm going to clean up while you get dressed." I

led her into the bathroom. Her heels clicked harshly on the hard tile

floor. "You may undress me," I said, turning back to her. She slowly

unbuttoned my shirt, then pushed it back off my shoulders. She pressed

her uplifted tits hard against me and leaned down to trail her lips and

tongue across my chest. She knelt down and pulled the shirt sleeves off

my arms, dropping it in the floor behind her. She untied my shoes, then

lifting each foot, pulled off my shoes and socks. She washed my feet

with her tongue, starting near each ankle. She worked her way down in

wide, wet licks and finally, carefully sucked each toe. I braced myself

against the sink to remain standing. She leaned up and lightly kissed

the fly of my jeans. Quickly, she unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned and

unzipped my fly and pulled my jeans and shorts down to my ankles. Again

she lifted each foot, pulling my pants free to join the pile with my

shirt and shoes. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she turned her head

to the side and gently licked my balls. She took each in her mouth in

turn, lightly sucking and rolling. She ran her tongue straight up the

length of my cock and off the end. She paused for a moment, then plunged

her open mouth straight down onto my hard member. She pushed me into her

throat past her gagging point, then backed off leaving just the tip in

her lips. Again she plunged her mouth down. And again. On the next up

stroke, I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back sharply. "That's

enough for now." "But Master, you don't like my mouth?" "I love your

mouth, slut. But I've got another idea. Get up." She struggled to her

feet with my help, almost falling once as her heels slipped on the slick

tile floor. "Turn around and lean over the sink. Spread your legs."

"Yes, Master." She positioned herself as I had directed. I reached

between her ass cheeks and hooked a finger through the loop on her ass

plug. Bracing the other hand against the rim of the sink, I quickly

pulled the plug out and dropped it in the sink. "Ooowww. Master!" I

found her anus with the head of my cock, then drove it in to replace the

rubber plug. She grabbed the towel bars on each side of the mirror,

leaned far forward and pressed her face against the glass. "No. Master.

Pleeasse," she pleaded. "What's that, slut?" I pulled almost fully out,

then thrust back into her ass. Her bare pussy thumped against the cold

porcelain sink rim. "Oh! Master!" "What, slut?" Thump. "Oh! Master!"

"What?" Thump. "Oh! Master! Yes!" "What?" Thump. "Yes, Master! Yes!"

Thump. "Yes, Master!" Thump. "Please, Master!" Thump. "What, slut?"

Thump. "Please, Master!" Thump. "Please fuck my ass!" Thump. "Please,

Master!" Thump. "Please, Master!" Thump. "Please, Master!" Thump.

"Please fuck my ass!" Thump. "Fuck my ass, Master!" Thump. "Please fuck

my ass!" Thump. I grabbed her tits in both hands, squeezed her nipples

between my fingertips and pulled her back hard against my chest. She

arched her spine and threw her head back over my shoulder. I came deep

inside her bowels. "Oh. Master. Oh!" She relaxed forward, drooped her

head above the faucet. I released her nipples and eased my rapidly

softening cock from her oozing asshole. She wiggled her hips from side

to side, feeling her ass finally free and empty. "I think you enjoyed

that almost as much as I did," I said.

She twisted around to look me in the face. "Yes, Master. I probably

did." A lopsided grin flashed across her face before she turned her head

down and away. She remained leaning across the sink. I stepped back

against the wall and slapped her fanny sharply. "Ow." "Clean up in

here," I ordered. "Then get dressed." I turned and opened the taps for

my shower. She pulled out a length of toilet paper to wipe her dripping

ass. "And lay out my tan suit and a white shirt," I continued as I

stepped in to the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed.

I walked naked into the bedroom after my shower, brushing my hair with a

towel. She was fully clothed, but dropped to her knees, face to the

floor as I entered the room. "Up," I said and sat on the edge of the bed.

She rose to her feet, steadying herself on the bed's edge. She wore an

sleeveless, iridescent blue dress of a vaguely oriental design. The

fabric shined and clung to her curves. The dress would have probably

been too tight without the corset. I guessed that she had bought it

especially to wear with the corset. It was tight and straight around her

legs, extending to mid-calf, but with slits halfway up her thighs on

both sides. The neckline was high with a straight, tight collar that

buttoned at her throat.

She added black stockings to the pumps, and pulled her hair back in a

ponytail. That was it; she wore no jewelry. The effect was stunning.

"Wow," was all I said. "I take it you approve, Master?"

"Wholeheartedly," I agreed. "Now help me get dressed." "Master?" "You

heard me. Help me get dressed." I wanted to push her totally into her

role as slave. She was to serve me, not only sexually, but at all times

and in every way. "Yes, Master. Of course." She knelt and held my

undershorts while I stepped into them, then pulled them up and adjusted

them. She helped me into my pants and buttoned my shirt. As I sat on the

bed, she, kneeling again, pulled on my socks and tied my shoes. I tied

my own tie and slipped into my suit jacket while she knelt beside me.

"One more thing before we go." I said and, with a quiet clink of chain,

pulled a small object from the drawer in my bedside table. "Pull your

dress up around your hips and lie back on the bed." "Okay, Master." She

looked at me, puzzled, and obviously trying to figure out what I held in

my hand. She struggled with the dress, but it was tight enough that she

had trouble pulling it up more that a few inches at the hips. Finally,

she threw herself back on the bed in frustration and pulled up the front

flap of the dress between its two slits. "I'm sorry, Master. This is the

best I can do." The top of her pussy slit was barely below the folded

edge of the dress. "I think that'll do," I said. "Spread your legs a

little." She slid her knees about eight inches apart. I dropped the set

of clamps that I'd bought the day before on the bed between her legs. I

slipped a finger gently between her bare cunt lips and slid it up across

her clit. The finger came away wet. "A bit damp down there," I said.

"Slavery makes me wet," she replied, flatly.

I spread her lower lips apart with the fingers of one hand, exposing her

clit and the inner lips. I tweaked her clit lightly between thumb and

forefinger. "Ooooo." She squirmed her hips.

I pulled up one of the soft inner lips and rolled it in my fingers until

it swelled slightly. Holding firmly, picked up one of the clamps and

released it on her captured cunt lip. "Ow." She jerked just a little.

"Master!" I had set the screw adjustment on the clamp to apply minimum

pressure, but now backed the screw out on its threads until I was sure

the clamp wouldn't slide off. I grasped the other inner lip and secured

it like the first. A short chromed steel chain dangled to the bed from

the two little plastic-coated alligator clips. "Just something to remind

you what you are," I said. "You can get up now." She rose and pulled her

dress back down around her legs. "Master, it hurts."

"Yes?" "But just a little, Master. And the chain is cold." "Slave?" "I'm

sure I'll get used to it, Master." She walked to the door and back. "The

chain sways . . . and pulls just a bit when I walk. You know, I like it

almost as much as I don't like it." She stopped and bowed her head.

"Thank you, Master." "You're welcome, slut. Shall we go?"

"Of course, Master. I'm ready."