“Abigail has always been something of a cold fish,” Dianne said softly. “… a very sadistic cold fish, but a cold fish nevertheless.”
Everyone at the table laughed softly… except me. I was staring at my empty glass and wondering what answer I was going to give Shelly.
“So,” Shelly said calmly, “have you decided on an answer?”
“Yes,” I said in a shaky voice.
“Yes, you have decided or yes, you want to submit yourself to me?” Shelly replied.
If I hadn’t had so much to drink, I never would have had the nerve, but I said loudly, “Yes! I want to be your slave!”
Conversation at all of the tables near us suddenly stopped and it got very quiet in the room. I know I was trembling almost violently as I looked over at Shelly. “That was probably all of the alcohol talking,” I said in a shaky voice, “hopefully I will still feel that way in the morning.”
That’s when Margi started laughing uproariously. “Didn’t you read the rules posted on the wall outside the changing room?” she said, smacking her hand flat on the table and then pointing back to the entrance. “Rule number seven: No potential slave may be served alcohol or any other substance that might impair her decision-making. Violation of this rule will result in expulsion from the club.”
“You mean?” I stammered.
“Yes,” Dianne said, “your drinks were all non-alcoholic. All of your wild behavior tonight was just you.” She looked over at Shelly and continued, “And I have watched you melt every time Shelly looked at you. I kept expecting you to throw yourself at her feet and beg to be her slave.”
“So did I?” I replied softly. Then I looked into Shelly’s deep black eyes and asked, “What do I do now?”
“First we get you properly dressed for the evening,” she said as she lifted my dress over my head. I must have put my arms above my head to let the dress slip off because the next thing I knew I was standing naked in front of her. “Now,” she continued, “we go up on stage.”
The Head Mistress was waiting for us. She pointed to the floor in front of herself and I sank to my knees in front of Shelly. “Do you do this of your own free will?” the Mistress asked.
“I do,” I answered.
“Mistress Shelly,” she continued, “do you claim this submissive as your own slave with all the rights and responsibilities that entails.”
“I do,” Shelly answered.
The Mistress leaned down to me and said softly, “Now you bow down and submit yourself to Shelly as your Mistress.”
I intended to bow, but somehow I ended up flat on my face like I had always imagined myself. My arms were stretched out and my fingers were just short of touching Shelly’s feet. “Mistress Shelly,” I said clearly, “I submit my body, mind, and spirit to you as my Mistress forever.”
“What name do you give your new slave?” the Mistress asked.
“Precious,” Shelly answered. “Her name shall be slave precious.”
“Come back upright on your knees,” the Mistress instructed and I did so.
Shelly was now holding a collar and leash in her hands. The Mistress looked at me and asked, “Do you accept this collar from Mistress Shelly as symbol of the bond which holds you to her and the protection which she gives you?”
“I do,” I said firmly and the Mistress nodded to Shelly.
Shelly– my Mistress– turned the collar so that I could read the brass nameplate on the front. It said, “precious – Property of Mistress Shelly.” She smiled at me as she turned the collar back around and then strapped it on my neck. The leash draped slightly down my back and then over my shoulder to Shelly’s hand.
Margi was suddenly standing behind Shelly. She reached for something on the sides of Shelly’s catsuit and the bottom panel swung down and open. Shelly lowered herself down on the divan which had been placed behind her and I crawled up between her legs.
“Kiss my mouth first,” Mistress Shelly said and I moved up so I could do so. Our tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths. After a few minutes, Shelly said, “Now do what you have been dreaming of doing while you masturbated on the floor after I left.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered as I slid back down and began lapping at her nectar. The club clapped and cheered when, many minutes later, my Mistress finally had her first orgasm at my hands… or should I say my tongue.
A few other students questioned my collar when I first began wearing it to class, but most just accepted it for what it was, a symbol of the special relationship I have with my Mistress. Mistress Shelly wants me naked around the apartment, even when friends are over or we are having a party. But she allows me to dress if outsiders or trades people are going to be in the flat. She also allows me to dress appropriately for the weather, especially when I am walking to class when it is cold outside.
When it is warm, I prefer to wear a sundress with nothing under it. One of the last warm days of fall, one of the other girls in one of my classes said to me, “I wish I had the freedom to dress like that.” That’s when I realized that night at the club had not enslaved me. It had set me free.
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END OF STORY
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