Dressing

Mark dressed Nikki as if she were a doll or an infant.

He stood her in the middle of the room, her feet hip width apart, her arms hanging at her sides. He stroked her face, gently. “Stay still, girl. Let me see you and prepare you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes communicating her acceptance of his instructions. She was his slave. He had trained her, helped her, taught her, and was now preparing her. She would be willing to follow him and do anything for him. He knew it, and used that knowledge to make her a better slave.

Mark ran his hands up and down her body. Touched her breasts, lifting them, caressing them, making the nipples darken and stand out. “Mmmmm, your breasts are so lovely. I love how reactive they are. Lucky girl.” It was almost as though he was murmuring to himself, but she suspected he was also trying to psych her up for this date, like a coach preparing the team. He knew she responded to his desire. Her confidence grew, she felt more beautiful and more capable, and that made her more beautiful and more capable.

Now his hands were lifting her arms, inspecting her underarms. Then traveling over her hips, caressing the curve of her buttocks. She shifted her weight slightly, pushing her hips out and rotating her femur bones (without moving her feet, she knew better than that!) to open her sex slightly, wanting his touch.

“Steady now girl. We’ll get there.” He was talking in a soothing voice, but he had noticed her desire. Was controlling it, containing it. She was embarrassed, a blush coming to her skin.

“There, there, girl. It’s okay. I like your desire. It’s beautiful. You just need to learn to control yourself a little more.” But now he was crouched down in front of her, she could see the top of his head, and his hands were stroking her legs, verifying that there was no residual stickiness from the wax. Tran had done a perfect job, of course, so Nikki’s legs were smooth, silky, and not at all sticky.

Mark’s face was perfectly level with her pussy. She could feel his breath on her as he slid his had up the inside of her leg. She struggled not to moan out loud, but she felt as if every cell in her body was reaching for him wanting his touch. She felt the surge of wetness as she imagined it. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, as his hand got steadily closer. He paused right before touching. Again, the moan almost escaped from Nikki’s mouth. She could feel an undulation pass through her body, even as she struggled to hold herself steady.

“Yes, girl. Feel it. Fight it. Control it. You want the touch, but you know you must wait for me to decide to give it, it is not for you to ask for it. Good girl.” Mark’s tone was pedagogic, he was, once again, teaching her a lesson.

Even as he praised her for controlling herself, his hand was getting closer. She could almost feel it touching. And then…. Ohhhhhhh…. He did touch. She felt the warmth of his finger sliding between her labia. Felt him entering the warmth and slipping over the slick coating. Felt him caressing her swollen sex.

“Ohhhh…” Her breath came out hard. She didn’t intend to make any noise, but she couldn’t help it. It felt so intensely good to have him touch. Now his fingers were sliding in, two of them. And rotating. She struggled to hold herself steady, to not push her hips forward to slide back and forth on his hand.

“Steady, girl. Breathe deep. We’re not going there now.” Mark’s voice was soothing. Nikki followed his instructions, inhaling deeply into her lungs. Feeling the desire subside, slightly, now like a burning ember. Ready, waiting. But not flaming.

He pulled his fingers out and held them to his nose. “Oh, lovely, girl. You smell delicious, sweet. No sign of that slave boy from this morning. Did Tran clean you out good? You have permission to speak, I want to hear all about it.”

“Yes, Sir. She did.” Nikki hesitated. What did Mark want her to tell him?

“Come on girl. I want details. Tell me what she used, how she used it, how it felt. I want 30 seconds of description, starting now… And talk fast.”

“She cleaned me with a squeeze bottle and a warm solution of vinegar and water. I saw her preparing it. She had me stand with one foot on either side of the toilet, my knees bent, and then she inserted the nozzle of the bottle.” Nikki glanced at the second hand of the clock on the wall. Realized that she had only been talking for about 10 seconds. 20 more to go! “She squeezed to release the water into me. The water was very warm, but she didn’t use too much pressure. I could feel it enter and flow back out of me, splashing into the toilet. She had her other hand on my shoulder to steady me, and it was as warm as the water. But after she was done I felt nice and clean, almost as though I had been polished inside.” That was 28 seconds. She hoped it was enough!

“Good description girl. And I’m glad she used the vinegar. Keep the pH the same, don’t want to be growing any yeast!”

Now Mark was spreading the cheeks of her ass. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but she was pretty sure it was going to be uncomfortable. Sure enough, he pressed his finger, slick from her pussy, against her anus. “I’m going to check your rectum, see if we need to clean you out again. Relax into my finger, girl. Push.”

Nikki could feel her sphincter muscle. She was getting better at being able to control it, to feel it give way, to allow penetration there. But it was still difficult. She felt him pushing, pressure increasing, and then felt him slide in, with a feeling of relief. She felt the slick warmth, felt full of him, in a way she wasn’t really used to feeling. It felt good.

“Still nice and clean there, girl. You are ready.” Mark was obviously pleased and his pleasure made Nikki beam. Oh, how she loved making him happy. And so simple to do, just being clean inside and out. Being happy to be examined, exposed, penetrated. She was sharing herself, every part of herself. And he was appreciating it. It felt good. Great even.

Mark went and washed his hands, and then she could hear him moving around behind her. He returned with a pair of stockings and pair of incredibly high heels. “Luckily Charles is tall. We can really show you off to advantage.” Mark knelt down and took Nikki’s right foot in his hand, lifting it and forcing her to balance on just her left. He caressed the arch, ran his hands over her foot. Amazing. She felt another surge of wetness in her crotch.

Mark wasn’t paying attention to her arousal. He was concentrated on rolling the stocking up; sliding it over her foot and then smoothing it all the way up. It was one of those thigh high stockings with a lace band. On the inside of the band were silicon strips that would hold the stocking up on its own, although if could also be attached using a garter belt. She could feel the seam running up the back, and could imagine how it looked, a dark line flowing from her foot up the back of her leg.

Once the stocking was in place, he slid her foot into the shoe. Must have been a 4 inch heel, with a flat piece of leather that went up over her arch, and straps that went down on either side of it. Sort of like a t-strap, but with a few extra straps. Mark worked quickly, putting on the second stocking and shoe as well.

The shoes were surprisingly comfortable. Well it shouldn’t have been too surprising, it had been made for her. She remembered that the mold of her foot had been taken and several styles selected. So the curve of the footbed fit her arch perfectly. The toe box was the perfect shape, and the ankle strap perfectly balanced.

The high heels held her shockingly erect, in order to maintain her balance with her feet that high, she had to push out her chest, suck in her stomach, hold her buttocks tight, and slide her shoulder blades down her back. She looked like she was ready to walk down the catwalk in a fashion show! And she was acutely aware of the fact that the stockings ended at her upper thighs, a strip of creamy flesh visible at the top of them. Made her all the much more aware of her naked, hairless, sex.

“I’m going to add a garter belt. Just to be confident you don’t lose a stocking someplace when you can’t pull it back up. Your hands may not be your own…” Mark winked at her. The garter belt was a wide style, that compressed her waist slightly and held her stomach in even more. Mark laced it behind her, pushing against her hip with one hand while he pulled the laces with the other. She felt her breasts shake. But when he was done, she felt held, contained, attached.

“Oh, you look wonderful, girl.” Mark stepped back, obviously happy with his work.

Then he went to fetch something else. He came back with a leather box. He stood in front of Nikki.

“Look, girl. I want you to see this.” He opened the box. Nestled in a velvet indentation was the most beautiful thing Nikki had ever seen. It was a gold collar. Two solid vertical bands of gold made the bottom and top of the circumference, and between them was a filigreed latticework of gold, inset with gems, that sparkled like a crown. Each gem was set into its setting in the modern style, making the whole piece look contemporary, even though it somehow looked regal as well. It was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

Mark slipped the collar out of it’s nest and, placing the box down, stepped to Nikki and placed it around her neck. It closed with a definitive “snap” sound.

“You can’t remove it yourself, my dear. It is very cleverly designed so that you have to have your thumbs on the top and fingers on the bottom in a particular configuration to make it impossible for the wearer to remove, but easy enough for somebody else.” Mark getting out a second box. “Come look at yourself in the mirror. I want you to see this transformation.”

Mark brought her over to the mirror on the wall. She looked at herself. She saw her elegant hair do, and the beautiful collar. She looked like royalty. The collar could have been worn by anyone, it just looked like a lovely piece of jewelry.

Then Mark opened the other box, and Nikki saw a gold chain with a leather leash handle. It was clearly and distinctively a leash. No question. He reached up and attached it to a small loop at the front of the collar. He had said transformation, and he wasn’t kidding. Suddenly this jewelry, that looked like it could be worn by anyone, was clearly a slave collar. The leash chain hung down between her breasts.

Nikki’s eyes widened. How was she going to walk through the hotel lobby like this. She took a sharp breath, in shock. Her position and status came back to her. What if she saw somebody she knew? What if they saw somebody Charles knew? How was this going to work? The questions were racing though her mind.

“Don’t worry little girl. I will bring you in on the leash. If we see somebody you know, well, that doesn’t matter. They probably won’t recognize you. But even if they do, you won’t be permitted to speak to them. And you are a slave now. Later, Charles will remove the leash to walk you through the lobby, just in case.” As usual, Mark had anticipated her questions, making her feel, yet again, that he could read her mind. “For now, just use it to remember what you are.”

How could Nikki forget? She was wearing nothing but a slave collar, stockings, and the highest pair of high heels she had ever worn!

“I invited Tammy over to do your make-up. I think she’s waiting outside.” Mark strode over to the door, opened it, and sure enough, there was Tammy. Tammy was another slave, she’d been at the facility longer than Nikki, but she’d been a make-up artist before, and she was often in demand for special events such as this one. She was a little younger than Nikki, maybe 25 or 26, full figured, with rosy skin and blonde hair. Nikki could tell she was a natural blonde, because what hair there was on her pubis was blonde as well.

It was still shocking to Nikki to see other naked slaves, particularly when they were interacting with her as if this were normal. It totally did not feel normal!

Tammy looked Nikki up and down. “Why she looks lovely already, Sir. She’s positively glowing!”

Mark smiled. “You are right of course. But she needs a little mascara, and something to make her eyes look a little wider. And if you can do anything about the dark circles – she always seems to have them no matter what we do! She’s gotten enough sleep lately.”

Tammy smiled back. “It will be a pleasure to work with a slave so lovely.” Tammy reached out her hand to Nikki’s breast, “ May I?” she looked inquisitively at Mark.

“Of course, feel free to touch her in whatever way you would like, as long as you don’t run the stockings or mess up her hair!”

“Oh thank you, Sir.” Tammy reached over and caressed Nikki’s breasts, hefting them and tweaking the nipples. She ran her hands along the garter belt. Touched the remaining hair on Nikki’s pussy. “Oh, she’s so lovely, Sir. So wonderful.”

Nikki felt even more objectified. And surprised as her arousal built. It didn’t seem to matter who touched her, any touch reawakened the feelings Mark had built in her. What an incredible effect.

“I’ll get to work though, Sir.” Tammy took out the make-up and brushes and had Nikki kneel on a cushion and tilt her face up. Tammy’s touches as she applied concealer, eye shadow, base, blush, lipcream, all felt like caresses. She applied three coats of mascara.

“This is not waterproof. It will run when you cry. Most of the time people think that enhances the look of the slave, but it depends on the slave and on the mood of the Master. The good news is that if Charles doesn’t like it, it’s also really easy to remove with just a wet washcloth. So you should be prepared to offer him that you remove it before he does anything that makes you want to cry!!”

Tammy finished up with pencil and lipgloss, and then helped Nikki to her feet. “Oh, honey!” Tammy put her left hand on Nikki’s right hip, her right hand under Nikki’s left breast. “You look so great, I wish I could kiss you but I don’t want to mess up your beautiful mouth.”

Mark thanked Tammy with a deep kiss, and a swat on the butt, before sending her on her way.

“Now, my dear, it is time for your dress. I’m going to help you step into it so it doesn’t mess up your hair.” Mark carefully arranged the dress on the floor and helped Nikki step into the circle formed by the skirt. Then he pulled it up over her hips and breasts. The dress was of black silk chiffon. The skirt wide, pleated, falling to below her knee. Then there was a gathered area between her waist and right under her breasts, it looked almost like a cummerbund, her breasts were held in two triangular pieces of fabric that diminished to spaghetti straps running over her shoulders and down to attach at her mid back. There was something very 40s looking in the style, and very Marilyn Monroe.

Nikki felt even more like a princess. The garter belt was holding her waist in even smaller than usual, and holding her stomach flat. The shoes were making her stand up straight. The built in cups in the dress held her breasts up, making a spectacular cleavage. And the collar topped it off.

“Oh, I almost forgot! There are matching wrist cuffs.” Mark got another box and had Nikki hold out her wrists one at a time as he snapped the cuffs onto them. Nikki felt almost in a trance. The cuffs fit her wrists perfectly. Had the same type of mechanism that meant she couldn’t open them. But in addition they had a slip lock that made it so that they could be joined together, as Mark now did in front of her body, and she could not detach them.

Nikki gasped. She hadn’t meant to, but the combination of all these sensations was too much. The silk on her naked buttocks. The feeling of the garter straps running down her thighs, the leash hanging from her collar, the constraint of her wrists joined together in front of her body. She felt helpless. And beautiful. She felt like a slave.