That weekend passed without Marcus commenting at all about the piercings. At first she figured he had to wait until they fully healed, but she soon found he would not hesitate to use them, at least in minimal fashion, right away. As she sat on her knees beside him at the dinner table that Sunday night, it was all she could do not to stare at them as she kept her head bowed in the proper fashion. Her face was still streaked with tears from the torture she had experienced over the weekend, all in the name of training. Now, though still in pain, the quiet moment seemed like a vacation. A slight motion of her head made the bell attached to her nose ring jingle slightly. The bells still hanging from her nipples and clit joined in the chorus, though she fought to remain motionless. She had been warned about making noise with her bells, and after the last two days, she was truly fearful of the consequences Marcus' punishment might bring.

Immediately upon her return home that Friday, Marcus had fitted a large ring through her new nose grommet, allowing it to dangle over her top lip. Charlotte began to cry as she felt him affix the seamless ring into place. The addition of this single piece of jewelry proved to be the most humiliating. As the metal touched her face, she imagined she had become simply an animal, a cow or worse. Attaching short pieces of chain to her nipple and clit rings, he had fit small bells to their ends. Now, as Charlotte was helped to her feet, she rang with each step. Charlotte dropped her head in shame as Marcus linked a chain leash to her nose ring and, with a tug, pulled her into the adjoining room.

Charlotte followed dutifully, but found herself glancing to the side to see her reflection in a hall mirror. She found a familiar girl, but being led in a most humiliating fashion by a new nose ring. The gleam of the metal seemed to tease her, as did the jingle of the bells. Her still tender nipple rings ached as the weight of the bells tugged on them, as did her clit.

Reaching the other room, Marcus pushed a large ball gag into her mouth, strapping it on behind her. This she had grown accustomed, though the device sometimes changed. Some days it would be a blow up gag, or a spreader, or even a long dildo. As she stood waiting for the rest of her bondage, she watched him pull new boxes from the floor. Rather than the typical leather cuffs, he unboxed a new set of stainless steel cuffs. As she stood before him, naked, she watched as he fit the wide metal collar around her neck. Unlike her 2 inch collar before, this one measured 4 1/2 inches wide. On Charlotte's small frame it acted much like a posture collar, holding her head in an upright position. She could feel the thin layer of rubber padding Marcus had mounted on the inside of the metal, softening it slightly. As he closed it, she could tell it was fit perfectly for her, almost too perfectly. Pressing the ends together on the side, rather than the back, she could feel the padding compress against her throat, pressing firmly, until the ends met. Marcus slipped a thin pin into the seam, then used a small wrench to screw it firmly in place. Once finished, Charlotte could see no seams. The collar was one complete band, fit snuggly to her neck, marred only by the heavy ring that dangled from the front. Unlike the other collars, which felt snug but somehow temporary, the feel of this steel on her neck made her feel even more controlled. As she considered this feeling, Marcus removed four wide bands from the box and moved behind her. She kept her head bowed as best she could, but could feel him attaching snug cuffs just below her elbows. As expected, they fit perfectly. She could feel him pulling her elbows together, as was so common with her bondage, but she could tell this one would be different. Once he pushed her elbows together, and the new cuffs touched, she heard a click. His hands released but her elbows stayed in contact. Marcus then fit the second set of cuffs around her upper arms, halfway between her shoulder and elbow. After some further fumbling, he reached around her for a small tool and moved back behind her. She could feel him working, then a clicking sound and, to her surprise, her elbows were pulled even closer together. Another moment of fumbling, then more clicking. With a shock, Charlotte realized he was slowly pulling her upper arms closer and closer together. After 6 weeks of elbows touching through the night, she had grown accustomed to the bondage. Now, as he wrenched her upper arms even farther back, a more severe ache began in her shoulders. Sensing her fear, Marcus turned her so her back faced a wall mirror, then repositioned another mirror so she could watch. Small cables had been fed in x fashion from an upper arm cuff, down to the opposite elbow cuff, then back to the other upper arm cuff, and so forth. The result was a type of winch system that, as Marcus turned the center fitting, pulled the cable tighter, thus reducing the amount of space between her upper arms. As he pulled it close, she watched her shoulders pull back farther until her muscles banded from the stress. She moaned in pain, hoping he would stop. Instead, Marcus continued until her arms met at least 3 inches above her elbows. The pain was unbearable and tears coursed down her cheeks. Despite her pain, Marcus continued, folding her upper arms as close as her joints would allow before dislocating. Charlotte could barely stand from the pain as Marcus fit her hands in padded rubber gloves, laced her fingers into a ball, her thumb buried under them, then fit another latex covering over her hands. Not only could she not move her hands, she couldn't feel her fingers touch each other. Cuffs attached to her wrists and joined with a similar click, held her useless lower arms together.

Marcus pulled Charlotte over to the padded seat, and pushed her back on it. Though her shoulders still screamed, she was beginning to work through the pain. She knew she would gain no relief from Marcus unless her circulation became a problem, and the past weeks had proven she had excellent circulation. Pulling a new box from under the seat, Marcus unpacked two rubber objects and a selection of small steel hoops. Lifting her bare feet up, he began to fit the hoops around each toe, like small, wide cuffs. After some experimentation, he fit each toe with a cuff that fit snuggly, then began to slip the strange rubber devices over her feet. She couldn't believe these were considered shoes! Marcus' voice cut through the thick silence that had surrounded them.

"I know how much you like shoes, so I had these made special for you." His smile was anything but warm. "They're called ballet shoes," he said as he pushed them onto her feet. Like a sharp V, the shoe was designed to force Charlotte up on the very end of her toes. She now could see the purpose for the small metal bands. If anything, they would prevent her toes from breaking under the severe stress of being walked upon. But surely Marcus didn't intend for her to walk like this, Charlotte thought. Even the 10 inch needle thin spike of a heel couldn't support her weight with her foot forced into a severe en pointe. As she pondered this new torment, Marcus slipped the shoe into place. The hard rubber exterior was padded slightly inside, but as her toes pushed into the end of the shoe, she could tell the padding wouldn't stop the pain of her feet being crushed into the point. Once in position, Marcus fit the rubber straps through loops and began to tighten them down. He alternated with the back strap, which extended around her heel and back to the shoe. The result of pulling on this strap was to force her foot even deeper into the shoe, until her toes began to bend and shape into an arrow. After struggling for ten minutes, Marcus seemed satisfied. Charlotte was sure she would never be able to walk in these torturous devices. Her calf had already begun to cramp from the extended position of her foot. After another ten minutes, the other shoe was in place. Marcus attached similar, seamless cuffs to her ankles, joined by a short four inches of chain, then stood in front of her. His smile didn't warm her heart.

"Stand up," he ordered. Charlotte looked up at him, pleading for mercy, but Marcus would not wait. Grabbing her nose ring with his finger, he yanked her upright with amazing strength, until her entire weight rested on her toes. She cried out in pain, but Marcus held her, moving behind her to let her see into the mirror. The pencil thin heels were her only support as she tried to balance her weight between toe and heel. Through tears, Charlotte saw an unfamiliar woman. Gone was the timid and innocent Charlotte of a month and a half ago; the button nose and youthful expression. Standing in front of her she saw a naked woman, adorned with a ring through her bare clit, and more through her nipples and nose. She was statuesque, her feet forced en point by harsh rubber ballet shoes, her long, dark hair cascading around a wide, steel collar around her neck, falling upon her breasts. She appeared to have no arms, but her shoulders gave away the stress they were under. Despite the fear she felt of being controlled as effectively as she was, she found herself aroused as well. She watched Marcus smile as he too enjoyed the sight, then attach a leash to her nose ring and pull her out of the room. Charlotte took careful steps, both due to the short chain between her ankles as well as the dark pain growing in her feet.

That night, after Marcus made love to her, he pulled her back on her aching toes, walking her to the end of the bed. Charlotte began lowering to the floor, expecting to be chained once again on the hardwood. Instead, Marcus reached above her and, with a sharp pull, lowered a chain from the ceiling. Charlotte could only watch as he clipped the end to her nose ring, then moved to the wall and, with the aid of an electric winch hidden somewhere nearby, raised the chain. He lifted it enough to help support her, preventing her from falling over, but not enough to provide any relief to her toes. Charlotte couldn't imagine standing like this all night. Already, she was having trouble maintaining balance, and despite the metal grommet that strengthened her septum, she felt searing pain through her nose when her balance slipped and she pulled on the chain. Charlotte tried to beg, but the large ball gag in her mouth stifled any sound. Marcus simply admired her for a moment, then crouched down at her feet. She could feel him fumbling with her shoes and, after a moment, he stood and showed her two thin metal rods. With a smile, he watched her for a moment. As her balance on her toes began to slip, she instinctively rocked back to her heels. But now she found nothing. Charlotte began to cry as she realized he had unscrewed her heels, leaving her only her toes for support. She stumbled and fought to remain vertical, knowing the pain in her nose would provide ample encouragement. Each step brought about a ring from the bells still dangling from her piercings. There seemed to be no way to avoid making sound as she struggled to stand on her tortured toes.

"I'm going to sleep now. I want you to stand here quietly and not move. If you wake me with the bells, I'll find something worse to punish you with." With that, Marcus climbed into bed and shut off the light, as Charlotte began a long night of pain.

As Sunday morning came, Charlotte was exhausted. Without the ability to rest, she had been forced to endure constant pain as her toes slowly formed to fit the sharp point of her new shoes. Her face was stained with tears, but she had long since cried herself out. Her calves had began burning early in the night, both from the pain of being extended by the horrible shoes, but also by the rigid stance she had been forced to maintain to avoid any sound of her bells. Once during the night, after what seemed like hours of struggle, she had accidentally nodded off, slumping to the end of the chain connected to her nose ring. The sudden pain in her nose jerked her awake as she went rigid again. The bells connected to her clit and nipple rings sounded out loudly, and a moan erupted from Charlotte's throat as she saw Marcus rise in anger.

"One simple order, and you couldn't obey," he said. He slipped out of bed and moved behind her. For a moment, Charlotte lost track of him, until a whistling sound gave her a seconds warning. A cane fell down hard against the back of her thigh. Charlotte screamed behind her gag, tears springing from her eyes as Marcus began a harsh caning. Endless strokes landed on her ass, thighs and calves, until they burned with white-hot pain. It was all Charlotte could do to stay conscious. She danced on her toes, the pain from them now outmatched by the harsh welts that rose across her legs. Finally, Marcus finished, dropping the cane in front of her as he climbed back into bed. He didn't need to warn her again. Charlotte endured the pain in her toes to avoid any further torture. Only the soft sounds of her whimpering disturbed the silence in the bedroom.

Now, hours later, the cramping felt like nails being driven through her legs. She was desperate to escape this newest torment, but could only wait and pray that Marcus would wake soon and release her. But as the sun rose and her master awoke, he seemed pleased to see her still standing, as if she had an option. Rising, he grabbed his robe and slipped it on, reaching out to caress her body. She cried out as his fingers traced lines over the welts now lacing her ass and legs. Then, as Charlotte awaited release, he left the room. A moan erupted from her throat and echoed down the hall after him.

By midday, Charlotte thought she would soon faint from the combination of pains, as well as the lack of sleep. She bordered on hysterics, but with no way of releasing her panic, she could feel her will breaking. Soon, she knew, she would be forever changed into a willing slave, just as she new Marcus hoped for. He reappeared then, smiling and nibbling on a pear. She moaned as his hands gasped her nipple rods and twisted, the bell connected to the ring behind it sounding out merrily as he let go.

"I bet you're hungry," he said. "And you probably have to go the bathroom." Charlotte tried to nod, but found it difficult and painful. He took another bite from his pear and disappeared again.

Charlotte watched as the grey sludge slowly oozed from the bag overhead into her feeding tube. She was happy that she didn't have to taste it, but humiliated by her lack of participation in any bodily functions. Upon his return, Marcus had carefully slipped a large butt plug up Charlotte's ass, then inflated it to hold it in place. What she couldn't see were the two large enema bags that soon began filling her up with warm liquid. As she squinted her eyes with embarrassment, and soon pain, she sensed Marcus in front of her. A sharp pain told her he was fitting her with a catheter. Soon, she could feel her bladder emptying despite her resistance. Finally, Marcus had removed her gag, and clipped a small chain to the grommet in her tongue, then pulled hard until her tongue was forced far from her mouth. The chain reached down to her crotch. As he released the chain, Charlotte instinctively pulled her tongue back in, only to find it connected to her clit ring. The pain was excruciating, and she was forced to hold her tongue out far. With a nonchalant attitude, Marcus slowly began feeding a large plastic tube into Charlotte's mouth. As it reached the back of her throat, she began to choke.

"Swallow," Marcus ordered. "And keep swallowing." The tube was pushed further and further down her throat, until she could tell it had reached her stomach. Hanging a bag above her head, he attached the tube to the bottom of it, then released the valve.

Now, the bag nearly empty, Charlotte felt humiliated. She had hoped with her need to eat and go to the bathroom, that she might be allowed even a moment of relief. She realized that Marcus had found a way to remove even those basic forms of humanity. A new fear rose in her heart as she began to understand how little of her old self she would be allowed to keep. She had imagined being a slave more a romantic idea that she learned from movies. Now, as she found she no longer controlled her own life, she knew that being Marcus' slave would be far different than she could imagine.

Charlotte struggled to maintain her balance as she fought to keep up with the rapid pace of the machine. After her feeding, Marcus had decided she needed exercise, and attached her to the large treadmill he had adapted for her. A series of chains connected her piercings to the ramp, while rubberized straps stretched from the ceiling to her collar and arm cuffs. She felt him fumble with her hair, lacing it into a ponytail, then pull her head back harshly. As he released her head, she found that her hair had been tied off, forcing her to bend her neck back harshly and stare at the ceiling. A large ball gag was stuffed into her mouth. She could see the rubber straps connected over her head, and the springy quality of the material as she tried to flex her knees. They held her in the middle of the track, still balancing precariously on her toes. New tears had erupted from her as she realized what she was required to do. The chains connected to each of her rings would ensure she kept in the center, and did not slump. The rubber straps would prevent her from falling, without providing much relief from her tortured feet. As he reached to the panel and activated a session, Charlotte whimpered.

"I think four hours should be a good start," he said, keying in the time. As he hit the start button, the track began to roll, and Charlotte stumbled forward. Quickly she could tell the combination of her arms in bondage, the position of her head and the ballet shoes would make walking difficult and painful. Despite this, within minutes, she found a pace that matched the machine, and once again she focused on the pain of her feet. She cried openly, tears rolling off her cheeks and down her breasts, onto the tread like a soft rain. But even Marcus ignored them, choosing to enjoy her exercise for a moment before settling into a chair with a book. A layer of sweat soon joined the tears on her body.

Ten minutes into her exercise, the treadmill suddenly began to speed up, and the ramp inclined, creating the feeling that Charlotte was running up a hill. She cried out behind the gag and fought to keep up. A sharp tug on her clit ring told her she was falling behind. Her feet screamed in pain as she began to run, but soon she was keeping up. Her breath came raggedly through her nose, but the addition of her breathing tubes allowed her plenty of breath despite her struggle.

As she ran in her toe shoes, each step brought a new scream from her throat. Her toes seemed to have jammed into a needle point now. She was certain they had broken from the force of her body on them. Sweat poured down her body and into her eyes, puddling in her sockets as she tried to shrug the liquid off. She was certain she would faint soon, and began to brace herself for the inevitable. The pain had now coursed through her body, numbing her to most of her tortures. But just as she was certain she would no longer be able to move, the treadmill slowed and leveled out, returning to a walk. The change was heaven to Charlotte as she caught her breath and tried to enjoy the lessened pressure on her feet. Compared to the running, she felt she could go on like this forever. But as she relaxed, she sensed a change and just as quickly, the treadmill sped up even faster, increasing the angle as she wailed and tried to keep up, new tears filling her eyes.

End of Part 3