Mistress Penny's First Day

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This Untold Story takes place prior to the events of Mistress Kathy's Slave Catalog.

You may have heard rumors of a faraway place where your dreams of bondage and domination can be made into reality. Those rumors are true.

Just be careful what you wish for.

At Mistress Kathy's Academy of Domination and Submission, professional mistresses and their slaves are waiting to help you.

As you might imagine, slaves are harder to recruit than mistresses, but Mistress Kathy has overcome this problem. She says the secret to recruiting a slave is to recruit his mistress first. After all, if you offer her the right incentives, she'll be happy to share her toys.

"Please try to understand," explained Penny, finishing her eye liner as she peered into the mirror. "This is how it's going to be from now on."

Isaac sat on the edge of the bed. Watching was all he could do since his collar was still tethered to the bedpost. "I thought this was going to be like the last time," he said, trying not to sound freaked out. "You said we were coming back to the island for the advanced course in bondage and domination."

"But this is advanced. This is way advanced."

"You said it would only be for two weeks."

"I already explained that," she said, pursing her lips in the mirror to see if her lipstick would smudge. "I was lying. I needed a premise to bring you here. Otherwise you would never have agreed to come back. Now that you have, your consent isn't needed. Our slave contract is binding here."

Isaac glanced at the framed document hanging on the wall of their new bedroom. The document competed for attention with the scenic paintings and photographs hanging around it, but the contract occupied the most prominent position in case he needed reminding of who was going to be in charge.

Penny was 22, but looked younger. She worried she might look too young. She wanted her coworkers at the office to take her seriously, but that would be hard if she looked like a teenager in a grown-up costume. She pulled her hair back into a hasty bun to make herself look older.

"Do you like me with my hair up?" She put on her smart-girl glasses and stared at Isaac. "It's not too pretentious?"

"Not if you're going for the librarian look." He tried to sound nonchalant about it, but her sexy "office girl" look combined with her unblinkingly judgmental stare gave him an erection his costume did little to conceal. He turned away in what he hoped was a casual way.

"You're right, it's too much," she said, turning toward the mirror. She pulled her bun apart and let her dark hair flow over her snug black office dress.

He crossed his legs. Inside his little outfit, his swelling shaft had little room to expand, so it was forced to bend at an impossible angle. His leather mittens prevented him from correcting it, and he wondered if other slaves had this problem.

"Do all your co-workers bring their slaves to work with them?" he asked, again trying to be casual.

"Not usually, but this is my first day." She disappeared into the bathroom to fuss with her hair some more. "I'm the newbie. It'll be a couple of weeks before I'm allowed to leave you unattended, so you'll have to stick close to me for a while. Then you'll be assigned duties of your own."

"And will I have to be tied up to do those duties?" He looked down at the leather mittens on his hands. With his elbows fastened behind him, he couldn't even bring his hands together—except behind his back.

"That depends on you. If they like you, they can be lenient. If they don't, they can be strict. But if they REALLY like you—it can go either way. The trick is—you want them to like you, but not too much."

"Your advice isn't helping."

"Don't pretend you didn't want to come back," she said from the other room. "I know you better than that."

Did she really? She knew how to turn him on; that was for sure. But aside from that, he began to wonder if they really knew each other at all.

"Remember our first visit?" she reminisced. "You let me do things to you that we would never do at home. You must have enjoyed it, or you wouldn't have agreed to come back."

"But that was role-playing. I didn't agree to this." He fumbled with the clasp on his leash with his useless hands, but it would not open for him.

"You agreed that I know what's best for both of us." She knew he couldn't argue that fact because it had been put in writing. "We were getting nowhere at our old jobs. Here at least I have a reasonable chance of promotion."

He knew it was a risk to provoke her, but he couldn't help himself. She had gone too far. "You didn't have to lie to me. You didn't have the right to decide for both of us."

She stepped out of the bathroom. "I had every right."

"Yeah? Who made you God?"

She straightened the framed contract. "You did, sweetie." She stepped back and admired it as though it were the prettiest thing about the room. "Just admit that you're enjoying it. I totally saw your boner."

She approached him and unfastened his leash from the bedpost.

He stood up. She wrapped her hands around his new shiny black brief. The garment that barely contained him was fastened with snap-ties on either side which had yet to be field tested.

Her busy hands found his folded shaft—and straightened it for his comfort. He relaxed a bit, and her hands made their way to his backside where they lingered and squeezed.

He felt obliged to hug her back—or to try—but his bound elbows wouldn't let him.

They heard a jingling sound outside.

"They're here." Penny picked up her purse. "They said they'd send a coach to pick us up."

The "coach" was actually a sulky drawn by a pair of topless pony girls. Their high boots had been designed to resemble hooves. Bit gags and blinders adorned their faces, and armbinders held back their arms. Both ponies gazed downward, avoiding eye contact with anyone, including each other.

Tiny bells had been fiendishly attached to their nipples. They jingled no matter what they did.

The driver wore riding gear including a cap, gloves and those peculiar puffy pants that only equestrian riders wear. Aside from the puffs, the suit hugged her curves in ways he couldn't ignore.

"Good morning, Mistress Penny," she said brightly, stepping out of the sulky. "I hope you slept well." She smiled at Isaac. "Or at least enough."

"I did, thanks for asking," Penny replied, handing Isaac's leash to the driver before stepping into the sulky.

To Isaac's disappointment, the sulky had no room for him to ride inside. The driver clasped the end of Isaac's leash to the back end of the sulky. "Will he be needing a gag? I have an extra one under the seat."

"Not today, I think," replied Mistress Penny. "He knows his place."

"Suit yourself," said the driver, whose expression showed she thought it a bad idea.

The driver spanked him once—just for the fun of it. Penny did nothing to object. The dominant women who lived within the Citadel rarely carried money, so allowing a driver to cop a feel from a slave was one of the customary ways of tipping for service.

The driver sat next to Penny and urged the sulky forward. Isaac was forced to trot along behind them as the ponies jingled into motion.

"Thanks for picking us up," said Penny.

"No thanks are necessary," said the driver. "Navigating the avenues of the Citadel can be confusing at first, so we always send out a driver to make sure you're not late for your first day."

The driver set a brisk pace. Isaac felt sorry for the pony girls who had to pull the weight of the sulky. Even though all he had to do was follow, it was an awkward run with his elbows bound, and his bare feet were sore and tender by the time they reached their destination.

It was a large building with a long marble staircase in front. Penny and the driver both stepped out. Penny took a moment to admire the sweating ponies.

"They look so athletic," she said. "May I touch them?"

"Of course," said the driver.

Penny cupped both breasts of the nearest pony, who looked away out of shame. "They're so big, but they feel natural!"

"We don't use silicone," boasted the driver. "We have a secret blend of vitamins and hormones that provokes an awesome growth response. When we put it in their food, it makes their tits nice and perky."

"Really? I'm jealous."

"It's still in development. Once we know it's safe for mistresses, you can have some to sample." The driver undid the clasp on Isaac's tether. "May I?" asked the driver.

"Of course," said Penny. "Your service was very helpful."

The driver grabbed Isaac with both hands and kissed him on the lips. He felt he shouldn't allow her to be so familiar with him while his mistress was watching, so he tried to protest, but the driver simply thrust her tongue inside when he opened his mouth.

Penny finally tapped the driver's shoulder. "That's enough, I think."

The driver reluctantly let him go and handed the leash to Penny. "You will find Mistress Margo, your supervisor, in the second floor office. She's expecting you."

The sulky pulled away, leaving Penny alone with her slave. She raised a warning finger. "Remember what I told you. You don't want them to like you too much." She pointed downward. "Speaking of perky."

The top of his shaft was protruding guiltily over the top of his waistband.

Penny glared in judgment at him before discreetly tucking him back inside. "Behave yourself," she said before leading him by the leash up the marble stairs. "Don't embarrass me on my first day."

They climbed many stairs and walked through confusing, winding corridors on their way to the office. They encountered a number of mistresses, some dressed in vinyl, some in office wear, and some in almost nothing.

There were no masters to be seen, only mistresses—but they accompanied slaves of both sexes (according to their owners' appetites). The slaves said nothing as they passed. Their keepers silently stared at Isaac with lusty approval.

They found the office. Half a dozen women working at their computers suddenly stopped what they were doing to gawk at him.

Although Isaac would have described their clothing as "office attire," he'd have to admit the term meant something different here than in other offices. Necklines were lower, skirts shorter, boots higher, fabrics stretchier, and midriffs much more exposed here than in any other workplace he'd seen. The reasons were obvious. Each woman flattered her outfit as if it were her job to model it.

"You must be the new girl," said a cheery brunette at the nearest desk. "I'm Tonya." She wore a very short black skirt and a loose-fitting leopard-print blouse that was sheer enough for Isaac to see every detail of her lacy bra. He looked her in the eye, fearing her judgment if he looked anywhere else.

"Hello, I'm Penny," said his mistress. "This is my slave, Isaac."

"Hello, Isaac," said every woman in the office.

The effect of this attention was unnerving. He glanced down to be sure his dick was still covered.

"He's very handsome," said Tonya. "His little outfit suits him. He has just the right ass for it." She slid her hand around him to assess its firmness. "I must say it's bold of you to let him walk around without a gag."

"Really?" asked Penny. "Is that uncommon?"

"Some mistresses allow it—not that I ever would. Your slave must be very well-behaved for you to have such confidence in him."

"Some slaves need their mouths," said Penny. Isaac wished she hadn't made it sound dirty.

"Yes, some do," agreed Tonya, "but not all the time. And he doesn't have any official duties yet."

"We could give him a job as a greeter," said a smiling blonde who was suddenly at his side. "Imagine someone like him hanging from the ceiling in the lobby. He could announce visitors and make them feel at home."

"You and your suspension fetish, Liza!" teased a curly-haired brunette who joined them. "We don't get that many visitors here. A slave like him could be put to better use licking envelopes for me where I send out our mailers. I can make room for him at my desk."

"Laura, we remember the last time you had an envelope licker," said a dark-haired girl who appeared behind Isaac. "You kept him chained under your desk, and we all know what he was licking. We should keep him in the lunch room where any of us can enjoy him."

"Shouldn't you all be at your desks?" said a stern blonde in a tight-fitting corset, "You know, where your work is done?"

"Mistress Margo," said Tonya in surprise. "This is the new girl—Mistress Penny and her slave, Isaac. I was just about to bring them to your office."

"Yes, I'm sure you were," said Margo, noticing the crowd that had gathered around Isaac. She turned toward his mistress and extended her hand. "Hello, Penny. I hope you live up to your resume."

"I'll do my best."

"Your referrals were very impressive. We could use more talent like you here." Margo glared at the other women who were fawning over Isaac. "If only your slave weren't so disruptive to the workplace. Why haven't you gagged him yet?"

"But I—" said Isaac, and then stopped. He guessed that nothing good could come from protesting. "I'm sorry for being disruptive, Mistress."

"See? He's far too chatty," concluded Mistress Margo. "Keep that in check. Right now I need to introduce you to some of the managers in our other departments."

The other women stepped aside to allow Margo to walk completely around Isaac as she appraised the new slave.

"Leave your slave here," she told Penny at last. "We don't want him to disrupt the other offices the way he has this one. I'm sure Tonya won't mind looking after him for a bit?"

"Not at all. There's a lot I can show him." Tonya carelessly tugged the neckline of her blouse and smiled.

Before he realized it, Penny had gone with Mistress Margo, and he was suddenly in the care of half a dozen strangers he had only just met.

"He's much more bashful than the last one," said Liza. "The last one was so angry all the time, we couldn't loosen his chains for a minute—not even for a quick fuck break."

"I liked the angry one," said Laura. "He gave me the cutest looks when I bit him. What happened to him anyway?"

"He was reassigned to a student."

"The tourists always get the good ones!"

"I like this one better. Doesn't he look bigger?"

"I don't know about bigger, but he certainly has stamina. He's been stiff since he got here."

"He's definitely hornier—but bigger too."

"Nuh-uh, the costume just makes him look bigger."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Tonya, losing her patience with the other girls. "Margo put us in charge of him, so let's just look." With a quick tug, his tiny outfit was suddenly dangling from her left hand, and his shaft was gripped firmly in her right.

"Ooooooo, he is bigger!" said Liza as others pushed their way in front of her, forcing her to peer between the others.

"And freshly shaved," confirmed Tonya. "Bare as a peeled banana and twice a smooth."

Isaac didn't know if it was safe for him to speak, but he remembered what his mistress had told him about letting these women like him too much. "Ladies," he said apologetically as he watched his little outfit changing hands among the women, "I'm going to need that back."

"Need what?" asked Tonya.

"You don't need anything. Today's casual Friday."

"And this is a good look for you."

"It's Tuesday," muttered Isaac, not that anything he said mattered.

"Ladies, I'm sure he appreciates your attention, but as usual, you're scaring the shit out of the new guy," reminded Tonya. "I actually do have things I need to show him around the office, but let's leave his little slave suit over here for now."

As Tonya suggested, Liza hung his little garment carefully on the hook underneath the big office clock.

Tonya continued, "When I'm done introducing him to the other slaves, I'll chain him in the lunch room for your convenience."

The other women dispersed only reluctantly, and only after each had been allowed an introductory grope of some part of him—to which he was in no position to object. Laura (the one who liked to bite) pinched his scrotum to make him jump.

Tonya led Isaac down the hall. He thought he was going to receive instructions in some office activity, but when Tonya reached a passage where no one seemed to be looking, she suddenly opened a supply closet door and pushed him inside.

"These are our office supplies," said Tonya quickly, closing the door. "No one will look for us here."

Isaac knew this diversion could only end one way. "But my mistress," he said. "She'll find us. Penny will come looking for me."

"No, she won't," said Tonya as she recklessly pushed reams of paper off of the table. "Your mistress is an idiot." Ignoring the mess of paper on the floor, she smiled and patted her hand on the now-cleared table where she intended for him to sit.

Was this a test? Of his loyalty to his mistress? Or of his obedience to the office? Both choices were dangerous.

Isaac felt he had to obey. He sat where he was told.

For the first time, he had a good look at the contents of the room. There were filing cabinets and stacks of paper, toner and envelopes—but these items were dwarfed by the chains, ropes, straps and shackles hanging from the walls. The room wasn't just used for storage. It was a miniature dungeon.

"These are your office supplies?" he asked incredulously.

"Office supplies can mean so many things," said Tonya, reaching for a long chain that hung from a pulley on the ceiling. "Pencil sharpeners. Staplers." She attached the chain to his collar. "You."

She pulled the other end of the chain until it was tight, but she didn't stop pulling. The chain tugged him from the table by the collar, and he was forced to stand.

As she fastened the chain, she added, "Your mistress is a bit thick, isn't she?"

"Don't say that," said Isaac before realizing he probably shouldn't.

Tonya gave him a sudden scowl and pulled the chain tighter. "Toes," she said. "Stand on your toes."

He did, and what little slack appeared in the chain was quickly pulled upward. "Good," she complemented before securing the chain again. "You'll be less apt to try to kick this way."

"What I meant to ask is," he said, trying to take back what he had said even as he struggled to regain his footing, "why did you say that about my mistress?"

Tonya stood closer and placed her arms around his tense form. Her hands began a long exploration of the dimples and crevices on the back of his body. "She doesn't know she's being played," she confided in him. "She really thinks she was hired for her secretarial skills."

"She wasn't?"

"Of course not." Tonya had removed none of her own clothing, but didn't hesitate to press her covered body against his naked flesh.

Isaac reacted with a deep intake of breath. He made a meaningless effort to resist with his mittened hands, but he soon gave up, realizing he was only encouraging her to hold him tighter.

"But she's good at her job," continued Isaac. He knew he should let this topic go, but it seemed important.

"I'm sure she's adequate. She wouldn't be here if she didn't have at least minimal clerical skill. But secretaries are so easy to find." She turned away from him, showing no empathy or awareness of the discomfort he suffered from standing on his toes.

She selected a length of chain that had been carefully coiled on the floor. She held half the coil in each hand and threw the left half of the chain at his feet. The other half she started looping around his quivering ankles, tightening it with each pass, forcing his ankles tightly against each other. Then she started wrapping the chain upward—around his calves, knees and thighs.