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 final chapter wraps everythuing up and shows the happily ever after that JJ and Marcie have found at Box M Ranch.
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 Twenty-Two: Graduation Day
When slut marcie arrived at the mess hall for breakfast, her standard penis bottles were not set up against the wall. Trustee yvonne pointed toward the table where the other sluts were gathering and said, “Boot Camp ends on graduation day. That means you are technically no longer slut zero.”
She looked around. “That isn’t really official until after graduation, but trustee brenda is over at the performance track double-checking everything, so I’m in charge, and I’m saying you eat with the rest of the squad this morning.”
Scrambled eggs and sausage never tasted so good. There was even a cup of coffee to cherish as she finished off her toast.
When they had all finished, trustee yvonne said, “Back to the barracks for body inspection, then you have free time until nine when we go over to the stables.”
As they walked out of the mess hall, slut jj whispered to slut marcie, “What is body inspection?”
“What do you think?” slut marcie replied. “They probably want to wax our heads or something like that.”
Slut marcie had intended it as a joke, but sometimes jokes become reality. “This is body wax,” trustee brenda said as they entered the barracks. “It is not a hair removal product. It is intended to make your skin glossy.”
She started throwing tubes of the stuff at the sluts and said loudly, “All of you will use it over your entire bodies.” She almost screamed, “And I mean your ENTIRE bodies. That means you will have to do each other.”
She held up one of the tubes and said, “Notice that it says it has a twenty minute setting time. That means that once you put it on, you will have to stand with your legs apart and your arms out from your sides for at least twenty minutes.”
She then motioned at trustee yvonne, “Before you put anything on, trustee yvonne will inspect your bodies for any dirt or spurious hairs. Your skin has to be pristine before this stuff is put on.”
She tossed the tube she was holding to slut powers and walked down to her room, leaving trustee yvonne standing in front of the sluts.
“OK,” she said. “Let’s do this in slut number order. That means I’ll start with slut julia.”
The inspection was relatively simple. Each slut stood in front of trustee yvonne with their arms and legs spread out so she could inspect their fronts. Then they turned around so she could check their backs. That finished, they bent over for a final inspection between their legs.
For most of the sluts, trustee yvonne just repeated, “OK, OK, OK,” as they assumed the various positions. The only exception was slut pamela. “Nipple hair,” trustee yvonne said as she held slut pamela’s nipple and used a set of tweezers to pull five or six hairs from each nipple.
“Either you didn’t apply things properly,” said trustee yvonne, “or you have some very aggressive nipple hairs.”
Slut pamela looked down at the ground and said, “Ma’am, it runs in my family, Ma’am. All of my sisters got teased about it a lot in gym class, trustee yvonne.” Her face turned very red as she said, “So did I.”
“Try to keep it in proper form,” trustee yvonne said softly. “A couple applications of the permanent cream will take care of that if you want.”
Slut pamela smiled up at her and turned around so she could inspect her back.
When all of the sluts had been inspected, trustee yvonne said, “Make sure you cover all skin areas, even the eyelids. As long as your eyes are closed, a thin coating on the eyelids won’t cause a problem.” She grimaced and said, “It won’t actually damage your eyes, but it will burn like hell if you get any in them.”
From the expression on her face, it was apparent she was speaking from experience.
A short while later, sixteen sluts were standing like naked scarecrows alongside their beds.
“Remember,” trustee yvonne said, “at least twenty minutes.” She pointed up at the clock on the wall and said, “I would give it a half-hour before you lie down.”
Several of the sluts groaned, but all checked the time. It was seven forty-five. At eight-fifteen they would be free to lie down until nine, when they had to go over to the stables.
A few minutes before nine, trustees brenda and yvonne came out of their rooms. “Everyone hit the latrines,” trustee brenda barked out. “I don’t want any of you sluts pissing on the performance track.”
All of the sluts went over to the bathroom area and squatted over the urinal troughs. Soon the sound— and smell— of piss filled the area. When all had finished, trustee brenda yelled “Stables!” and all of the sluts, followed closely by trustee yvonne scurried over to the stables to tack up.
“Double-check your tack,” she instructed the drivers. “Don’t just look at the clips, pull on them and make sure they are secure.”
All of the drivers did as she had instructed. A muttered cry of “Shit!” indicated that in at least one case, a loose clip had been discovered.
“We are going to walk over to the performance track,” trustee yvonne said. “I am more concerned about not getting you sweaty than I am about proper form at this point.” She then gave a flip of the reins to indicate that slut julie should start out. As usual, sluts marcie and jj followed, pulling the chariot and the other carts fell in line behind them.
Trustee brenda was waiting anxiously alongside the grandstands when they arrived. As she stepped into the chariot, she told trustee yvonne, “This is going to get me into the Masters-in-Training program. I have more than enough money now, so I don’t have to work as a trustee anymore. I will be a full Mistress while you are still sniveling around with your tits hanging out.”
Trustee yvonne said nothing, but instead guided slut julia around so that she was in her follow-up position at the end of the column.
Sluts marcie and jj were now at the front of the column. They could see the backstretch of the racetrack and a portion of the area behind the reviewing stand. Large flags flew from tall flagpoles evenly spaced around the track. The poles were tall enough that they were at the same height as the flags over the grandstand. There were two types of flags. One was dark blue with the Box M emblem in white. The others were white with the Box M emblem in blue. In the center of the infield, a very large American flag also waved in the breeze.
Slut jj watched the flags flutter on their poles and suddenly imagined herself at the entrance to the Coliseum in Rome. She could see herself as a naked slave pulling her Mistress in a Roman procession.
“Focus,” she heard through the fog. Trustee brenda’s voice repeated, “Focus, slut. You almost started forward without my command.”
Slut jj nodded in reply. Her tall feathered headdress accentuated her response.
Both she and slut marcie could hear others assembling behind them, but neither could turn far enough to see what— or who— it was. Trustee yvonne had told them that the ceremony would begin at ten so they knew that they didn’t have much longer to wait.
A short while later the sound of a bugle playing a traditional call to post split the air. “Get ready,” trustee brenda hissed loudly as she tightened the slack in the reins.
Slut marcie looked up at the huge speakers which hung above the grandstand, but the familiar march tune came instead from the center of the infield as a live band began playing. A sharp snap on slut marcie’s ass indicated that it was time to start. She paused just a second so that she would begin in step with the music and then she and slut jj began pulling the chariot into the raceway.
Neither slut could see what was going on behind them, but once they reached turn four and curved back toward the grandstand, it was possible to see that several other chariots and carts had followed them onto the track. Behind the first chariot, a squad of trustees-in-training marched in formation. Behind the second marched the Masters and Mistresses-in-training. They were followed by a series of ornate carts and chariots guided by full Masters or Mistresses and pulled by naked slaves. One of the Mistresses had coated her matched pair of slaves in a mixture of blue and red glitter so that they almost appeared to be plastic toy figures pulling her chariot.
At the very end of the procession came the large, elaborate chariot holding Commander Mueller. He was standing, waving at the crowd while a male trustee— or perhaps a Master-in-Training— guided his team.
Behind them marched a squad of security people led by Sarge. They each had a weapon shouldered as they marched, but something about the way they held them made slut marcie think they were not prop rifles just for show.
As slut marcie passed the last chair which had been placed on the track, she anticipated trustee brenda’s pull on the reins and began making the hard right turn. She let trustee brenda control the wide left turn which followed as they looped around on the infield and came up right next to the reviewing stand. The rest of the Boot Camp squad filed in alongside them. The trustees-in-training turned after the chairs and went up into the grandstands. The chariot they had been following curved around on the infield and lined up after the last cart of the Boot Camp squad. The Masters-in-Training group followed the same procedure.
The first of the Master’s chariots paused slightly just beyond the chairs, and the Master stepped out and seated himself in the second row of chairs behind several well-dressed men and women who were obviously Masters or Mistresses in their own right. A slave or attendant quickly stepped into the chariot and guided the ponyslaves around the infield until they were standing about six feet away from the other side of the reviewing stand. The other carts and chariots also stopped as the Masters and Mistresses got out and walked to their places in the seats on the track.
When Commander Mueller’s chariot stopped in front of the reviewing stand, he stood and waved to the crowd in the grandstands before stepping out and walking up onto the reviewing stand. As the commander’s chariot, guided by his driver, made the loop in the infield to come in right alongside the reviewing stand, Sarge led his squad of security men behind the chairs where they stood against the front wall of the grandstand. Sarge shouted something, and with a loud clump, they slammed the butt of their rifles on the ground and stood at parade rest.
Commander Mueller stood at the podium at the front of the reviewing stand and looked out at the crowd for what seemed like a very long time. He then looked down at the Boot Camp squad, which was to his left, and smiled. “We are here today,” he began, “for more than a graduation ceremony.”
He looked up into the crowd and continued, “This is a changing of the guard.” He paused and sighed. “I have been thinking of this for several years,” he said, “but recently I became aware that I had allowed myself to become careless in my old age.” He chuckled and said more softly, “Or maybe I just allowed myself to become old.
“In any case,” he continued, “I have decided to sell Box M Enterprises to a group called ‘The Mansion Club.’ It will be run by a high-ranking Master and Mistress in that organization. Allow me to introduce Mistress Evelyn Brown. She will explain everything.”
While he was speaking, his chariot had once again drawn up in front of the reviewing stand. Commander Mueller stepped down from the stand and stepped up into his chariot. As the chariot pulled slowly past the front of the grandstand and headed back toward the exit, Commander Mueller faced directly ahead, his body held almost at attention.
Mistress Evelyn Brown waited until his chariot had exited the field before she began to speak. “Commander Mueller contacted us a little over eight months ago,” she said firmly, “because he was afraid that someone was kidnapping people from this camp.”
She paused and looked up into the stands. “We sent a special undercover investigator to Box M.”
She shook her head slightly and said, “It turned out to be even worse than Commander Mueller had feared. The kidnappers were a part of the Box M organization— specifically the office staff, led by the Box M accountant and attorney.”
Most of the people seated in the back row of seats on the track suddenly got up to leave. The security people standing behind them, however, pushed them back into their seats and used zip ties to bind their arms to their chairs and hold them in place.
“We were able,” Mistress Brown continued, “to track down all of the missing women who had been sold into involuntary slavery. All but three of them have been returned to their families— or will be shortly. Those three have chosen voluntarily to remain in their current positions, but as contract voluntary slaves.”
She turned to the Boot Camp squad and said, “Trustee yvonne, your sister is currently being treated at a hospital in England. She will soon be able to travel.”
Turning back to the crowd, she said, “It was while trying to track down the kidnapped women that we found that we were not the only organization investigating this problem. Around the same time that Commander Mueller contacted us, Sarge contacted a sister group of ours called The Society. They also sent a special investigator to the camp.”
She looked up at Sarge and smiled. “Unfortunately,” she continued, Master Raymond— known here as slut raymond— was severely injured in an accident the first week of boot camp. The Society could not help with our investigation here, but we knew then that we could trust Sarge and his security detail, which has been augmented by Mansion Club security for our gathering today.”
Slut marcie felt the reins flip and heard trustee brenda whisper loudly, “Forward.” Slut jj started to move, but slut marcie shook her head and pulled back in the traces. The whip slapped repeatedly against slut marcie’s back and ass, but she stood firm.
Mistress Evelyn continued, “One of the sluts in the current boot camp was able to figure out what was going on, and how the sluts were being kidnapped. By a stroke of luck, she was also able to recognize our own special investigator and inform him what was happening.”
She turned slightly and motioned to someone else on the reviewing stand. “Let me introduce my business partner, Master Gerard Fittsgivens, whom you knew as slut gerard.”
As Master Fittsgivens stepped up to the microphone, sluts marcie and jj felt the chariot rock as trustee brenda jumped from the back and began running toward the exit on Turn One. None of the security people appeared to have noticed her escape until slut marcie yelled out loudly, “Forward! Gallop!” and began pulling the chariot forward. Slut jj didn’t know what was happening, and couldn’t really understand what slut marcie had tried to say, but she somehow knew that slut marcie, her Mistress-to-be, was calling for her to run, and so she did.
A lone security guard, carrying an automatic weapon of some sort, ran onto the racetrack from the exit trying to block trustee brenda’s escape. He dropped to one knee as he yelled, “Halt or I WILL shoot.”
Trustee brenda was still carrying her whip, and her snap was very accurate. The end of the whip wrapped tightly around the man’s throat, instantly cutting off all breath. The weapon dropped from his hands as he grasped at the leather choking him. She pulled back hard with the whip and pulled him into the dust.
Without breaking stride, she dropped the whip and grabbed up the weapon as she continued on toward the exit. Security men and women were now pouring onto the track from the seating area, but trustee brenda had too great of a head start for them to catch her.
Sluts marcie and jj, however, had started sooner, were better trained for running, and had more motivation. Just before she reached the exit, trustee brenda heard the clomp of hoof beats behind her.
She turned and brought the weapon up to fire, but slut marcie was ready for her. The two sluts pulled slightly to the right and the large shield took the hits as the weapon fired. The trustee only got off a dozen or so shots before the shield slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. As soon as the chariot wheels passed over on either side of her, slut marcie yelled, “ ’ard ‘eft!” and forced the chariot around in a tight turn.
Trustee brenda was just starting to push herself up from the ground when slut marcie clomped a heavy hoof boot onto her ass, pinning her to the ground. When the trustee tried to reach the gun, another hoof— this time slut jj’s— held her arm in place. A moment later, Sarge himself charged up and pressed his knee into trustee brenda’s back to hold her down securely while he zip-tied her arms together behind her back.
“Release slut zero and bring her here,” Master Fittsgivens said from the reviewing stand. Sarge quickly freed slut marcie from the trace and released her bit harness. He untied her hoof gloves and she quickly dropped them to the ground. He then nodded toward the reviewing stand.
“Please come up,” Mistress Evelyn added when slut marcie stood on the track in front of the reviewing stand.
Once slut marcie had clomped up the steps and was standing next to him, Master Gerard said loudly, “This young woman is the one who figured out how the girls were being taken to be sold into slavery. We had to maintain secrecy until we could rescue the kidnapped sluts, so I could not reveal myself. And the only way she could secretly notify Commander Mueller for me that it was time to act was to intentionally allow herself to be flogged and reduced to the rank of slut zero.”
He turned Marcie so she was facing the crowd before saying firmly, “Only a natural Mistress would do such a thing. Marcie Dumont will need a lot more training, but if she desires, she will be accepted today as a Mistress in the Mansion Club.”
The crowd applauded and cheered wildly then many began laughing. Directly in front of the reviewing stand, slut jj was kneeling on the ground. Sarge had evidently released her also from the chariot traces and removed her hoof gloves and headdress. Her forehead was against the dirt of the track and her arms were stretched all the way out in front of her.
“It would appear,” Master Gerard said with a chuckle, “that I am not the only one who recognizes that Miss Dumont is a natural Mistress.”
The crowd again began cheering as Mistress Marcie clomped down from the reviewing stand and reached down to take slut jj’s hand. Then, with jj walking the proper three steps behind her, they walked to the exit.
Epilogue
Mistress Marcie Dumont sat behind her mahogany desk looking out the second-story window of her office at an old, beat-up white bus as it rumbled slowly into the center of the compound. Another Boot Camp was about to begin. She saw Commander Gerard walking across the dusty road so that he would be in the proper position to greet them.
A quiet buzzing and a small flashing light brought her attention to the intercom unit on the corner of her desk. “Yes,” she said as she depressed the talk button.
“Mistress Marcie, your humble slave has that report printed out for you,” a voice said from the small speaker.
“Thank you, JJ,” she replied. “The board meeting is in twenty minutes. Please bring the four paper copies to the conference room and make sure that the projection copy is loaded into the system.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the voice answered.
Marcie reviewed a few of the details she would need for the meeting and then got up from behind her desk. She opened the door on the tall, thin cabinet against the corner of the wall behind her so that she could inspect herself in the mirror which was mounted on the inside of the door. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she brushed a small fluff of lint off the shoulder of her black silk blouse. Although nothing was visible, she also brushed her fingers across the Box M logo over her left breast. She smiled as she patted the logo.
She placed her hands on her hips and moved them downward to smooth the short black leather skirt which marked her as a full Mistress. Her hands then moved to her head, which slightly reflected the light which was streaming in through the window. Her hair had never regrown. Despite Sarge’s warning, trustee brenda had evidently substituted the permanent mixture when her hair was removed in the infirmary.
She plucked a tissue from the box on the shelf which ran across the back wall between the two corner cabinets and wiped the chrome headpiece which she characteristically wore when at the camp. She had wigs for when she was out among “civilians,” but in the camp she retained the chrome covering which had been forced on her as slut zero.
Once a visiting Master had asked her why she did not discard that symbol of degradation, and she answered firmly, “It is a symbol of degradation only if I allow it to be. Nothing outside of me changes who I am inside. This is a symbol of what I can endure and what I can overcome. My hair was taken away from me by a despicable slut who thought she could be that which she was not, but her actions did not make me a slave any more than her actions would ever be able to make her a Mistress.”
She had not realized that the Mansion Club Council of Masters was walking behind them until the loud round of cheers and applause startled them. From that day on, many within the Mansion Club referred to her as “The Chrome Mistress.”
She walked the short distance down the hallway to the conference room. A naked, bald slave stood at the doorway holding several copies of a thick report. The silver collar around the slave’s neck said simply, “Slave JJ.” Mistress Marcie had insisted that the in***********ion go against tradition and use capital letters for Slave JJ’s name. “She is much more than a slave,” she had said, “except for me.” Those who knew, understood.
“Thank you, JJ,” Mistress Marcie said as she took the reports.
“The files are loaded for your presentation, Mistress,” Slave JJ replied.
Mistress Marcie again said “Thank You” as she entered the conference room. It was packed. Normally there was plenty of room for the Box M Board to meet, but the Mansion Club Council of Masters was also present, so extra chairs had been arranged wherever there was space.
After the normal round of introductions and small talk, Mistress Evelyn stood and said, “Masters and Mistresses, we are assembled to hear the final report concerning the white slavery ring which was operating out of this camp. You have all received electronic versions of this report.” She gave a short laugh and added, “... and yes, there are paper copies for those of you who do not embrace— or possibly do not trust— modern technology.”
Master Gerard, who had just entered the room, then said, “I think that Mistress Marcie should be the one to summarize this report as she not only prepared the report, she was the one who made this report possible.”
He motioned with his hand and Mistress Marcie stood. “Masters and Mistresses,” Marcie began, “you can be confident that all persons who were involved in this incident have been rooted out and dealt with. The low-level secretaries and clerks agreed to plead guilty to conspiracy to defraud and accepted appropriate prison sentences. So did the other trustees who were involved. Their court records indicate only that they were part of a complicated scheme to embezzle millions of dollars from Box M Leadership Incorporated.”
A page of the report appeared on the huge monitor, which covered the end wall of the conference room. “That is not totally untrue,” she said as she used a laser pointer to draw everyone’s attention to a column of figures. “The actual amount missing was approximately three-quarters of a million dollars.”
Shining her pointer at another column, she said, “The amount recovered was over $600,000. The other $170,000 had already been spent on entertainment and other non-recoverable items.”
The image on the screen changed to what looked like mug shots of two females. “The Chief Financial Officer, Helen Parker, and the Chief Legal Officer, Nancy Carter, refused to cooperate in any way with the investigation. In fact, they threatened that if we attempted to prosecute, they would spread as many lies as possible about Box M Camp and The Mansion Club. They said they would tell everyone that non-consensual slavery was the rule, rather than the extreme exception, in both organizations.”
The slide changed again. This time, it showed a newspaper article. The headline was “Two Executives of Box M Enterprises Die in Tragic Car Crash.” There was a picture of a twisted pile of smoking wreckage lying at the base of a steep cliff. The pictures accompanying the article were much better images of the two women.
Mistress Marcie looked out at the assembled Masters and Mistresses and said firmly, “Our forensic accounting investigation discovered that the CFO and CLO had not only embezzled from Box M; they had also significantly cheated several of their clients to whom they had sold slaves.”
She clicked the remote so that the monitor now showed the white Box M logo on a blue background. “We decided to forgo prosecution and instead turned them over to the clients they had cheated. I believe that Ms. Carter is now known as slave liar, and Ms. Parker is known as slave thief.”
She set down the remote. “There was one other conspirator,” she said with a smile. “Former trustee brenda feared that others involved in this scheme would blame her for things unraveling and would seek retribution. She begged for protection— specifically for my protection.”
She gave another quick smile and said firmly, “I granted her request. She now cleans the stables here at Box M. She lives there permanently in one of the stalls. Her name is slave slutzero. Her steel collar is permanent, as is the removal of all body hair. Carved deeply into the steel is her name and the words, “Under the Protection of My Mistress, Marcie Dumont.”
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END OF STORY
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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.