Your Master Requires Your Perfection

by Jack Peacock

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© Placed in public domain by author - Jack Peacock

Storycodes: M+/f+; bond; naked; prison; cuffs; training; slave; chastity; collar; punish; reluct; cons; XX

Continues from

Part 2

Incident Management

After the shift meeting broke up Steve headed for the new arrival holding area. Central whispered directions in his ear so it didn’t take long to find the place. He went into the Warden’s entrance. There were a few chairs and some wall monitors showing different views of the holding area. One Warden sat drinking a cup of coffee, watching the monitors. Occasionally he lifted a set of headphones to one ear, listening in on the conversations.

“Steve, isn’t it? My name’s Joe.” Steve shook his outstretched hand. “We have a little time, grab a cup and have a seat. I’ll brief you on what we’ll be doing.” Joe gestured toward the coffeemaker in the corner.

Steve poured a cup and sat down next to Joe. “I just seated the last arrival a few minutes ago. We’ll let them absorb some of the room ambiance for a while.” The monitor displayed a line of women sitting on a long wooden bench, behind cell bars. “Handcuffs behind their backs, leg irons on their ankles. No clothes, of course. Just to make it interesting their ankle chains are locked to the floor. Nothing says helpless like being immobilized.”

Steve used the camera control to pan across the bench, studying each woman for a moment. “They don’t look too happy,” he pointed out. He wouldn’t be too pleased either if forced into the same situation.

Joe nodded. “Yeah, not the most pleasant of waiting rooms. It keeps them off balance. They have no idea what’s going on. It puts them in the right frame of mind for us. We provide the stability they need. You’ll be surprised at how eager they are to please you.”

Central came on the line, whispering in Steve’s ear that another woman was about to arrive. Joe explained, “This one is their instructor. She’ll do the orientation. You can handle it. Take charge of her in the hallway outside, bring her into the holding area and introduce her. Her name’s Cathy, she’s been through here so she knows the rules. She won’t give you any trouble, but keep an eye on her anyway. We don’t show any favoritism, even to instructors. I’ll be here if you need backup.”

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. He sipped at his coffee, stood up, checked his uniform and finished with a last look at the monitors. He went to the door and out into the corridor. The monitoring areas were strictly off limits to all females, even the instructors. Central coordinated women in transit to make sure none of them knew the places existed. From the hallway it was just one more door.

A moment later the shift captain came around the corner, leading a woman restrained with the standard issue handcuffs and leg chains used for transportation. Central informed him her name was Cathy and she would be placed in his custody. Mindful of keeping conversation to a minimum he took hold of her other arm when the captain stopped. They nodded to each other, a silent transfer of control. She didn’t speak. She knew talking was forbidden.

Central mentioned she needed to know why she was here. He started to explain, “In a moment you will deliver an orientation lecture to a group of new arrivals. When I open the door you will enter first. I’ll stop in front of the group. You will turn to face the wall and remain there until I tell you to start. When you finish you will go back to the same position and face the wall again. You may move around while talking. Is that clear?”

She looked up at him. “Yes sir, I understand. No questions.”

He took her over to the door to the holding area. Before opening it he pushed her against the door, pinning her with one hand. With his free hand he checked her handcuffs. They were locked, snug not tight, keyholes away from her hands, everything in order as he expected. She didn’t move. He glanced down at her leg irons. Finally he ran a hand over the chastity belt around her waist. A quick tug showed it was secure. He took his hand off her back, shifting her to one side so he could open the door. She might be a long term resident of the Center, an instructor, but it didn’t hurt to remind her who was in charge.

He knew Joe was watching. Central was always there too. Steve might be a newcomer but he took his duties seriously. Instructors received no special consideration. Pulling out his key ring from his belt he unlocked the holding area door. This particular door also had a heavy and very noisy bar across it. He worked the lever to open it and slide it out of the way. It was a totally unnecessary addition but did serve a purpose, to warn the women inside he was coming.

It went smoothly. He led her to the center where she immediately turned to face the wall. Everyone on the bench sat up, staring straight ahead. He took his time inspecting them; their diligence should not go unnoticed. He turned them over to Cathy and left, again making a noisy show of closing the door.

Back in the monitoring room Joe had his headphones on, listening to Cathy talk. Steve refreshed his coffee before joining Joe at the monitors. Idly he played with the camera control panning back and forth, zooming in to catch their expressions as Cathy delivered her speech. He was busy looking at the woman on the end when Joe suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at the other monitor. “Steve, we have a problem. Get Central, we’re going to need some help. Two more, at least. They’ll know what to bring.”

On the screen Steve saw one of the women standing up. He grabbed the phone and alerted Central. They were on the same video feed; help would be there momentarily. He picked up the headphones and listened in. What he heard confirmed his suspicions. She was off on a rant and had to be stopped immediately.

Joe pulled open a drawer, grabbing a large gag as they headed out the door. Two more Wardens came running around the corner. One held a hood in his hand. As the senior officer Joe laid out their plan. “Steve, you take the doors. Mike, you take charge of Cathy. Larry and I will subdue and extract that woman. Steve will take charge of the room as soon as we get her out the main door. Central will fill you in on what to do after that. Everyone ready?”

Steve nodded. The others lined up while he worked the door bar and unlocked it. The moment he pulled the door open they rushed in. Steve took a quick look to assess the situation. Cathy was at the far end, facing the wall. Mike wouldn’t need any help there. He went to the cell door, key at the ready. He quickly unlocked and swung it open. The extraction team was right behind him. Steve kept an eye on the rest of the women while Joe and Larry took charge of Laura. In seconds they had her gagged, hooded, and were dragging her toward the door. She was trying to fight back but with the restraints on she didn’t accomplish much. He shut and locked the cell door the moment they were clear.

Steve backed up to the center of the hallway for a better view of the entire group. Mike had Cathy in hand, next to the cell door. The rest of the women were quiet, a good sign. Meanwhile Central started speaking in his ear. They wanted Cathy placed in the holding area. He saw Mike reach for the cell door, confirmation he got the same message. It was time to take charge of the room.

He needed their attention focused on him. The first requirement was stability and reassurance. Steve started with an apology followed by approval at the way they responded. Next he needed something to divert them away from the incident. Central came to the rescue, informing him they had moved up the new arrival meal break. While he spoke Mike finished with Cathy.

Steve took time out for an inspection, carefully looking at each woman on the bench. Only Cathy showed any signs of distress. They were responding to him, exactly as he intended. He announced the upcoming meal and let them know they would have some time alone first. Mike checked the cell door before the two of them left.

Once outside Steve shut and barred the door. “Central, situation contained,” he announced to the microphones. “Mike, we better get to those monitors.”

Mike already had the Warden’s door open. “What’s the deal with Cathy? Why did Central want her in with the group?”

Steve shook his head. He sat down at the monitors and picked up a set of headphones. “That surprised me too. She did the right thing, backing away. She must have known we’d be coming.” He panned one of the cameras to the end of the bench where Cathy was sitting. Zooming in he could see her crying. “I see it now, she blames herself. She expected to be hauled off along with that other woman.”

Mike leaned over to look at Cathy on the display. “You’re right. Putting her in with the group will give her time to settle down. She’ll see it as a demotion from instructor, the punishment she thinks she deserves. An overnight stay should be sufficient. We can pull her out tomorrow if she behaves.”

Both the Wardens continued to watch over the group, until Central informed them the meals were in the break room. Steve decided to go slow in moving them by requesting a long, circuitous route from Central. It would be an irritating distraction they could safely complain about while eating, rather than trying to find a way to rehash the incident without breaking the order not to discuss it. He and Mike worked out how they would release one woman at a time to the break room tables.

It took time but everything went smoothly. Central needed Mike elsewhere, leaving Steve alone to oversee the break room. He went to the back of the room where a partitioned area was reserved for Wardens. On the table was a tray so he could eat too.

The partition hid him from view but the display in his area showed him everything. He was halfway through a ham sandwich when he saw Paula’s arm go up. He hadn’t seen anything on the monitor, and Central was silent. Puzzled, he stood up and went out to see what was going on.

The moment he stood up, conversation stopped at the tables. Everyone sat up, hands in their laps, as he walked by. Wardens weren’t supposed to take advantage of the Center guests but Steve did allow himself a moment to enjoy the scene. He took his time, looking over every table as he went by. This was one of the perks of being a Warden. Every woman in the room was under his direct control and they proved, to his satisfaction, they knew it.

When he reached Paula the three women all sat in position. He didn’t see anything wrong. From the uncovered plates he knew they had been eating. He gave Paula permission to speak. Her explanation left him confused. It wasn’t clear she had actually broken a rule; he’d have to review the recording first. But that would take too long, he had to act now. He tried to buy some time to think by going through the motions of inspecting the three of them.

Central came on line, informing him that Paula had an extremely strict master. They also warned him that Cathy was a close friend. The third woman at the table was a first time arrival. The immediate problem was how to deal with Paula. She was accustomed to very high expectations, above even what the Center practiced. That settled it; Steve knew he would have come up with some punishment for her regardless of the details. But what would be appropriate?

Seeing the half eaten plate in front of Paula gave him the idea. He ordered her up, cuffed her hands behind her back, and forced her to kneel. No, he thought, not enough. He ordered her to spread her legs wide apart. Now he could finish it. Using Cathy was out of the question since they were friends. He ordered the other woman, the newcomer named Lenora, to feed Paula by hand. That would make a point to the rest of the group as well as satisfy her need to be disciplined. As a bonus it might be worthwhile to see how well that new one carried out her instructions.

Steve gave them permission to continue before returning to his area. Once he was out of sight the conversation picked up again. On the monitor he kept an eye on their table. Out of curiosity he picked up the phone, dialed Central, and asked them to replay the conversation. A few minutes later it began to play in his earpiece.

He listened carefully. Paula never actually revealed what would be considered significant information. She did admit to previous attendance, and Cathy had gone along, but for Steve that didn’t merit disciplinary action. At most he would have resorted to a verbal reprimand in private. For her to react that way she must have a tough, intolerant master. Unfortunately she escalated it to the point where he had to act. Central was required to report any punishment to the woman’s owner by the end of the day, so her master could decide if further correction was needed. Steve hoped for Paula’s sake her master would be satisfied with his creative choice of punishment.

Cathy’s owner would be notified too, since she wasn’t going to be released at the end of her instructor shift. Apparently Central had decided to err on the side of caution in her case. Steve considered her situation. His preference would be to leave her in the secure area for a few days, maybe a week. She hadn’t been at fault but he felt it best to reinforce that she was still subject to punishment after incidents of disobedience, even though Cathy had not been the one at fault. It would be interesting to see how she was handled.

Although he focused on Paula’s table Steve did not neglect the rest of the group. Every few minutes he would pan around with the camera, and listen in to what was being said. Most of the conversations were about Paula, which was no surprise. Seeing someone else being disciplined was an excellent incentive for everyone to watch their own behavior. Vague threats and ominous hints had changed into an up close and personal kind of reality. They would be motivated in following orders for the rest of the day.

Tiger by the Tail

That evening after his shift ended Steve sat at a table in the Center cafeteria, eating supper and reflecting on the day’s events. The one incident was unfortunate but had been dealt with quickly and the impact minimized. The rest of the day had gone well.

“Mind if I join you?” Steve looked up to see a large man standing at his table. “My name’s Mike Vitelic, better known around here as Big Mike, sometimes mining engineer and full time insensitive control freak.”

Steve stood to shake his hand, “Steve Garran, here to fill in as a Warden on a temporary basis. A control freak? How did you ever get into a place like this? Have a seat.”

Big Mike sat down across from Steve. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. By way of explanation I own Paula, the woman you dealt with this afternoon. I’d like to get your perspective on what happened, if you don’t mind. I’ve seen the video.”

Steve studied the man across the table. So this was Paula’s dictatorial master, according to Central. Big Mike was a fitting nickname; he could pass for a weightlifter or pro wrestler. “I’m not sure what I can add if you’ve seen what happened. She admitted to breaking a rule, in front of others. I didn’t have many options.”

Big Mike held up his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not second-guessing you. You have to understand how Paula thinks. I am firm with her, but it’s by necessity. In her own way she is very demanding in what she expects from men, at least the dominant kind. If she believes she’s done something wrong, real or not, she has to be held accountable for it.

“Normally I’d handle it, but I’m off on a business trip in an hour. Whenever I’m gone she has to go to the secure area for her own good. You might say she’s the polar opposite of a control freak; she needs to be under a man’s control on a constant basis. Believe it or not she thrives in there. Tell me, after you finished with her punishment, how did she act?”

Steve had been surprised at how Paula showed no aftereffects when he had released her from kneeling on the dining room floor. “As if nothing had happened, that’s how she responded. I did notice that. I expected some resentment, maybe a little hesitation, but no, there was no push back. If anything I’d call it contentment, or maybe satisfaction. I wouldn’t say she looked too happy while kneeling on that floor.”

Big Mike nodded, “Yeah, that’s Paula. Despite what happened today you’ll find you never have any trouble with her. Whenever she’s in your group, and you need them to do something that may be difficult, start with her. She’ll set an example for the rest. She does need extra attention, though. Even with the smallest infraction you need to respond quickly, and when you do, don’t hold back. That may sound cruel, but you saw her today. She has to be satisfied the punishment fits the crime, and in her eyes any infraction starts out as a major felony.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Steve answered. “You saw how she pretty much forced my hand? If I’d overheard it before she called me I might have had a few words of warning, nothing more. What she did was borderline anyway.”

Mike shook his head. “Oh no, that’s not how she sees it. It was at about the same level as her standing up, throwing her tray at you, and then instructing you in great detail where to go and how to get there.” Steve laughed at the description. “She thinks she got off easy. Next time you’ll have to do more, or she won’t respect you. In fact, even if she behaves flawlessly, make something up and give her a hard time about it. Maybe she’s not staring at the wall right, so chew her out at length, preferably in front of a group.”

“Okay, if you insist. Not my style, but it’s your call. If you don’t my asking, do you have to spend a lot of time keeping an eye on her?”

Mike shrugged. “Yes I do, but I don’t mind. I suppose it’s a bit like that old cliché, grabbing a tiger by the tail. Whatever you do, don’t let go. I’ve got both hands on that tail so yeah, I have to work just as hard keeping track of and enforcing rules as she does. Heaven forbid I forget one and she has to remind me. She never criticizes, of course, but I get looks that let me know I better get with the program.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “To each their own, I suppose. No offense, but I wouldn’t want to change places with you.”

Mike stood up. “None taken. Yeah she’s a handful, my Paula, but I’ve never regretted owning her. Anyway, gotta run if I’m gonna beat freeway rush hour to get to the airport. Nice meeting you, and thanks again for taking care of Paula.”

Afternoon Class

After eating we were taken to a classroom. There were chairs stacked in a corner but we weren’t allowed to use them. Instead we had to kneel on the floor. The floor was tiled and would have been very uncomfortable on bare knees, but fortunately we were given cushions. I was grateful for that.

The Wardens assigned the seating. We weren’t allowed to talk or look around. We all had ankle chains on but no handcuffs. Except for Cathy, she was taken out of our group and brought to the front of the room. The Warden escorting her forced her against the wall, wrists still locked behind her back. He kept one hand on her arm while he waited for the other Warden to organize the rest of us on the floor.

Once we were in place the Warden in front spoke. “Alright, we’re ready. I want you to pay special attention in this class. There will be a lot of information presented. You are expected to learn it, remember it, and practice it while you are here.” He turned Cathy around to face the class.

“While this class is in session Cathy will be the instructor. She is well known for her skills and knowledge regarding the subject for this afternoon. You will do whatever she says. Do not interrupt her. Do not speak out of turn. She is required to immediately report anyone who misbehaves.

“When the session ends she will no longer be an instructor. You are not to show any deference to her outside of this class.” He reached behind Cathy to remove her cuffs. When he finished she stood quietly, arms at her side. “You may begin after we leave.” That last comment was directed to Cathy.

The moment the door closed behind the Wardens Cathy began. “We have quite a bit on the agenda for today. Try to keep up. There will be time for questions later. For now you will kneel where you are.” She paced back and forth across the front row as she spoke. “Today we will talk about presenting yourself and keeping position. I’m going to teach you how to sit, how to stand and how to kneel. This is always the first lesson when you arrive because it’s one of the most important.

“First thing, remember there’s only one right way, the Wardens’ way, and no exceptions are ever made for anyone. Maybe you don’t like it; maybe you think you can improve on it. They aren’t interested. What you learn here, in the next few hours, you must put into practice every minute of the day from now on. You will get it right.” I didn’t miss how she stressed that last part.

A side wall was covered with mirror panels. She went over to that section of the classroom. “I want all of you to stand up, now.” I stood up and turned to face her. “Each of you find a spot in front of the mirror. There’s a blue line on the floor, line up on that. Do not step over the line. There should be enough room for everyone. Bring your cushions, but put them on the floor behind you.”

I found a spot in the middle of the line, facing the mirror. I looked down to see where I was. I lined up my big toes with the blue line, not quite touching it. My reflection was quite a sight: lots of skin offset by the chastity belt around my waist and between my legs.

“Good,” Cathy said. “Next, I want you to stare straight ahead. Look at your own eyes. Concentrate on that, nothing else. Keep your back straight and shoulders pulled back. Your arms should be at your sides, palms facing in. Your feet should be slightly apart, not touching but close together.”

I looked at myself. I was no beauty queen, maybe average looking if someone were generous. I felt a hand poke me between my shoulder blades. “Pull back those shoulders. The men like to look at our breasts. Show them off to the best advantage.” That was Cathy, behind me. I was embarrassed but I still shifted my shoulders. “Your legs are too far apart. Knees should be close together, but not touching.”

I started to look down. Cathy grabbed my hair and pulled back, painfully. “Do NOT move your head! Learn to get it right without looking.” I slid my feet together until I felt my knees touch, and then backed off. “That’s better. Everyone, once you are in position never turn your head without permission.”

She moved on to the woman next to me. No one was spared some type of adjustment. Even Paula, who I thought would know this by heart, was subjected to Cathy’s criticism. She kept us standing for some time, walking back and forth behind us.

“Study your reflection. This is how you must present yourself to the Wardens, or your master. This is an obligation we must fulfill. Every one of you is here because of the special qualities you possess, the talents that make us so desirable and valued by the men who run our lives. They take on a great burden in assuming responsibility for us. Show them you appreciate what they do for you.

“Never forget you have a duty to please those men. Holding position is one way to demonstrate your devotion, your obedience, the way you accept his authority. Look at the mirror. What do you want him to see? What are you saying to him?”

After hearing her words I did take a closer look at myself. Head held high so that the collar would be clearly visible. Keep our arms to the side, to frame the chastity belt around our waists. I began to understand why we must stand this way. I was in my place, emphasizing the ways in which I was subject to his physical control.

“This is your normal stance. Most of the time in here you will find yourself facing a wall. Do not look to the side. Study every small crack in the concrete. Imagine you can feel the texture of the paint. But most importantly, learn to keep those eyes focused in front of you no matter what’s going on.”

I wondered about why we had to face the wall so often. It must be an obvious question, for Cathy began to explain. “Why are you required to face the wall? The easy answer is the Wardens order it, so we obey. There are other reasons though.

“In the orientation I mentioned that information was precious. You will soon appreciate just how little we know about what’s happening around us. What time is it? You don’t know, and you never will while you’re in here. What’s in the news? I don’t have a clue, and you won’t either. When you face that wall you won’t even know what’s happening right behind you. It’s one more way you are forced to depend on the Wardens.”

That made sense, from their perspective. The less I knew, the easier it was to manage me. I didn’t much care for it though. I liked to plan out my day first thing in the morning, while eating breakfast. My schedule will still be arranged in advance from now on, but I won’t be the one doing the planning.

“When a Warden has you in the standing position you can expect two other commands. The first is to place your hands behind your back. You do not break position other than to place your hands in the small of your back, close together but not touching, and keep your palms facing each other. He will, nearly always, fasten handcuffs on your wrists.” We already had a taste of that, the moment we arrived.

“The other command is to spread your legs. That means you change your position so that your feet are far apart, within the limits of your leg chains. Pull the chain taut. The best technique is to keep your left foot on the floor and slide your right to the side. If you don’t have the room then move both feet. What’s important is you demonstrate your ankles are chained together. I want everyone to spread now.”

I pulled my leg chain tight, my legs as wide as possible given the length of the chain. It wasn’t uncomfortable since the leg irons sharply limited my stance. What immediately caught my attention was in the way it drew my eyes to the chastity belt and the way it ran between my thighs. It was a stark reminder of how we are forced to display our sexuality.

“Hands behind your head, arms wide, pull back those shoulders as much as you can.” She made us stand that way for several minutes. “The men like to see this, so pay close attention now or prepare to explain later on when you are not found to be pleasing.”

Cathy kept us at for quite some time. How long, I had no idea. She was right, there were no clocks anywhere. Over and over she paced behind us, watching for the slightest mistake.

“Are you getting tired? Would you like to sit down?” I would, but from Cathy’s tone I had some misgivings. “Okay, I want everyone to go over to the corner and bring back a chair. Put it down so that when sitting your feet are in the same place as if you were standing. Do it now.”

I followed the group over to the corner and picked out a chair. I took it back to my spot and sat down to check the position. I had to slide it forward so I was in the same place.

Cathy waited for all of us to sit down before she continued. “Now you learn how to sit. Both feet on the floor, knees together, legs almost touching, back straight, head high, and keep those eyes front. Fold your hands in your lap, left hand over the right; keep those fingers together, palms down, and at right angles. Check in the mirror to see how you look.”

It was almost identical to our standing position, except for the hands. I didn’t want my hair pulled again so I studied my reflection. I moved my left hand slightly so it was properly aligned. And I remembered to pull back my shoulders this time.

I saw Cathy behind me, in the mirror. I waited for her criticism. It was obvious why the Wardens used her to teach position; she was fixated on perfection. She looked me up and down, even coming around to check from the front. Instead of a long list of what I was doing wrong she just stood there, staring at me. I did my best to hold still, hoping I wouldn’t flinch when she started on what I missed.

When she moved on to the woman next to me I was shocked. Why was she ignoring me? My neighbor, who got the full treatment on why her hands weren’t correct, wasn’t spared from lengthy criticism. The only explanation I could think of was I met with her approval. I didn’t relax though. In the mirror I saw Cathy look back at me several times. I felt like a mouse waiting for the cat to pounce on me the moment I flinched.

As with our standing exercise she kept us in position for quite a while. It wasn’t so bad sitting down. When she decided we’d had enough she allowed us to stand up and stretch. We restacked the chairs in the corner.

After that we moved on to the last topic for the class, how to kneel. This time the cushions replaced the chair. Our knees had to be close to the line. In some respects it was like sitting, back straight, eyes front, all the usual. We knelt with our knees together, although Cathy warned us if ordered we would spread our legs wide. I had seen that happen with Paula. Our hands were to be placed halfway down the thigh, palm down.

Cathy didn’t spare me on this position. My feet were wrong. My fingers were apart, not close together, my elbows stuck out too far. She was on me until I got everything right, and even then she kept walking around me, looking for something else I had done wrong. It was a relief when she finally began on the unfortunate woman to my right.

I soon realized kneeling was the worst of our three positions. My legs started aching after only a few minutes. Holding my hands on my legs was awkward. Soon my shoulders started hurting too. Now I appreciated what Paula had to go through when we were eating.

While we were on the floor Cathy allowed us to ask questions. When my turn came I was ready. “How do we know when we are supposed to be in position? Is it only after a Warden tells us?” I asked. My worry was there were more rules we didn’t know about yet.

“The easy answer is, when in doubt, always assume your position. You won’t be punished for doing it on your own, assuming you haven’t been told something else. Otherwise the answer is, you only have to assume position when ordered. But keep in mind they like to see us standing or sitting, and especially kneeling, in this way. Doing it on your own, without being told, proves you take the lessons here seriously.”

Her explanation made sense. It confirmed what I’d learned from my own experience. Those times when I had a man in my life, and when he was willing to act in a dominant way, I loved those moments when I went “above and beyond”, as I liked to call it, not just obeying him but following his direction with enthusiasm, looking for other ways to please him by applying his wishes in any way I could find.

Thankfully Cathy didn’t keep us on the floor for very long. When we were allowed to stand she announced that was the end of the class for today. Along with everyone else I lined up in front of the door, waiting for the Wardens to come for us. Cathy was the last in line.

The First Evening

We were in a line facing the rear wall. Once again the Warden provided us with an opportunity to examine our cell wall in close detail. My mind started wandering, imagining how we might have a quiz on the composition of the paint used in the Center. Aside from the boredom of staring at the wall I didn’t mind because I wasn’t wearing those much too effective handcuffs or the leg chains. The sound of the cell door closing brought me back to the present. That was a good sign; we were going to be in here for a while.

 He hadn’t released us from position yet, so he must still be there, somewhere behind us. I wondered if Wardens ever forgot to let us go. I imagined him walking off, distracted, leaving the three of us standing in front of this wall all night until our legs gave out and we collapsed on the floor. I had the middle position, Paula to my left, Cathy to my right. That might be an advantage. I could fall on top of one of them as long as my legs didn’t give out first.

Less than one day here and I was already terrified of being punished for disobedience. I couldn’t bring myself to even look to either side; I had to stare straight ahead. I was certain the Warden couldn’t see my face, he would never know, but that didn’t make a difference. I was obsessed with standing correctly, not moving, waiting for him to tell us what to do next.

I hoped he would let us sit down soon. I was tired from the long day and needed to rest. My legs were stiff and sore from all the walking and standing. And standing, and standing, the Wardens loved to keep us in position against the walls.

“You have permission to move around the cell after I leave. You will not touch the bars in front. There is a blue line on the floor; do not cross it. While the lights are up you may sit or stand but not lie down. If a Warden passes by you will stand and face the front. When the lights dim you may lie down and are not required to rise when a Warden is present. At that time you may cover yourself with the blanket, but it must remain on the bed. You may not cover your head with the blanket. Turn around.”

On cue all three of us turned around to face him. I did remember to turn clockwise. That was a rule too; always turn in the same direction unless told otherwise. We still had to hold position, staring at him on the other side of the bars. He took his time inspecting us, something Wardens never failed to do, before walking off. Were they really looking for some tiny mistake, or just gawking at the eye candy? Whatever the reason I wasn’t brave enough to find out by acting up and provoking a response. I waited until I heard the outer door shut before breaking position, as did Paula and Cathy.

I looked around at our room for the night. There wasn’t much to it. There were bunk beds, a pair stacked on each side wall, and a toilet in one corner. Each bunk had bedding. At least I wouldn’t be spending the night on the floor. It would take some time to get used to the fact I no longer had a private bedroom and a soft bed to sleep in.

It looked like this was going to be our luxury penthouse suite for the night. About a foot from the cell bars there was a blue line painted on the floor. It didn’t leave us much space. I didn’t see any reason for that line except to make the cell a little more claustrophobic. No touching the bars at the front of our cell, that made me curious. Maybe he left the door unlocked? No, I doubted they ever made that kind of mistake

There wasn’t a mini bar so I’d have to skip that relaxing glass of Napa Valley red for the evening unwind. I didn’t expect to have room service available in the morning, but I was sure we would get a wakeup call. I couldn’t complain about the view, since there weren’t any windows. I didn’t see any chocolates on the pillows either. I smiled, thinking with service like this there’d be no tip for the maid tomorrow. At checkout time I was sure we would be promptly informed when it was time to leave.

“Does anyone want this one?” I patted one of the lower bunks. Both Cathy and Paula declined, so I picked it as my bed for the night. I sat down, careful to keep both feet on the floor. We still couldn’t lie on the bed. I situated myself at a slight angle so I could keep watch on the front, in case a Warden suddenly appeared. Our room might not be much on creature comforts but I didn’t want to lose it by being too slow to stand up.

Cathy sat down on the other bunk. Paula walked back and forth in the little space we had, working the soreness out of her knees. I watched her, regretting I had, even indirectly, been responsible for her kneeling on that hard tile floor. “So, what do you think of your first day in our little school?” Cathy asked.

That wasn’t an easy question to answer. By one standard we had been treated as little more than animals. Oddly, that particular viewpoint really didn’t seem to fit. If it was so bad, why didn’t it bother me? That raised a lot of questions I didn’t want to think about right now.

“I’ve never experienced anything like this before,” I answered, choosing my words carefully. I hadn’t seen any hidden microphones but there was no doubt in my mind the Wardens listened to our conversations. “In one sense I certainly got what I asked for. Whatever happens now, I can’t walk away.”

Paula stopped her pacing. She smiled as she added, “Isn’t it great? Cathy thinks I’m crazy, but I love being in here. My master often has to go on long trips when he’s consulting at a mine. He puts me in the secure area while he’s gone. I look forward to it.”

Cathy shook her head. “Well, I don’t love it in here. Like Paula, my master put me here, as an instructor for the day. I thought I was going to spend the night in bed with him, not sitting in here. If only I had….” She trailed off, remembering the order not to discuss the incident.

I sympathized with Cathy, but Paula’s offhand comment was more intriguing. “Paula, if you don’t mind, could I ask why you like being here so much?” This place was hardly a resort. My rating would be minus four stars on a good day, one star above a North Korean prison camp.

She sat down next to me. “You see the harsh conditions, the domineering Wardens, the way we are treated? I see the same thing, but none of it bothers me in the slightest. I know, and I mean this, I’m at my very best when I’m closely supervised. I don’t have any problems following orders, no matter how strict or difficult they may be. If I’m forced to obey, even better. And I know if I slack off, if I don’t deliver, even the tiniest of mistakes, one of those Wardens will be there to remind me. I don’t want to be punished, I’m not a masochist, but the implied threat is the edge that makes it so exciting. I’m not perfect, you saw that today. It doesn’t stop me from trying.”

I could see how Paula earned her reputation as an extremist. I’d never met anyone like her before. I began to understand why she enjoyed being in the secure area. If she really meant what she told me then this place might just be her idea of a vacation.

“There’s another reason I like being on the secure side,” Paula continued. “Big Mike, my master, he has a very tough, dangerous job. I don’t want to be a distraction when he’s out in the field. He doesn’t have to worry about me while I’m in here. When he’s deep underground in one of those mine galleries, positioning the shoring or checking a vein before calling in the drills, a mistake can injure or kill an entire crew. He needs to focus one hundred percent on what he’s doing, not worrying about me. So here I am, as safe as can be.”

It wasn’t until much later I found out Paula held the record for time spent in the secure area. When Big Mike had been taken hostage by Shining Path guerillas at a mine in Bolivia it had taken over a year to negotiate his release. Paula had been kept in the secure area for the entire time.

“Lenora, what worries you about being here?” Cathy asked that one. “You seem to be preoccupied with something. Is it the fact you can’t leave?”

I hesitated, embarrassed to bring up the subject. How could I put words to it? The evening was upon us, along with nighttime activities. I had to hold my hands together to keep them from shaking. “No, not being held prisoner. Well, it does bother me, but that’s not it. This thing between our legs,” I tapped on the oval chastity belt shield, “when a Warden comes for one of us, opens this belt; I’m scared I won’t be able to please him.” I felt my face turn red.

Paula put her hand over mine. “You can relax if that’s what’s getting to you. You aren’t going to be raped. You’re right that the belt doesn’t keep a Warden out; naturally they have the keys. The belt has a different purpose, to keep us in. Yeah, we can’t even have sex without permission. Far from being assaulted they won’t open you up no matter how much you beg for it.”

That was a relief but the part about begging them to open the belt bothered me. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew at least one reason men liked to control us was the easy access to sex. I admit I had a lot of fun that way too. Stripped and bound, helpless while he took full advantage of me, I enjoyed it just as much as he did. Tied spread-eagled on the bed, open and vulnerable, unable to move while he ran his hands over me; those were fond memories. That didn’t mean I expected to be available for anyone to use. The moment my clothes came off, and I saw that belt I had resigned myself to what might happen later.

Cathy added some more on the subject. “You have to remember, you are the personal property of your master. Think of it as proprietary rights. They don’t like to share. That also means if you start getting that warm feeling for a Warden, well, it ain’t gonna happen. You come on to him and you’ll find yourself spending the night on the floor neatly bundled in a hogtie. Trust me, one night trussed up on a cold concrete floor and you’ll never repeat that mistake.”

I knew what hogtie bondage was from firsthand experience. One time I’d been put in one using rope, hands behind my back and tied to my ankles, with my knees also tied together. Bend my legs to relieve my arms, until the legs got sore. Bend my back to relieve my legs, until the back muscles were on fire. Or the third alternative, getting my arms pulled out of my shoulders. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to spend all night like that. I lasted about fifteen minutes before I was desperately begging to be released.

Knowing I wouldn’t be some stranger’s sex toy for the night was a relief. That did bring up other questions, like why I was singled out to be lured to the Center. If the men here could easily seize anyone off the street as they did to Laura then they could choose from plenty of women who were younger and more attractive than me. I posed that question to Cathy and Paula.

“I can’t give you a definitive answer,” Paula told me. “I do know, at least for the men here, it isn’t about cheerleaders and supermodels. They look for other qualities. Obviously they want submissive women, but they also look for loyalty, a single-minded dedication to our masters, that need in us to be pleasing. I suppose you’d call it the personality of a deeply submissive woman. The degree may vary but that’s what you’ll find in common for all of us in here.”

I didn’t have an opportunity to dig deeper into why they thought I had been brought here. The lights dimmed, which put an end to any further discussion. I climbed under the blanket and pulled it up to my neck. I had survived the first day without being beaten, raped or tortured. How many more days would I be trapped in this place? Wrapping my arms around the pillow I fell into an exhausted sleep.

The Next Day

I woke up to the sound of a loud buzzer. When I opened my eye the lights were up. Paula was climbing down from the bunk above mine, and Cathy was already sitting up. For a moment I was disoriented until I remembered where I was. I quickly threw aside the blanket and sat up too. Our feet had to be on the floor; no staying in bed once it was time to get up.

“The Wardens will be here shortly, so we have to be ready.” That was from Paula. “Make your bed first. It’ll be checked so watch for wrinkles. Once you’re done go to the back wall. When you hear the outer door open you should stand in position facing forward.” She and Cathy were already straightening their bedding.

I didn’t want to get up but I could see from how fast they were working that I didn’t have much time. Reluctantly I got out of bed.

Cathy looked worried. I found out why when she told me, “I don’t mean to criticize but you’re running out of time. We are all subject to punishment if the Wardens aren’t satisfied with how the beds are made. I really don’t want to sleep on the floor for the next two weeks. You might want to move a little faster.”

Still half asleep I got to work. I didn’t care for sleeping on the floor either. Much as I wanted to lie back down and sleep for a few more hours I knew it wasn’t to be. I started on my bed, making sure everything was tucked in, straight and tidy.

I was in position at the back wall when the Wardens showed up. Cathy was right though, I barely made it in time. Both of them looked over my bed to make sure it would pass. The moment they finished the sound of the outer door opening sent all of us scrambling to be in position before the Wardens reached our cell. I’d have to do better next time.

There were two Wardens. They took us out of our cell one at a time, put us in chains and turned us to face the wall. The three of us were also hooked together with one of the gang chains. Cathy was right about the bed too. After they turned us around to leave we still had to wait while one of the Wardens went to each bed to make sure it was neatly made. I didn’t miss the point that the check was done when we could see it, rather than while we faced the wall. It was one more not so subtle reminder the Wardens wouldn’t let any of us get away with laziness.

The beds must have passed inspection because we were taken to the showers to clean up. The chains and the belts came off but we weren’t left alone. I could see the showers but first we had to clean our belts until they shined. With Paula’s help I managed to win approval from the Warden reviewing our work. It took two tries before I was given permission to take a shower.

A glass partition separated our showers from where the Wardens sat, watching us. At first I was self-conscious about taking a shower but it didn’t seem to bother any of the other women. I told myself there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I turned my back to the Wardens and switched on the hot water.

I looked back over my shoulder at the audience. There were four of them, but only two seemed to be paying any attention to us. Maybe we weren’t just putting on a show for them after all. It occurred to me that if they sat through this every day it might be boring after a while. With that in mind I wasn’t quite so preoccupied. The hot water felt good and left me relaxed.

Another day was starting for me in the Center. Could it get much worse? I had to adapt to a vastly different way of life now, a way without any freedom other than the choice of obedience or punishment. I thought about the way Laura had been forcibly taken away by the Wardens. After her performance I had no doubt she was being punished. Whatever her fate I doubted it included a hot, soothing shower before breakfast. I didn’t want the same thing to happen to me.

I finished, dried off and combed my hair. We had to line up with our hands behind our heads, displaying ourselves, while another Warden walked around us. We failed the first time; two women had to comb their hair again. We all had to wait, still standing in display position, until they finished. Satisfied we were presentable the Wardens put our belts back on, one at a time. That was followed by handcuffs behind our backs, and leg irons on our ankles.

Once the group was ready we were hooked together with a gang chain before two Wardens took us to the dining room. We followed the same procedure, one at a time we were led to a table after picking up a food tray. This time there were three other women I didn’t know seated with me.

After eating we were taken to a classroom. We had to kneel, in position but with our legs together. Fortunately there were cushions so we didn’t have to suffer on the hard floor. Once we were all in place a Warden brought in the instructor and took her to the front of the room.

The Warden with her began, “You will give the instructor your undivided attention. She is required to report anyone who breaks position, speaks out of turn, is inattentive or otherwise demonstrates an uncooperative attitude. While in this class you will do whatever she says.” He freed the instructor’s hands and left.

“Good morning. My name is Greta. Today I’m going to explain some of the reasons behind the regulations in the Center. If you understand the why perhaps it will be easier for you to see the need to obey all the rules here, and earn your eventual release.”

That did get my attention. I wanted to know all about anything that would get me out of this place.

She started with a question that applied to me. “Why are you here? Why you, and not someone else?” In bed last night that very question came to me. Why had I been singled out for a trip to what amounted to a maximum security prison? “There’s no one particular reason, other than a man decided to put you in here. Why did he choose you? He’s the only one who knows the answer.

“And that begs the next question, what right does he have to do that?” She paused, walking back and forth in front of us. “You won’t like the answer to that one. It’s because he can, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.” She held up a hand. “Yeah, I’ve heard it many times before. Might doesn’t make right. Except in your case it does, for those of you who were forced to come here.” Was I forced? Tricked maybe, but was that the same thing? I’d have to say yes, since I couldn’t leave.

Once again I heard the same explanation, some man, who I didn’t know, had me brought to the Center. If I knew who he was, why he had done this to me, perhaps it would make some sense. If I could talk to him, find out why he’d chosen me, maybe then I’d have a chance to persuade him to let me go. At the very least I might find out what he wanted.

The instructor continued, “It may not be much of a consolation, but I can give you one explanation as to why you were chosen. All of you share something in common. In the real world, out there,” she waved an arm, “you all show submissive tendencies. You like strong, assertive men. You want them to lead, to make the decisions, especially the hard ones. Even if you don’t admit it, you depend on them. You have a need to please them, to do whatever they want, to compromise rather than argue.” That was true enough. Even now I found I couldn’t help but obey the Wardens. Maybe it was partly out of fear, but I also felt that need within me to earn their approval.

“Now we get to why the Center appears to be such a harsh environment. There are no limits placed on the men here. Think of it as unrestricted male domination matched to female submission. You are free of any outside influences telling you to ignore your instincts and emotions. At the moment it may not seem like good fortune but you have a rare opportunity to explore what it would be like if you let go of all your inhibitions holding you back. Think about it.” She paused.

Being locked up in a remote jail wasn’t my idea of opportunity knocking on the door. I understood her point though. After only one day I could feel how I was slipping into that submissive mindset.

“I’m sure you see this place as some sort of prison. The cells, the chains, your clothes taken away, the guards telling you what to do, the constant threat of punishment, what could be worse? There is a purpose behind all of it, and not what you think.

“Let’s start with the clothes. I know for me it was the single worst part of being in the secure area. Even now it’s difficult to make the transition, although I do it several times a week. Why are they taken away? I doubt if the Wardens object, but it’s not so they can stare at us.” Everyone laughed at that. I wondered about it myself.

“The first reason is the immediate effect it has on us. We have to bare all to men we don’t even know. We become sex objects, forced to display ourselves for the enjoyment of the Wardens.” That was my first reaction, but it wasn’t turning out like I expected even after only one day. The Wardens were too businesslike, almost disinterested. I didn’t see those lingering stares, nor did they grab hold in an overt way.

“You’re not here to be a sex slave. They take away our clothes so we learn to be comfortable in nothing more than our skin. As a man’s property he can order you to strip at any time. You have to be ready to do just that, without hesitation. All your life you’ve been taught to cover yourself. Your stay here will break down that inhibition. It will become easier; just give it time. Remember the rule: you must not conceal yourself from the Wardens. Don’t ever hold up your arms to cover your breasts. I can guarantee you will be disciplined for it.”

There weren’t all that many opportunities to break that particular rule. With my wrists cuffed behind my back it wasn’t even possible. I suppose that was one more technique the Wardens used to condition us to nudity.

The instructor started a new topic. “Why are the Wardens so strict? One reason is to teach us self-discipline. No matter what occurs here in the end it comes down to you as individuals. Are you really willing to hand your life over to a man, to let him make the decisions? I’m not talking about playing some game. I mean a real commitment, to accept the good and the bad, to obey him whether or not you agree. Even if you are furious with him, so angry you want to beat his head in with a frying pan, can you still kneel before him, accept his commands, and do your best to please him?”

That was a tough question. I wanted to say yes, but my own failed history at relationships didn’t back up that answer. And that led me back to the reason I agreed to come here in the first place. Could it make a real difference, being in the Center, without the freedom to say no?

“Right now you have the opportunity to find out if you can make that commitment.” I turned my attention back to what the instructor was saying. “If you can adapt to life in here, truly allow someone else to run your life, then you have your answer.”

The class ended soon after that. I left with a new perspective on why I was here. From the way she explained it the conditions, though unpleasant, were not intended to be brutal or punitive. It was life at the edge, no pretense, where I had no choice but to confront who I was.

The Interview

I’d been in the Center now for weeks at least, maybe a month. There was an old truism, something about doing anything long enough you eventually get used to it. That was happening to me. Obedience became a habit, an automatic reaction whenever a Warden ordered me to do something. I knew when to stand, when to sit, when not to speak, and of course when to face the wall. So when I was pulled out of the dining room one day, by myself, I didn’t know what to expect but I did as I was told.

The Warden brought me to an abrupt halt in front of an unmarked door. Not that it was special since there were only two kinds of doors in the Center. It was either a one piece metal door or a barred gate, but for either one a key was required to open it. We weren’t allowed to open or close doors, only a Warden could do that.

He turned me to face the wall next to the door but he didn’t open it immediately. I was already nervous, since there was no group with me. As usual I had no idea what was happening but it couldn’t be good if I was being singled out. I flashed back to that first day when the Wardens had hauled off Laura after her tirade. I hadn’t seen her after the incident, but since we were forbidden to discuss it I couldn’t ask if anyone else knew about her. Now here I was, separated from the others.

It would be easy for me to vanish too. The Wardens often mixed us up in groups so we never knew if someone was gone or just moved to a different group. I hadn’t seen Cathy since the first night, but I passed Paula once in the dining room. We weren’t at the same table so we couldn’t talk.

“When you enter you will see a table with a computer monitor on it. You will stand in front of the table and wait for further instructions when they appear on the display. Do not speak until given permission. Do you understand?” As usual the Warden delivered his instructions with no emotion in his tone of voice. Orders were a simple statement of fact, which made sense since whatever they wanted they got.

“Yes, sir,” was all I could say. Not being allowed to speak I was limited to direct replies to his questions, keeping my answers as brief as possible. He opened the door and took my arm to lead me into the room. Inside I saw the table and display he had described. Off to the right was a chair, and on the left I just made out a plain door. A quick glance was all I could risk. I knew the rules, look straight ahead. The far wall had a large window into a darkened room. The window was tinted so I couldn’t make out what was in there.

Behind me the Warden removed the handcuffs from my wrists. I still hated those things. I understood why the Wardens used them though. When I wore the cuffs I had little use of my hands or arms. The hinged version is far more restrictive compared to the chain link handcuffs I was familiar with. I was helpless with them on, which is exactly what they wanted.

I really wanted to rub my wrists but I knew better. I kept my arms straight down at my side. “Stand there,” he ordered. Following instructions I went to the table. The display was blank, no commands yet. The door closed behind me. I didn’t turn around but I was sure I was alone.

I thought about pulling the chair over and sitting down. A little voice whispering in my head told me that would be a mistake. If it isn’t allowed, it’s forbidden, and I definitely had not been given permission to sit. This place was getting inside my head. It was obvious we were being subjected to behavior modification techniques. Knowing it was happening to me didn’t make it any less effective.

Words began to appear on the screen. They were large enough that I could read them from where I stood. The contents were unexpected.

You passed the first test. You did not sit in the chair. That was the correct response.

This will be a private interview. It is not being recorded or monitored. What you say here will not be repeated to anyone else.

I gave thanks for my little voice. I felt rather pleased that I had figured out the right answer, even though I didn’t know it was a test. I wasn’t sure what to make of a private interview, but it was a relief that I wasn’t going to face some kind of terrible punishment.

There was someone on the other side of the window. I could make out a silhouette but no features. It must be my mysterious interviewer.

For reasons which must be withheld I will remain anonymous. I will ask questions; you will answer in detail. There is no time limit, so you may take as long as you need to reply, but stay on point. If you later remember something you wish to add to a previous response you may ask for permission to return to a prior subject. You will answer every question. It is in your best interest to reply honestly. If I discover you were misleading or deceitful you will be held to account.

That last part didn’t sound too pleasant; the rest was simple enough. Naturally I was curious as to who was typing, and why he must remain anonymous. I knew it had to be a man, most likely a Warden since he was writing in that same matter of fact, ‘you will do this’ tone.

You may sit in the chair. Place it directly in front of the monitor.

I waited a moment to see if there were any more commands. None appeared, so I reached for the chair, moved it over and sat down. It was on casters so I rolled it up to the table. I sat up straight, legs together, hands in my lap. I still had the leg irons on so I had to keep my ankles slightly apart.

In class we had been warned never to cross our legs, or even our ankles, when sitting. Both feet had to be on the floor at all times. That was a basic rule, along with keeping our breasts exposed. Any attempt to cover up by holding our arms across our chests was a major infraction and punished accordingly. The chain between my ankles was too short for me to easily cross my legs anyway.

This will be a lengthy session. You may relax. There is a toilet on your left. You may ask permission to use it at any time. You are allowed to speak freely but respectfully when answering. You will address me only as ‘sir’.

I guess I’m getting used to sitting the approved way. I had permission to relax, whatever that meant. I decided to remain where I was. It wasn’t uncomfortable, sitting in position. The Wardens must like it too, since they insisted on it.

I was sure he was a Warden now. He liked to use that “p-word”, permission. It was plain to me from the first day the Wardens were men who liked to be in control of women like me. No surprise those were the type of men recruited to be the Wardens here.

We will start with this question. If you were given the opportunity, would you choose to leave the Center today? Explain the reasons for your answer.

He didn’t bother with softball warm up questions. I had quickly come to the conclusion there was no possible way for me to escape. Resigned to the fact I was a prisoner here I hadn’t given leaving much thought after the first few days. Did I want to go? I thought I’d better start talking before he became impatient with me.

“Sir, I don’t have a definite answer to your question. I wish the conditions here were better, but I’m not suffering. The uncertainty is what I struggle with. I don’t know what will happen to me.

“I came here believing what I wanted was to have that last bit of freedom taken from me. No backing out, as I said. The Center has delivered in that respect. I can feel myself slipping into a mindset where I can let go, accept that someone else runs my life now. The obedience, the dependency, it’s very difficult to fight it. I’m not certain I even want to resist.

“I think what I miss most is stability. As it stands I don’t even know what I’ll be doing an hour from now. I may find that feeling of security here eventually. I do know I couldn’t find it on my own, outside the Center.

“The first few days in here I was terrified. Please understand, sir, I find myself in a prison and have no idea if I will ever be released. I was stripped, chained, locked in a jail cell, forced to obey men I didn’t know.

“Since then I’ve come to learn they don’t intend to harm me, as long as I don’t challenge their authority. I have no choice but to trust them. I hope they act in my best interests. To date I’ve had no reason to question that trust. So no, sir, I would not leave.”

Once the words started they seemed to pour out. I hadn’t intended to talk so much. Maybe it was being alone, without anyone, except that figure behind the window, listening in.

Did I really want to stay here? At the start it would have been an easy answer, an emphatic no. The place was growing on me though. Once I learned what the Wardens wanted from me, and how I was expected to behave, I had no problems adapting to my new life. I’d never go as far as Paula, this wasn’t my idea of heaven on earth, but I had to face the reality that I wasn’t bothered by what others would see as horrific living conditions. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t miserable either.

Excellent, I am impressed by your insightful and articulate answer. You are an exceptional woman.

In regards to your comments, I ask that you be patient. I will not explain further. You have my assurance you will not leave the Center at this time.

The next question, does it bother you being forced to wear the chains, the collar, or the chastity belt?

When I read the first line I felt so good I wanted to dance around. Exceptional, articulate, impressed! The new question was an easy one. “No sir, I would not say it bothered me. If given a choice of course I’d take them off, but I understand the necessity of being restrained to maintain overall security. I’ve noticed the number of Wardens is very small compared to the women here. The handcuffs, the leg chains are there to ensure the Wardens have the necessary physical advantage over us at all times, especially when we are in a group.

“If I might add, sir, I’m well aware that men, the ones in charge of us in particular, like to see us in those chains. Every submissive woman knows when she is helpless it makes her very attractive to the man who has her in his power.

“As for the belt, well sir, using the toilet is a time consuming task. This thing reminds me in all sorts of little ways I have it on. When I bend over the belt digs into my waist. I can feel it press against me constantly. Regardless of all the problems, I do understand it must be important for us to wear it. If I were given a choice I would continue to wear the belt until told otherwise.

“It’s an odd feeling, knowing someone else has sexual control over me. It’s scary, but exciting too. And it fits in with being a man’s property.

“One more thing, sir, I confess it’s much easier to wear this belt knowing I can’t remove it. If I had the key I don’t think I would have the willpower to keep it on all day. Same with the collar, I don’t think about wearing it because I can’t take it off.”

It was the collar that drove my thoughts at night, not the belt. I put the belt in the same category as wearing a short dress and high heels, a lot of work but generally worth the effort. The collar was something else. It didn’t restrict me like the belt did, at least physically.

“The collar doesn’t interfere in a physical way at all, sir.” I reached up to touch it. “It does have a mental effect. Every time I see it on me, in a reflection, it’s a reminder of the fact I’m owned. Not just me but everyone else here sees I’m a man’s possession. In all the times when I’ve been bound in some way, even though under a man’s control, I’ve never felt like that. I’m not sure how to explain it. I have this compulsion to please my mysterious master, as if it were my reason for living.”

There was no immediate response on the display. Had I said something disrespectful? Was he sending for the Wardens? What had I done wrong?

You have given me much to think about. Your frank answers provide the insight I need.

I can tell you our next interview will deal with the collar in more detail. No more discussion on that subject today. You should know that, although there are practical reasons for the belt, it also has superb aesthetic qualities.

And you are correct that we do like our women helpless. You in particular are quite attractive when fully restrained.

Aesthetic qualities? In other words we had to wear those belts, and go through all the hassles, because they liked the way it looked. The fact it was appreciated did make it easier to tolerate that thing locked between my legs. I never understood why men found it attractive to see us dressed in steel, even though the stares confirmed it was true. I suspect those inspections by Wardens are often for their enjoyment more than looking for mistakes on our part.

Do you miss your freedom? Do you feel some resentment that you can no longer do as you please?

That question went to the heart of the matter. It should be an easy one to answer; of course I wanted my freedom. Except it wasn’t that simple. It took a moment before I could reply.

“I think about that question every night, sir. At first I would have said yes. Now that I’ve had time to adjust I can’t give a definitive answer. I admit I accepted the offer knowing I would lose some control over my life. What I didn’t expect was to lose it all. My only freedom, if you can call it that, is to choose to obey or be punished if I fail to do as I’m told. I’ve never experienced being dominated, no, make that subjugated to the extent I now live with every day.

“I find I don’t resent losing my freedom, sir. It does worry me that I feel compelled to do my best to encourage more of the same. I can’t explain why. I should be defiant, protesting how I’m treated, demanding my release. Instead I’m eager to follow every rule, to prove I am obedient in how I react to a Warden’s commands.” I stopped, unsure what to add. My feelings about being in here were difficult to sort out. So much had happened, so quickly, I was left dazed by it all.

It is natural for you to be confused. You are in the process of learning that how you have been taught to behave is at odds with your true feelings. Trust your instincts. You are well along the path to the happiness you seek, the life that has eluded you in the past.

This will be the end of the session for today. Stand up, return the chair to its original place and stand in front of the monitor when you finish.

I stood up and went behind the chair. It had to go back to where it was when I came in; his instructions were very specific on that. The floor was carpeted, fortunate for me since I could still see faint marks where the chair had been. I had to maneuver it around to get the casters to line up. I went back to the monitor. “Sir, is there anything else you require?”

One last item, you will not discuss the interview today with anyone. That includes Wardens. If someone asks, you will reply that your master has forbidden any discussion. As your owner my direct orders supersede those of anyone else in the Center. Remain where you are, facing forward, until someone comes for you. You do not have permission to speak.

I stared at the words on the screen. “Your master” and “your owner” leapt out. I so desperately wanted to ask more questions, but that wasn’t going to happen. This was the man behind my collar. That explained all those questions about how I was adjusting to life at the Center.

I watched the shadowy figure behind the glass stand up and walk away. He was gone, and I was left in shock, staring at the casual announcement from my newfound master. Worst of all, I couldn’t even tell anyone. The words on the monitor suddenly disappeared, leaving no evidence of what had just happened.

Cathy had told me the first day I belonged to someone. I suppose I hadn’t really taken her seriously. All that changed in one moment. He was very real, even if I had no idea who he was.

I stared down at the display. Why type his questions, instead of asking me directly? That puzzled me, until I suddenly figured it out. If he spoke to me I’d recognize his voice! That meant it was someone I knew, or at least met recently. There was a very limited pool of men who fit that description. He had to be a Warden.

The door opened behind me. I almost turned around before remembering I had to stay where I was. “Hands behind your back,” the Warden ordered. I’d heard the command so many times it was second nature now. I was still so bewildered I didn’t even notice when he fastened the cuffs on my wrists. When he took hold of my arm and said, “This way,” I followed but it was like being on autopilot.


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