Still, that could wait. She seemed much better than last night and I started to feel happier with the idea of leaving her alone for a while. I led her into the dungeon and removed the posture collar from

her neck, replacing her old collar. After I chained her to the table I removed the rest of the single sleeve and smiled again. "Ok, get naked!"

She didn't hesitate, stripping off the remaining latex in moments. I circled her body, admiring her slim athletic build and small but perfect breasts. I had come to appreciate just what a find she was and I could understand why any man would kill to keep her. I tossed her some leather cuffs which she put on without comment. To put on the ankle cuffs, she put one foot at a time on the bondage chair and bent over, and I took the opportunity to look at her back carefully. The lines were faint, so faint that I wasn't surprised I had missed them. These were not the vivid scars so beloved of Hollywood, and I suspected that Conway had been very careful to ensure that all tell-tale wounds healed properly. Yet faint as they, were the scars were there. It was more support for her story.

By now she was waiting expectantly, so I handed her the shake. "What's this?" she asked, looking at the concoction with some distaste.

"Breakfast," I said. "Michael Jordan's secret recipe. Denis would *kill to know what's in it."

She looked blank. "Not a big basketball fan then?" I asked. Again getting no reply I went for the less subtle approach. "Just drink it,

slave. It's all the meal you're getting this morning."

"Why? Have I upset you in some way?" she asked, almost fearfully. "Because if I did I'm sorry. . ."

"No, it's just healthier than the cooked breakfast. Now drink the fucking shake!"

She chugged it down. I got the feeling that she was trying to avoid any confrontation, which suited me fine. Most of the last few days had revolved around her, a situation that couldn't continue if I wanted to keep working. Now was the obvious time to acquaint her with

the lowliness of her new position; that as a slave, she was just a possession like any other and had only a limited influence on my life.

Once the shake was finished I clipped her wrists to her collar and began to dress her. First up came a black leather bondage belt. This

was about three or four inches wide with rings equally spaced around it. It had buckles on the front and a small catch, and after tightening it firmly about her narrow waist I locked it in place with a padlock. She didn't struggle or even comment - cuffs, gags and chains were a part of her life now, and I think she'd started to accept that. Once the belt was locked in place I helped her on to the

table and used cord and straps to tie her down. As before, I strapped

her with her legs parted and her pussy exposed. I wished I had the time to shave her twat again but I had a lot to do and the clock was ticking.

Once Caroline was secure I reached over and took a packet from the table. The packet took some opening as it was designed to keep its contents sterile. After a struggle I finally got it open and was able

to remove the catheter. This was a small hollow tube surrounded by an

inflatable surgical balloon. I looked for a reaction but it was obvious she didn't recognize it. She was still wearing the training harness, so after a little thought I reached over and pushed the ball against those cherry lips. She opened immediately and I pushed the gag in, loosely fastening it just enough to hold it in place. Then, using a small jar of lube, I greased the end of the catheter and parted her pussy lips. Her clit had already started to swell and as I

gently pushed it out of the way her whole body trembled. Very carefully, I placed the catheter against her urethra and pushed. A muffled squeal erupted from the far end of the table, and her hips quaked as her body fought against the imprisoning bonds. The thin tube slid home into her bladder, and I slowly inflated the balloon the

small amount needed to seal it in place. Then I removed the pump and waited for her to calm down. Needless to say this took a while, but eventually she was ready for the next stage.

I call the device a McGuffin. It's a small oval piece of latex a little bigger than a woman's labia. One side is plain, and the other is studded with electrodes and small piezo-electric buzzers. This particular one had been designed for use with the catheter and had a small hole between the cluster of electrodes for the clit and those for the rest of the pussy. Sliding it down the tube, I gently moved it into best contact . At the other end of the table the moans started

again. Once it was in position, I sealed it in place using surgical tape, then released Caroline. She stood a little uncertainly; it must

be odd for a woman to suddenly find a pipe between her legs, and she struggled a bit more than usual as I covered the arrangement with a special pair of spandex pants. I used a locking belt to fasten the pants in place then started to apply electrodes to her breasts. She struggled and moaned into the gag as I stuck a couple of other McGuffins on top if each nipple. I finished up with an spandex athletic bra just like those in the shops except modified to lock in place. Then I removed the gag.

"What are you doing. . .Master?"

"Careful, slave. You almost bought yourself a punishment!"

Her eyes were wide. "Isn't this a punishment?"

I laughed and kissed her forehead. "Why, have you done anything wrong?"

She thought for a while. "Not as far as I know."

"Then why should I punish you?" It seemed straightforward to me, but then Conway had never needed a reason to punish her. I smiled. "I have to go somewhere and I need to keep you busy while I'm gone. Trust me, all will be revealed!"

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