Two office girls, Julie Jo Johansson and Marcie Dumont, embark on a great adventure at Box M Ranch, which offers a BDSM Boot Camp. The advertisements say the camp is for anyone who wants to totally experience true master-slave relationships— from either side.
I originally published this twenty-two-chapter book in 2016. This fourteenth chapter introduces the hierarchy of hair. JJ and the other slut-slaves lose the short hair that has grown back on their heads.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality, or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2026 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed formats is expressly forbidden.
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Chapter Fourteen: A Day of Surprises
The last day of the fourth week started with a surprise. When the sluts ran into the mess hall, there were no bottles on the floor. Instead, the kitchen slave who normally collected their empty bottles pointed to a table close to the kitchen. A chrome-rimmed sign supported by a chrome pole sat in the middle of the table. A white, stiff-paper sign was held in the shiny frame. On it, in large black print, it said, “Boot Camp.”
On the table were small, folded pieces of stiff yellow plastic with large numbers on them. They made the table look somewhat like a crime scene from a television drama except that the numbers were not all the same color. Numbers 1 through 5 were red, while 6 to 10 were blue. The next number was a green 12, followed by a green 18. Then the numbers skipped again to 21 through 27, which were black.
Since those numbers corresponded to the numbers which had been written on the sluts’ left breasts, it was pretty obvious who was supposed to sit where. With each number were three glasses. One was the standard, terrible-tasting, chocolate glop. The second was water. And the third appeared to be a sports drink of some sort. Unlike the penis-nipple bottles, the glasses were not numbered, but out of habit, the sluts all began with the chalky chocolate and then followed that with the clear water. The sports drink had a vague taste of orange, but that taste was more or less overwhelmed by the taste of the electrolytes and minerals.
Another surprise came when the sluts reported to the parade ground for calisthenics. The huge roller assembly was no where to be seen.
Slut jj whispered loudly to slut marcie, “What’s up?”
Slut marcie replied, “I’m sure we will find out soon,” and began the jumping jacks which trustee brenda had just called for.
After exercises were finished, trustee brenda ordered the sluts to Box In and they hurried into their four by five formation with sluts marcie, jj, and julia, as usual, creating the partial fifth row.
“We are running the rim this morning,” trustee brenda shouted out. “And I expect you to make this your fastest and best run yet.” She looked very serious as she added, “It is very important that you be in your best form because people will be very carefully watching us run today.”
Trustee brenda then slapped her ever-present quirt against her palm and said, “As soon as trustee yvonne gets the ponysluts tacked up we will begin.”
She then glared at her fellow trustee as she said, “If trustee yvonne doesn’t take all day, we should be able to finish the required two laps before the noon meal.”
In response, trustee yvonne barked out, “Sluts marcie, jj, and julia, to the stables.”
As they began running toward the stables, she pointed back at the formation and commanded, “Sluts david and molly, with me.” Both sluts joined her as she turned and began jogging toward the stables.
By the time they had reached the stables, the three sluts had already arranged the tack on the long preparation table and were positioning the pull belts on their waists. As trustee yvonne and the other sluts entered, she barked out, “Slut david, do slut jj. Slut molly, you’ve got slut marcie. I’ll take slut julia.”
The division of labor made sense. Slut molly was the least skilled in tack and harness, but slut marcie would need the least help. Slut julia would need the most help, and trustee yvonne would tack her out. Slut david was skilled with harnesses, and slut jj would primarily need guidance to keep her from panicking as they rushed to get tacked out.
Less than ten minutes later, trustee yvonne yelled “Hee-up” and slut marcie began trotting toward the parade grounds. Right behind them, sluts david and molly rode in the chariot as sluts jj and julia clopped along at just less than a gallop.
Trustee yvonne guided slut marcie into their place at the back of the formation while the chariot with sluts david and molly aboard went forward and stopped alongside trustee brenda.
Trustee brenda’s only acknowledgment of the very rapid return of the now tacked out ponysluts was a curt, “Return to formation,” directed at sluts david and molly.
“We are going to be running fast today,” she said loudly and firmly. “But we are ALL going to keep our knees up properly all of the way around both laps.” She glared at the sluts and screamed, “Do you understand that!?”
“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am, trustee brenda,” the sixteen sluts yelled back.
She then turned and slashed down several times with her whip, striking both slut julia and slut jj on the shoulders as she screamed, “Forward! Forward! Run, you sluts!”
The whip cracked several times in the air over their heads as they gained speed. Then trustee brenda composed herself slightly and snapped the whip very accurately just behind slut jj’s ass so that the supersonic tassel whipped up loudly into her ass cheek. She repeated that very painful snap three more times, alternating between the two sluts’ asses. When she stopped, both had bright red welts in the center of each ass cheek.
Both sluts leaned forward to pull more strongly against the traces as trustee brenda continued to scream, “Faster! Faster! Faster!”
When the sluts were all running as fast as they could while still raising their legs in a pony prance, trustee brenda turned to face the squad and changed to alternately screaming, “Hold your speed!” and “Keep those knees up!” After several rounds of screaming, she would again turn forward and put four more welts on her ponysluts’ asses. That pattern repeated itself again and again as they charged around the rim trail.
When the sluts came gallop-prancing back into camp, the battered old pickup truck was sitting on the parade ground with bottles of water and sports drink spread out across its tailgate. Trustee brenda, however, ignored the planned rest stop and whipped sluts jj and julia at a gallop across the parade grounds and back onto the rim trail.
If anything, she kept the sluts at an even faster pace on the second lap. By the time the squad again returned to the parade ground, none of the sluts were raising their legs in the proper prance. Several were wobbling as they ran. Two collapsed as soon as trustee brenda brought them to a halt. Several others lowered themselves to the ground and sat in a daze. Other sluts ran over to the truck and brought back water and sports drinks for those on the ground, while at the same time greedily sucking down the much-needed liquids.
Trustee brenda watched all of this from her chariot. She turned toward trustee yvonne and said curtly, “Deal with this.” She then called out loudly, “All of you who are still standing are dismissed to the barracks to clean up for lunch.”
A few of the squad took off toward the barracks, but most stayed to help those in distress. Trustee yvonne quietly ordered sluts david and molly to take the ponysluts back to the barn and remove their tack.
Several of the sluts noticed that when trustee yvonne did so, she said, “Please take the ponies back to the barn. Take water and sports drink with you so they can have more when their arms are released.”
The contrast between her concern for the sluts and trustee brenda’s obvious disregard for them fanned the anger that was burning within them, but none said anything. When the sluts who had been overcome by the heat and exertion had recovered, the rest of the squad jogged back to the barracks to clean up for lunch. Sluts marcie, jj, julia, david, and molly joined them shortly thereafter.
Lunch followed the new routine introduced at breakfast. Again there were three glasses set up for each slut on the table with the “Boot Camp” sign. The sluts hurriedly drank the three glasses. Normally, the sluts would dash back to the barracks as soon as they had sucked down their glop and water, but today, the ones who had arrived first felt safe remaining at the table while their squad mates finished. The squad then jogged back to the barracks together.
Trustee brenda was waiting for them when they arrived. “We are going back to the hangar today,” she said. “But before we do that, there is something we have to take care of first.”
She was walking up and down in front of the line, pausing in an exaggerated fashion to read the names and slut numbers which were written on the sluts’ left breasts.
“You are not in slut order,” she said sharply. “But since you have not been ordered to be, there will be no punishment.” She then stepped back and ordered loudly, “Box In, single line, in slut order.”
There was a slight pause as the sluts figured out for sure what she meant. Then the sluts began quickly shuffling themselves so that red-slut one, slut julia, was first in line and black-slut twenty-seven, slut david, was last.
“You may have noticed,” trustee brenda continued in very sarcastic voice, “that the conditions for your meals have improved considerably starting today.” She paused and then said loudly, “That’s because you have EARNED that!”
She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward as she said, “But anything that you earn can be taken away from you if you screw up!”
She huffed loudly and returned to walking in front of the sluts.
“You may also have noticed,” she continued, “that most of you have started to regrow the hair on your heads.” She laughed and shook her head slightly as she said, “The hair anywhere else on your body will take a LOT longer to come back. Those chemicals are really effective.” Her voice turned stern again as she said, “But that makes no difference because none of you have earned the right to body hair anyway, and won’t before the end of boot camp.
“Some of you... SOME of you have earned the right to hair on your head.” She shook her head once again and lowered the volume and pitch of her voice, “Some of you have not.”
She smiled and then said, “Sluts one through ten have not earned that right. You will report to the processing shed for haircuts.” Her smile broadened as she said, “Or maybe I should have said hair dissolving, since they are going to use something similar to what was used on the rest of your bodies.” She gave a short laugh that was more like a snort before saying, “Don’t worry, it isn’t quite as effective as the cunt cleaner. ... but you won’t have to worry about combing your hair until well after the end of boot camp.”
Leaning forward she screamed, “That was an order, sluts! Sluts one through ten to the processing shed to get your domes polished! Now!”
The five red sluts and five blue sluts scrambled off. The exit to the processing shed was directly across from their barracks, but getting to the entrance required running to the end of the street and coming back up the next one.
“Now,” trustee brenda continued, tapping her quirt on her hand and glaring at the sluts. “What to do with the green sluts?”
She stood in front of slut molly, who was green eighteen, and slut darlene, who was green twelve. “Do you think you have earned the right to have hair?” she asked.
“Consider very carefully before you answer,” she said slowly. “From this point out, the squad will be divided by who has hair and who does not.” She looked over at the back of the processing shed where the other sluts had been sent. “The red and blue sluts are obviously submissives,” she said derisively. “They do not deserve hair on their heads... do they?”
She reached out and lifted slut darlene’s chin so that they were looking eye to eye. “What about you, slut darlene? Are you dominant enough to deserve hair? Or are you supposed to be a bald-headed submissive slut?”
The conflict within slut darlene was obvious. She kept looking over at the black-numbered sluts. She knew that she wasn’t really one of them, but at the same time, she knew that she wasn’t really like any of the first ten sluts. Her body was almost quivering with indecision as she leaned forward as if to run for the processing shed and then rocked back to stand firm.
Finally she said shakily, “I deserve to have hair.” She swallowed hard and added, “...for now.”
Trustee brenda chuckled deeply and said very softly, “Someday someone will take great pleasure in breaking you, my little innocent not-quite-a-submissive.” Only sluts darlene and molly heard her. Any reply they might have had was drowned out by the trustee asking loudly, “And what about you, slut molly? Hair or no hair?”
“Ma’am, this slut deserves to have hair, Ma’am, trustee brenda,” she answered. Her answer in proper form only accentuated the fact that slut darlene had answered incorrectly and trustee brenda had not challenged it.
As trustee brenda turned away, she said softly to herself, “And someone will enjoy even more breaking you, my not-so-innocent, not-quite-a-master.”
She spun back around and yelled loudly, “Sluts dismissed to the hangar! Two columns! Jog in step! Wait in a single line outside the hangar until I arrive with the other sluts!”
With that, she turned again and walked into the back door of the processing shed. Inside, the ten sluts were standing in a long line with a thick layer of a rather odiferous cream smeared over their heads. The cream covering extended from the back of their necks to their eyebrow ridges. Each had their eyes clamped tightly shut against the acrid fumes.
As trustee brenda entered, trustee yvonne called out, “Two minutes left.”
“OK,” she answered. “Send them through the showers when the time is up. Remember to tell them to keep their eyes tightly closed.” Then, in a much quieter voice, she said, “And remember that to rinse that crap off their heads it is cold water only.”
“Yes brenda,” trustee yvonne answered. She met trustee brenda’s glare at the lack of use of her title but said nothing else.
A few minutes later, trustee yvonne said to the sluts, “Turn to your left and put your right hand on the right shoulder of the slut in front of you. Continue to keep your eyes tightly closed. I will lead you over to the entrance to the showers and then wait for you outside.”
She then took slut julia’s hand and led her, and the other nine sluts, over to the entrance to the shower maze. She again reminded them to keep their eyes tightly closed. She did not tell them that there would be no hot water as they were rinsed off.
The scream of the sluts as the icy water struck their skin was loud enough to be heard by the rest of the squad who were waiting at the hangar. Shortly after the screams stopped, the ten sluts, led by trustee yvonne, came trotting up. The cream, whatever it was, had been very effective. There was not even a hint of stubble on the sluts’ heads. Their eyebrows were also gone, causing them to look like shiny-headed mannequins waiting for the latest fashions to be put on them in some department store.
“Two abreast,” trustee yvonne ordered. “In slut number order.”
The sluts formed the proper columns and followed trustee yvonne into the hangar.
Commander Mueller, the training Masters and Mistresses, as well as the Masters-in-Training class awaited them. Also waiting for them inside the hangar were nineteen ponyslut carts and nineteen sets of black ponyslut tack, including boots and bits.
“You will notice,” began Commander Mueller, “that there is now a rather apparent divide within your boot camp squad.” He gestured with his hands as he said, “Nine of you have hair. Ten of you do not.” He began to walk in front of the double column of sluts. “That is not an accidental division.
“Ten of you,” he said pointing to the bald sluts, “are submissive sluts.”
Continuing to point at the ten bald submissives, he said, “Most of you are sexual sluts with almost uncontrollable urges. Some of you are even painsluts who crave the whip and paddle. That is what you are, and what you have released from within yourself in this first segment of boot camp.” He straightened and said quietly, but forcefully, “From this point on you will be considered potential slut-slaves in training.”
Gesturing toward those with hair, he said, “You others apparently are dominant— or at least, more dominant. You are eligible at this point to become trustees in training.”
He gave them all a very artificial smile, “That really doesn’t mean very much except that you get to wear a white bottom similar to the black bottoms worn by the trustees. Everyone, except the slut-slaves, will continue to call you slut. They— and only they— will call you Sir or Ma’am.”
He held up his hand as if making an important point and continued, “The white bottoms do mean, however, that you are moving forward toward possibly entering the Masters-in-Training program.”
He laughed, “It also means that you get to ride in the cart, while the slut-slave acts as your pony for the next four weeks.” He coughed and added, “... that is, after today.”
He pointed to the waiting carts and tack. “This afternoon, ALL of you will experience what it feels like to be a ponyslut. Trustees brenda and yvonne and the rest of the Masters-in-Training class will tack you out properly and then take you out on the rim trail. You will have blinders on so you absolutely must obey your drivers’ directions. Regardless of how dominant you are, you are forced to obey the commands of your driver. You cannot see clearly enough to direct yourself on the trail, and I would hate to lose one of you to an accident.”
He coughed slightly as if to close off that train of thought and then said, “I understand that trustees brenda and yvonne have been training you to prance properly. I expect that you will keep the proper step regardless of what speed you are commanded to go.”
He turned to those who would be driving the carts and said, “I also expect nothing faster than double time. I hold you each responsible for that.”
Turning back to the boot camp squad, he said “Come now and stand next to one of the carts. Whoever is assigned to that cart will tack you out and hitch you to the cart. I will be leading you all around the rim in my personal chariot.”
As he spoke, a chariot drew up next to him. It was pulled by two stunningly beautiful ponygirls who were tacked out in white. Their headdress feathers were at least two feet tall. Two silver chains ran from thick silver collars around their necks to their breasts where they attached to silver rings which pierced each nipple. A smaller chain then hung down from the same ring. On the end of the smaller chain was a bright, silver bell. Evidently each of the bells was a slightly different size because the note they made as the ponygirls pranced into place was different for each bell. Smaller bells hung as earrings from the girl’s ears, and a slightly larger bell hung in front between their legs. It was difficult to tell for sure, but it appeared to be hanging from a chain which attached to the hood of their clit, or perhaps even the clit itself.
They stood dutifully next to their master. Another difference in their tack, apart from the color, was the fact that their arms were not restrained behind them. Instead they were wearing hoof gloves and were holding their arms bent at the elbows with the forearms forward, much as a dog walking on its hind legs would do. The hangar lights reflected slightly off the bright silver-plated horseshoes. They also glinted off the silver glitter which was dusted over the slaves’ naked bodies.
Slut marcie ended up standing next to slut gerard as one of the Mistresses from the Masters-in-Training class tacked her up. Mistress Susann, herself, was putting slut gerard into his tack. Slut marcie watched with interest as the crotch strap was put into place. Obviously there was no front dildo. Instead there was a properly-sized opening so that slut gerard’s penis stuck through the strap. His balls, however, did not come through but were instead pressed back tightly against his groin.
She found herself wondering which would be hurt worse if they were forced to pull with the back connector on the pull belt, a woman pulling with her cunt, or a man crushing his balls. She decided that she would never be able to know what it felt like for a man and silently hoped that she never found out how painful it was for a woman if the side clips were not used.
It took almost half an hour to tack out the entire squad. One of the sluts— a green-numbered slut— panicked slightly when her arms were pulled back to be restrained. The blinders were already in place for slut marcie so she could not turn to see who it was, but she thought that the voice sounded like slut darlene. The Master tacking out the panicked slut spoke calmly to her for several moments, and things quieted down.
When all of the sluts were tacked out and properly in their traces, Commander Mueller made a forward motion with his arm and shouted firmly, “Forward! Dressage speed!”
All of the sluts started forward in the strange, prancing, slow-motion dressage step which they had been taught. The elaborately tacked out ponygirls pulling the Commander’s chariot, however, made it look very graceful. Their motions were exactly synchronized, and when their hooves hit, there was only a single clop as the horseshoes struck the ground.
When they reached the edge of the parade ground, the Commander called out, “Walking speed,” and his ponygirls sped up to what would be a normal walking rate.
At the far end of the parade ground, he called out, “Trot speed!” and his ponygirls sped up to what would be a slow jog while still maintaining the high-knee prance.
Finally, just as the column reached the entrance to the rim trail, he grabbed the hand grip on the front of his chariot and yelled, “Double time!”
His ponies broke into a measured run. They were faster than jogging, but not quite as fast as a full run. Evidently, a full run would be considered galloping. Their knees were not quite as high, but still higher than any of the boot camp sluts could maintain.
The carts were in reverse slut number order. That meant that slut david was leading, followed by slut gerard and then slut marcie. The blinders prevented her from seeing for sure exactly where they were. In fact, the blinder restricted her view to the back of the cart in front of her, and, of course, a view of slut gerard’s backside as he trotted along.
“If you ain’t the lead dog,” she thought to herself, “the view never changes. She then smiled as she thought that the view wasn’t all that bad. Slut gerard, despite being much older than the rest of the class, had a very nice butt and very well-developed legs.
She could hear some of the class panting as they trotted along the trail. She had been pulling trustee yvonne for the past week, so she was used to the effort and to the weight of the hoof boots. Even still, sweat was pouring from her body when she completed the first lap and returned to the parade grounds.
Commander Mueller stood in his chariot and addressed the group. “I will leave you at this point. After you complete one more lap, return to the hangar where the sluts will be de-tacked and I will have some announcements for the boot camp squad.”
As soon as he had finished what he had to say, he turned and ordered his chariot ponies to take him back to the hangar. The other drivers, meanwhile, were getting bottles of water or sports drink from the pickup truck which had appeared on the corner of the parade grounds. They released the bits of the ponies and made sure that each was properly hydrated. Several of the slut-slaves took the opportunity to relieve themselves on the ground. Slut marcie had not intended to do so, but the sound— and smell— of the other girls peeing on the grass caused her bladder to express its need for release.
“What the hell,” she said quietly as she spread her legs and released her piss onto the ground. “It’s not like I’m standing in the middle of the town square.”
A few moments later, Mistress Susann, who was driving slut gerard, moved to the front of the column and called out, “Trot speed.” With her now leading, the carts once again sped around the rim trail.
The trot speed with Mistress Susann leading was slightly slower than it had been with Commander Mueller in the lead. That wasn’t because she was being kind to the sluts. It was purely and simply that on this second lap, slut gerard could not maintain the same pace that the well-trained ponygirls who had been pulling the commander had kept.
Slut marcie was now following slut david. As she ran, she noticed two things. One was that she was apparently nowhere near as tired as the others. And two was that slut david had a very nice ass.
The column did not stop at the parade ground when it completed the second lap. Instead, they continued at a trot pace back to the hangar where they pulled back into the same positions they had been in when the sluts were tacked out. Bottles of water and sports drink sat on the tack table. Some of the drivers noted that their ponies were in distress and quickly released the bits so that the sluts could guzzle the needed liquid. Others, with stronger ponies, removed the tack and then let the sluts drink for themselves. Slut marcie was one of those who waited until all tack was removed before quenching her thirst.
“Box in,” yelled trustee brenda. “Single line, slut order.”
The sluts now stood in a long line in front of Commander Mueller. He walked slowly down the line. “Dominants,” he said loudly, “you now have a decision to make. You are eligible to enter the trustee-in-training program, but do you desire that?” He laughed slightly and said, “Just because you do not desire to be a slut or a slave does not mean that you desire to be a Master. There are many who are drawn to the flame who desire neither to control that flame nor to be consumed by it, but rather to just warm themselves from a distance.”
Pointing to the shiny-headed sluts he said, “These sluts obviously crave to be consumed by the flame. What about you? Do you truly desire, deep within your hearts, to control the flame? If so, I want you to take one step forward. If not, please remain in place.”
Eight sluts stepped forward. Slut darlene remained standing in place. She was looking down at the ground and crying softly.
“There is no shame to your decision, slut darlene,” Commander Mueller said. “It takes a strong person to recognize what is in their heart.” Pointing again to the bald-headed sluts he said, “It takes strength to recognize and accept that you are at heart a submissive.” Pointing to those who had stepped forward he said, “It takes strength to recognize and accept the responsibilities of being a Master.” Stopping directly in front of slut darlene he added calmly, “And it takes no less strength to recognize that you are neither.
“We are what we are,” he said more loudly as he turned and walked down the line of those who had claimed their dominance. “When you return to your barracks following an early evening meal,” he explained, “you will find two white bottoms on your bunk. They are a type of soft, artificial leather that breathes slightly to prevent problems with sweat, but they still need to be cleaned. They are to be changed every day. Leave the used one on the table next to the showers when you clean up for the evening meal. Change into the fresh one before you go to the mess hall.”
He chuckled slightly. “I would advise,” he continued, “continuing to sleep naked just to air things out, but that choice is yours. The used bottom will be returned to your bunk sometime during the next day.”
He held up an example of the white bikini-like bottom. “If you look closely at the edge right next to the Velcro fasteners on the sides, you will see a small number. That is how the laundry slaves know where to return this.”
He smiled and continued, “I would advise checking the number each night before you put it on to make sure it is yours.” Holding up the small piece of leather a little higher, he said, “There isn’t a whole lot to this, but they do come in several different sizes, and the ones intended for males are, for obvious reasons, built slightly differently than those intended for females.”
The sluts laughed softly at his humor. One of the sluts began and all seven quickly joined as they said, “Sir, thank you, Sir, Commander Mueller.”
He smiled back at them and then stepped back slightly to address the whole squad. “Tonight, you have a special treat. Master Edward will explain.”
He stepped aside and Master Edward stepped forward.
“Tonight,” he began in his very precise British way of speaking, “is movie night. Following your evening meal, you will return here to the hangar.”
Pointing down to the far wall he said, “There is a large screen which rolls down on that wall. Because of the terrible acoustics here in the hangar, you will each be given a small set of wireless headphones so that you can fully appreciate the dialogue and so forth.”
He paused, waiting for the sluts’ eyes and attention to return to him before continuing. “This movie is especially chosen for this point in your boot camp. This particular film is a bit old, but it is chosen because of certain unique qualities to the story. As you watch this film, you are to ask yourself with which of the characters do you identify. When the film is over, you will fill out a short questionnaire and turn it in before your leave. Commander Mueller and the supervisory Masters and Mistresses will review your answers as part of their evaluations.”
He stood for several moments calmly looking out at the line of sluts before asking, “Do you understand that?”
“Sir, yes, Sir, Master Edward,” the sluts replied.
“Then,” he said, “you are dismissed to your barracks to prepare for your evening meal.”
The sluts turned and jogged out of the hangar, remaining in their column. Slut marcie was the third to reach the barracks and sped through the showers and then over to her bunk to check if the trustee-in-training bottoms were waiting for her.
Sitting on her bed, neatly folded into a small square, were two pieces of white leather. Picking them up, slut marcie noted that there was a Velcro flap on each side at the hip, similar to the way a pair of stripper pants would be made. She held the top of the back against her rear and pulled the flap through her crotch. It took a couple of tries to get the technique, but if she held the rough end from the back in place and pulled the fuzzy end from the front over to her hip, she was able to press the Velcro in place. Repeating that on the opposite side was much easier with the bottom held in place on one side. After securing the second side, she went back to the first side and reset the tab in a better position.
By the time she was finished, slut jj was standing next to her. “Ma’am,” slut jj began, “are you ready to go to the mess hall, Ma’am, trustee marcie?”
“I’m not a trustee yet,” slut marcie replied. “I guess you will have to leave off the title and name or call me ‘slut marcie.’”
“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am, slut marcie,” slut jj said with a smile. Then she looked down slightly and added, “But I would rather call you Mistress.”
“Someday, jj,” slut marcie responded. “Someday. But for now we had best run for the mess hall before they take our glasses off the table.”
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END OF CHAPTER
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The true rulers of this world, the credit card companies, have made it almost impossible to sell books with true BDSM themes. Erotic publishers will soon be a thing of the past. So I have pulled all of my books from the one publisher that I had left, and have decided to share them with my on-line followers.