Perfect Slave by Becky Bell

monotony of the day was the arrival of the woman in the black dress. Putting a concertinaed make-up case on the bed she made-up Andrea’s face, attended to her hair and varnished her finger and toenails, and applied rouge to her nipples. The first time this happened Andrea was convinced it was a prelude to being taken to see Hawksworth, but it wasn’t. The door remained locked, and no one else came.
    At night, though she had no idea at what time, Laurie came to the room, bound her hands in the leather cuffs and secured them to the metal ring. All without a word. The door was locked again and the lights turned out.
    The second day followed exactly the same pattern. An hour before Laurie entered her room and bound her hands above her head again, and left without comment.
    Andrea had a list of questions she wanted to ask her, but dare not say a word. She knew she was being tested and punished. With nothing to do but sit and think about what had happened she was sure that the master’s neglect was a much worse punishment than being bound and whipped. Making her watch Julia giving him pleasure was a punishment too.
    She supposed she’d imagined that she and the master would be alone together, and that his ‘training’ would be on a one-to-one basis. But now she came to think about it, she realised she should never have made that assumption. Whipping Julia in front of her had been a clear indication that there were other women, other slaves, at the manor. She was just one of many.
    In fact that idea did not depress her. She knew, given the chance, that she could show Charles Hawksworth an absolute devotion to submission and obedience as great as any of the other girls. She could be the perfect slave. All she wanted now was another chance to prove herself to her master.
    Over and over again she kicked herself for not realising that the way she’d been bound on that first night was a trick, a way of getting her own urges to betray her. If only she had thought about it, if only she’d realised what was going on she might have replaced Julia in the master’s bedroom and spent the night with him.
    Instead her overweening sexuality, the shock of being in a world where all her deepest fantasies where living, breathing realities, had been too much for her to cope with. If she were honest with herself, she guessed that even if Laurie had told her the truth her intense arousal would have made it impossible not to have an orgasm anyway. Too much had happened to provoke and arouse her, the fact that she’d been blindfolded, turning her mind inwards, further increasing the effect of the bondage and the tight corset.
    Fortunately, in Hawksworth’s bedroom she’d just managed to hang on, but it had been a very close thing. If he hadn’t given her permission she would have been totally unable to stop herself from coming. Hawksworth tapped into a current in her sexuality that ran deeper than even she had realised.
    And then there was the effect Julia had had on her. She could still feel the way the girl’s fingers had invaded her body. She’d never had any sort of sexual experience with a woman before, and had never cherished notions of having one. There was no denying that the woman’s touch amplified and accelerated everything she felt, but she put it down to the overwhelming excitement of the moment rather than any deep lesbian impulse on her part.
    The position of her arms pulled her pectorals taut and made her shoulders ache. She had tossed and turned herself into every position to get comfortable, but the pain would not go away. And in the mood of depression she was now in, she welcomed it.
    â€˜Comfortable?’
    The door of the narrow room opened, flooding it with light from the corridor. Laurie marched into the room carrying a nylon holdall. She put the light on and closed the door.
    â€˜I asked you a question,’ she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
    â€˜No, Ms