Author's Note: I love feedback! Any spelling/grammatical errors? What do you/don't you like? And, most importantly, what would you like to see Sarah train Elyse for? Let me know in the comments below!


Chapter 1

If someone had told her two weeks ago that she'd sign her away six months of her life for some weird BDSM ashram-type situation, Elyse d'Amour would have laughed in their face, slapped her knee, told them they were delusional, then ask them to leave so she could finish whatever episode of reality television she was currently watching. 

But Elyse was a very particular sort, the kind of woman who threw herself into a task completely. Finding herself so suddenly with nothing to throw herself into had been nothing if not a shock to her system. 

Flipping her glossy brown hair over her bare, tanned shoulder, she bent her head low to the table and blew gently on the blue ink, an action that, to the woman in question, somehow seemed to solidify in her mind the decision to give up her freedom. Six months, she had specified - no more, no less. 

So what had changed in those two weeks? Well, a couple of things. Her boyfriend of six years had traded her in for a younger, taller, blonder, more toned model. Not that Elyse was very old herself at a twenty six but, as she often told her best friend, it was a very old twenty six. She hardly knew that fresh-faced, bubbly twenty year old she had once been. 

The other significant event had seen her career flushed down the toilet. Oh, she was overdramatising it a little, and truthfully, it wasn't all bad, but she had loved her job and her team in her big advertising agency, and it had hurt to see it made redundant. 

And thus, at her very old twenty six, Elyse had found herself jobless, though not penniless, thanks to a large redundancy package, and romantic attachment... Less. 

She had jumped at the chance for a fresh start. 

Bringing herself back to the present, she felt her cheeks colour. She had done it. Thrown off the heavy weight of societal expectation and, in a short time, quite literally, felt exposed and vulnerable in the very best of ways. She was being her honest, true self. It felt good.

The woman before her, with warm chocolate eyes that seemed to see to the depths of Elyse's very soul, sat down in the chair opposite her. With slow, almost feline movements, she reached across the desk and gathered the paperwork from Elyse to herself. Glancing up at Elyse from under her long, heavy lashes, her pink glossy lips stretched into what Elyse would later think of as quite a cruel looking smile. 

"Elyse is no longer your name. From here on out, you have no name, in the way that we do not name lamps or tables. You are simply an object, a collection of holes to fill. And fill them up we will. We will refer to you in whatever term we feel is appropriate in the moment. At this moment, for example, I feel it is appropriate for you to simply be referred to as slavegirl, but I also think the word 'cunt' is quite relevant. So, cunt, now that I have your written contract, I want you to verbalise what you have just signed."

Her voice had such a seductive quality that Elyse very nearly missed her first instruction as a trainee slavegirl. Nearly. 

"I've--"

"No," interjected the woman. "There will be no more referring to yourself as a person. You are an object, a piece of property. You have no gender. You have no will. At this point, you barely have agency. Try again, slut."

Elyse blushed. She - it? - didn't expect this to be so full on so quickly. 

"Um... This slave has just signed on for six months slave training."

The woman smiled, her light brown skin flawless in the dappled afternoon light flowing in from the window. 

"Close. In time, you'll learn the eloquence required of you."

Thus appeased, the woman - whom Elyse was starting to realise was very likely one of her new trainers - stood up from the opposite side of the desk to walk over to where Elyse was sitting. 

Unsure of what to do with herself, and now very aware of the fact that she didn't know what to do with her hands, Elyse simply turned her head and stared up at the woman. 

It was a very odd thing, Elyse thought, to have signed a contract as she had and not know her mistress' name. For that's surely what she was now - her mistress. 

"Take off your clothes," Mistress commanded.

Elyse hesitated, just a second and no more, but it was enough for Mistress' eyes to flash a scalding brown fire. 

Grabbing Elyse's chin, the Domme ground out, "Lesson one: always obey. Hesitation counts as disobedience. It's indolence, hedonism. I will tolerate neither. Now, take off your clothes."

Elyse scrambled to obey, fumbling with the buttons on the front of her dress, but, within a minute, sat naked before the woman on the chair. 

In for a penny, she thought to herself. 

As Sarah watched Elyse struggle with nerves, she inwardly smiled. Already she could see that this one was going to be fun. 

At five feet, six inches, Sarah was a woman used to having her own way. Her size intimidated. Every inch of her body was toned from hours - over yesrs and years - of daily swim practise. Discipline and routine was something she knew well, and it was something she looked forward to bestowing upon Elyse. 

And that's exactly what it was: a gift. Something to confer upon a worthy subject. Sarah's years of experience in both dominating and domineering all her romantic partners had lead her to a paid position in a BDSM training school that only the most needy of subjects could find. It was part of the screening process: Make it hard to find to weed out the weak. 

And so, dragging her chair across the floor to sit directly opposite her newest pet, Sarah pulled herself up regally and stared. 

The girl had said she'd had no experience in BDSM beyond fluffy handcuffs and deep throat. Again, she inwardly smiled. 

That wasn't BDSM. 

Elyse sat naked before her, looking to curl into herself, to shield herself from what Sarah knew were very probing eyes. They were alone, and it was obvious Elyse had never felt so exposed or vulnerable. 

After a few minutes inspecting her pet from afar, Sarah finally spoke up.

"I am going to give you some rules. You will memorise them and obey. I will go easy on you for the next 24 hours, because you've taken a big step today. But mercy will end after that. I expect nothing short of perfection, and I detest repeating myself, so listen closely. 

"As I said, you will obey, and you will not hesitate to do so. For the next month, we will practise something called high protocol. This is a very formal form of BDSM, and one which, when practiced correctly, can be something of an art. 

"You will not look any of your superiors in the eye. You will begin every single phrase you utter with 'Master' or 'Mistress,' and end it with 'Sir' or 'Ma'am.' You will not speak unless spoken to - unless you are begging for mercy or orgasm. 

"You will not refer to yourself as a human any longer. You are merely a collection of holes we will fill. As such, you will remain open and accessible to us at all times - your legs will always be open, as will your mouth. If you cannot manage this on your own, we will manage this for you. Your body is no longer your own, so orgasm without prior permission is forbidden. 

"Finally, and perhaps most obviously, any and all disobedience will be punished at the discretion of your superior. Do you understand?"

Elyse, at this point, had recognised her chance to start off on the right foot with this woman, and so had opened her mouth and spread her legs. She had shaved her pussy bare for the first time that morning, and her freshly denuded skin was more sensitive than usual.

She had sat up in her chair, leaning on her arms, which sat on either side of her thighs. Slightly bent over, she felt her breasts away slightly with every breath and, feeling so self-conscious but wildly aroused, took her last look at the Domme before her before obediently lowering her gaze. 

"Mistress, yes, Ma'am," she went to say confidently, but barely a whisper escaped. 

"Good girl," came the reply. 

A flush of pleasure stole through Elyse. She had made the right decision in signing the contract. If she had had any doubt, the proof was in the tiny puddle of dew she was sure was pooling in the chair between her legs. 

"But you don't get to sit on chairs anymore. Your place is on the ground at my feet." Her Domme stroked her hair at her temple and Elyse was sure she would start to purr. Her pussy throbbed, and she was so caught up in the moment that she didn't move. 

Eyes closed, Elyse felt Sarah's fingers lightly caress her shoulder, a trail of fire following in their wake. Her fingers slowly trailed down her chest to play with her nipple. Elyse groaned, need building. The same fingers travelled slowly from nipple to clit, tracing slow circles around her engorged flesh, bringing Elyse closer to the precipise, but not quite enough to tip over the edge. Despite herself, Elyse moved her hips up and down in time with Sarah's strokes, wanting more - needing more - but receiving nothing but more of the same. Blood pounded, thoughts stopped - she was nothing but a bundle of nerves. 

Sarah had found her weakness. 

"Is this what you want? Release?"

Eyes still tightly shut, Elyse nodded, "Yes please!"

And suddenly, she was ripped from her fantasy with a stinging slap across her face. Elyse rocked in her chair, shock rushing through her system.

"Your only want is to obey me. The correct response should have been that your only desire is what I desire."

Sarah stood. Elyse once again curled in on herself. 

As Sarah turned her back, Elyse felt a myriad of emotions. Desire obviously dominated, but as her moment of folly faded, shame came to the fore. Shame, and thrill. Desire and humiliation. Disappointment - disproportionately surrounding her lack of orgasm - and excitement. So caught up jin her own dark thoughts, Elyse didn't notice the bag Sarah sat on the floor next to her chair. 

"We're going to take you away now. When you return, if that is indeed your wish, you will be a changed woman."

Sarah looped some rope around her forearm and, walking behind Elyse, drew her elbows together behind her. She felt Sarah loop it around the tender skin of her upper arms - up and around and through - until her chest was thrust forward from the angle. 

This, of course, caused her tits to offer themselves to whoever was near, and, as Sarah tied Elyse's wrists together behind her, she felt her pussy once again start to moisten. 

The simple tie was enough, Sarah realised, for Elyse to grow wet. She needn't do anything more.

She was going to be the perfect slave.

Elyse, of course, had never felt more vulnerable. She had in part dreaded the time when her dominant tied her but, having finally experienced just a wee bite, no longer feared restraint. 

At least, she didn't yet. 

Sarah moved to Elyse's front and pulled her up from the chair. She slipped her right hand down her body once again to her slit, tracing her nether lips, barely touching, as her left hand drew up Elyse's nipple to her mouth. Now flushed bright red, the slavegirl moaned, her hips attempting to hump her hand, though Sarah's aim was to tease, not satisfy. So despite the girl's desperation, or perhaps because of it, Sarah withdrew her hand and continued to prepare the girl for transportation. 

Sarah slipped a gimp mask over Elyse's face, much to her everlasting, blessèd humiliation. It had no openings for her eyes, but had a hole over her mouth. It further reinforced in the slavegirl's head that to Sarah, she really was just a bunch of holes for her to play with. A harness ball gag was tightened over the girl's head; enough to crush the girl's mouth into the gag, but not enough to cause too much pain. 

As the slavegirl was deprived of her sight, the use of her hands, and the ability to protest, she felt herself lose control over her body. Oh, she had already lost that of course, being in restraints as she was, but she no longer felt she could control her thoughts. She had never experienced any sort of real bondage before, and had spent a lot of her alone time fantasising about what it would be like. 

But now, confronted with the reality, Elyse found she was just a bunch of nerve endings that needed to be stimulated. It was degrading. Humiliating. And erotic in the extreme. 

Lost in her arousal, Elyse felt her Domme slip on a collar of some sort. It felt so foreign to her, and was somewhat larger than the simple slave collars she had Googled. This was quite high up on her neck, tightened so that she couldn't move her head. A chain was connected, and she felt it drop between her breasts. 

She was unaware of her moans, but Sarah heard each one. It was what prompted her to continue beyond the original bondage plan, and add a few more features to Elyse's predicament. 

She balled Elyse's hands up with her own, wrapping each of them up in bondage tape. As Elyse lost more of her physical freedom, her cunt started to drip with lust down her inner thighs. Her gag had caused her to start drooling and, even with Sarah's famed self-control, the Domme struggled to contain her lust at the sight of her drooling, dripping acquisition. 

As a final touch, Elyse felt Sarah wrap rope twice around her waist before threading it from just beneath her belly button, between her pussy lips, and up to her tied wrists. When Sarah drew it tight, it pulled her hands right down to her ass, restricting her movements even more, causing her back to arch dramatically. Elyse had never before felt such ecstasy.

Pushing her down to the floor, Sarah lifted her dress and, tipping Elyse's head back, told Elyse to stick out her tongue as far as she could. Pulling her panties to the side, Sarah shoved her clit in front of the slavegirl's mouth, and told her to lick. 

Elyse felt so special in that moment. She sensed, rather than saw, her Domme lose control. She felt beautiful, desired, and so incredibly frustrated from the lack of human touch on her clit. She rocked against the crotch rope, until pleasure and pain started to blend into one. It wasn't enough. 

It was a feeling she would get to know well. 

And so she continued to lick at her Mistress' pussy, in order that she might be rewarded. Sarah felt herself about to explode, and so, locking her knees, pulled Elyse's face right up to her crotch as her body pulsed in ecstasy. 

Oh yes. This slut was a keeper. 

Pulling her up once again to her feet with her lead, and leading the naked girl through the house and into the garage, then bundling her into the boot, Sarah finally allowed herself to smile outwardly. 

Six months? By the end of her first, Elyse wouldn't want to leave. 


Chapter 2 - Update (2016/04/04)

Elyse had arrived completely disoriented.

She didn't know how long she'd been in the boot of her Domme's car. Truthfully, she didn't care. She had sunk into her personal subspace, discovering it to be rather pleasurable. The movement of the car had tossed her about in the boot, and she had loved every second of it. It had emphasised her inability to move. And if she tugged at her wrists just so, pulling at the rope buried deep in her pussy, a shock of electricity would run through her.

It wasn't enough to orgasm, but it was enough to satisfy her in that moment.

As Sarah opened the boot, it was obvious to her that she really had caught quite the little slut. Her restrictive bondage distressing her not at all, Elyse either hadn't noticed that the boot was open, or simply didn't care. Back arched from the pussy rope tied to her wrists, elbows tied so tight that they had to be grinding together, the little slut was humping the rough hemp between her slit.

Drooling from the ball gag, Sarah had never seen a more erotic site. Elyse's puffy pussy lips were glistening with her juices, and her sweet little moans almost made her want to have mercy on the little tramp.

Almost.

Smacking her lips, Sarah yanked at Elyse's ankles, angling them over the edge of the boot. Pulling her up by the chain dangling between her tits, Elyse was yanked out of whatever pleasant little fantasy was going on in her head, and brought back to the reality of her situation. As she adjusted to being unconfined, she sat quietly, angling her head every few seconds as if she were trying to work out what was going on around her.

But even allowing her a few seconds to adjust was too much of a mercy for Sarah, and she yanked once again on her leash, pulling her further towards her unravelling.

Had her face not been covered by the tight leather hood, Elyse would've burned red with humiliation. Sarah must have seen her humping the rope. She must have been moaning for sure, trying to jerk herself off like a dog in heat. She was no better than an animal.

As she felt herself being lead forward, she slowly put one foot in front of the other, learning to walk again without the aid of her sight. Hands tucked away behind her, she couldn't get over the feeling of complete powerlessness. She could feel her lust between her legs as she walked, coating her thighs. At this point, her arms were in agony, her pussy burned, but it did nothing but turn her on even more.

It was sick.

Lost in her own thoughts, Elyse didn't notice when Mistress stopped walking until she felt her hands on her shoulders, pushing her down, as though she wanted her to sit.

Feeling a metal surface beneath her, she let her knees give way, sitting on a cold, hard surface. Hands pulled her legs apart, roping them to the legs of the chair just below the knee and at the ankle.

Moaning, she felt her bindings at her elbows and wrists cut away, the rope between her legs pulled away, jolting her with a shock of intense pain. Tears filled her eyes, a little squeal escaped her lips, and she felt drool slip past her lips, over the hood, to hit her bare chest. It ran in rivulets down her stomach to her clit, which was now bared for everyone to see.

Before she had too much time to calm down, she felt her wrists being pulled to the arm rests, and tied at the wrists. Straps went across her chest, one above and below her tits.

She was sobbing. She felt overwhelmed. Conflicted, because she didn't feel any less turned on. It was rough treatment.

Then the water jets started.

From her neck down, she was sprayed with cold water. She heard someone laugh, and when she heard an unfamiliar voice pipe up, she realised it wasn't just her and Mistress in the room.

"What service may I offer you today, Mistress Sarah?"

"Just a thorough clean. I'll save the fun stuff for later."

Fun stuff?

Elyse jerked when she felt several hands on her, stroking her body at her shoulders, tits, stomach and thighs. Beyond the leather of her hood, she thought she could smell soap, then all thoughts vanished as the hands turned to fingers playing with her nipples and sore pussy lips.

Slow, languid circles around her nipples sent shivers down her spine, and when the fingers at her pussy lips turned into a thumb on her clit, her unencumbered hips started humping once again.

It's because they won't let me cum, she justified. She wasn't an animal. She was just desperate.

The thumb started stroking quicker, the fingers at her nipples started slowly pinching, her breathing turning from breathy moans to hitched sobs.

Just as she worked up the courage to address her mistress and ask to cum, pain exploded at her nipples, and a scream escaped her lips.

Her hips stopped moving. Her orgasm died. She'd never felt such a sensation before.

She tried to control her breathing, and felt a hand on top of her head.

"Breathe, cunt. This is your new normal. Relax into the pain."

As the pain dulled, she felt a weight on each of her nipples. These must be clamps, she thought, relieved it wasn't anything more permanent.

Finally, her nubs numbed, and her breathing returned to normal.

Sarah thought it was all rather charming. The cunt truly was a complete BDSM virgin. Clearly she'd never worn nipple clamps before.

And she'd signed up for this?! The girl was a fool.

As Sarah continued to prepare her new slave, she made plans for the next few days - Elyse's first week.

Absentmindedly removing the ball gag harness and hood, deliberately avoiding eye contact, Sarah wiped the girl's face before taping her mouth shut, and wrapping her head, from chin to the top of her head, several times with bondage tape. Over the top of this, she added a hood - this time without an opening for her mouth - before releasing her from the chair and moving her to a wooden sawhorse.

There, it was a matter of going through the motions with her fellow trainers. They fitted her with a leather strait jacket - though it was a specially made jacket, with cut-outs for her tits - as she was bent over the horse, while the others tied her ankles to each leg of the table.

For Sarah, it was important to keep blasé about the whole process. No doubt she was popping a lot of Elyse's cherries, particularly as the trainers prepared her virgin asshole for her first butt plug. Enemas were a particular favourite of Sarah's.

No doubt as her little rosebud was fingered with lube, the girl would be screaming and crying - she had marked no anal play on her limits sheet.

No doubt she'd be shocked to feel the tiny hose push into her tight asshole. Shocked as she felt water flow into her bowels.

No doubt, she'd start to be turned on once again to feel her ankles being brought up and strapped from ankle to thigh. Conflicted, as she was made to push out the water in a humiliating spray.

No doubt she'd be panicking when she was lifted from the horse to the cold, concrete floor. There'd be no telling what was going through her head as she felt Sarah's hands - though it could have been a stranger, she had no way of knowing - push her thighs apart and run the head of the butt plug through her pussy lips, though perhaps she was thinking it would be put in her hungry cunt.

But there was absolutely no doubt in Sarah's mind that, as Elyse was screaming through her hood, the plug, once snug in her little asshole, wasn't coming out anytime soon. A strap between her legs and attached to her strait jacket ensured that.

As she left the screaming, crying girl on the floor of the prep room, hugging herself via her pretty black strait jacket, she was struck by the thought that it was rather appropriate a choice of apparatus.

It was likely the only comfort she'd get any time soon.

Laughing, she shut off the lights and left the girl to her own thoughts.