Fia didn’t know what to think when Julie left her behind with George. Julie took her boytoy slave with her and left after she was done humiliating both Fia and George.
“Thank you, Master,” said Julie when the other woman was gone.
He gave her an inscrutable look. “What are you thanking me for?”
“For taking me back.”
He scoffed at her. “I didn’t take you back.”
Fia was confused. “What happened then?”
He just shook his head and refused to answer her question. She didn’t demand an answer because it wasn’t her place.
She was still thrilled to spend the night with George in his bed.
“Do you have any pressing work to do?” he asked her the next morning.
In deference to her position as his—perhaps temporary—slave she wore no clothing as they ate breakfast. He was in a robe and nothing else.
“No. Nothing.”
“Good. Shower and get dressed. We have an appointment this morning.”
She couldn’t imagine when he had time to make an appointment for them with anyone for any reason but she didn’t question him. Naturally she figured that he had to go to his job, but that didn’t seem to be the case today.
From her time as George’s girlfriend, before she became his slave, Fia had left a few items of clothing in his apartment. After showering she found the clothes where she had left them in the bottom drawer of a dresser, but she hesitated to put them on.
“Does it matter what I wear?” she asked him. She had a mix of casual and party clothes in the drawer.
He glanced at what she had available. “The black skirt and any blouse. I don’t care. No panties. No bra. Stockings; we don’t need you looking like slut.”
Fia wanted to challenge him on the issue of bare legs being a sign of a slut but remained silent. Sluts would definitely go without any underwear.
When they got in his BWM he said to her, “Pull up your skirt. I want your bare skin on the leather.”
She did as he asked. He undoubtedly knew her pussy was on the leather as well. If they were stopped, her pussy would be hidden. Mostly. She was just glad he didn’t insist she open up her shirt and display her tits to the public.
When they arrived at their destination, Fia recognized it immediately. She didn’t question him. She wanted to remain George’s slave. She knew there was going to be a price to pay. What that price was she didn’t know just yet.
The storefront was in the artsy district. Except for a corner store, everything else was still closed even though it was just past nine. People were still getting up and going to work. The door to the storefront was locked. George knocked. A moment later Trixie appeared and let them in, locking the door behind them.
“You’re paying extra for me to come down here this early in the morning,” the woman with the brightly dyed hair of multiple colors said.
“That’s fine. A VCH for my slave, please.”
Trixie looked back and forth between the pair. Fia kept her face neutral.
“She might not have the anatomy for it,” said Trixie.
“Then look at her cunt and give her a piercing that she can take,” said George, anger touching his voice.
“I’m not comfortable piercing anyone who doesn’t want it done,” she replied.
George turned to his slave. “Fia?”
“I’d like the piercing, please,” she said without further prompting.
That wasn’t enough to placate Trixie. “I can still say no.”
“I’ll just take her somewhere else that will do it. I know you’ll do it right. I know you have a contract with the club.”
“I hate this,” the piercer complained.
“Just do it.”
A minute later Fia was on the padded table where she had had her nipples pierced. Her skirt was on the counter, her feet were in the table’s stirrups, and Trixie was between her legs inspecting her pussy with her fingers. There was more than a bit of medical atmosphere because of the equipment and the latex gloves Trixie wore.
“Well?” George demanded after Trixie’s long inspection.
“She can take a VCH.”
“Use a CBR on her.”
“Very traditional.”
“I want her belly button pierced as well,” George added. “Do that first.”
“The VCH will hurt less. I’ll do that one first.”
Fia found that hard to believe but Trixie was the expert. Ten minutes later she had silver CBRs in her clitoral hood and her belly button. Trixie had been right. There was a sharp sting with the hood piercing but the pain had faded quickly. The navel piercing hurt when it was done and now throbbed painfully in time with her heartbeat.
When it was all over George had her get to her feet, open up her blouse so he could see her naked body. All four CBRs she now wore matched each other.
“When can I use chains on them?”
With a sigh Trixie inspected Fia’s nipples. “Her tits are good to go. Navel piercings can take up to six months to fully heal. Her VCH will be a couple of weeks. No play until then.”
“Ornamental chains?”
This time Trixie shook her head and sighed. “Lightweight only. You don’t want them tearing out.”
“Thank you.”
George had Fia get dressed and they were out of the parlor in less than an hour from when they had walked in. Fia felt like her body was on fire, but in a good way.
He made a stop on the way back to his apartment at, of all places, a strip mall. George insisted she stay in the car while he ran into the pet store. He came out ten minutes later but was not carrying any bag.
She was grateful George didn’t make her ride in the car with her tits out. He was angry with her and she could see him doing that as some sort of twisted punishment.
Oddly, she didn’t consider the piercings she just had done a punishment. George hadn’t asked her if she wanted them. That was his right. He was her owner. He could do with her body as he wished. She could have objected, but she wanted to be owned by him. By Solange. By anyone. She just wanted to be owned as a slave.
That thought gave her pause.
How far was she willing to take this game?
When they finally returned to his apartment she automatically removed her blouse and skirt when they walked inside. When she started to roll down her stockings, George stopped her. “You can leave those on. And your shoes.”
Nodding, Fia straightened up and her hand automatically went to her neck, feeling for her collar. She paused when she realized that she had worn the leather one to the piercer’s. It didn’t really matter. Few people had seen them. Was she more comfortable wearing the leather one in public now?
As much as she wanted to let the world know she was a slave, she still had to maintain a public face, didn’t she?
How far was she willing to go? She had been pierced four times and tattooed. She had had sex with a variety of people and hadn’t questioned any of that. Fia had always told herself that she would never get a body piercing or tattoo, but the moment she was a slave, she had changed her mind. What was wrong with her?
“Come here, Bianca,” said George from the living room. She had been lost in her thoughts but willingly went to him. He had a shiny bit of metal in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other.
Fia’s breath caught in her throat. This wasn’t the sort of torture she wanted to play with.
“Sit down in the chair,” he said, indicating the recliner off to the side that was rarely used. “Spread your legs.”
She moved slowly, asking, “Wh-wh-what are you going to do?”
“Do you want to stop playing?” he asked her in reply.
“N-n-no…”
He waited and she assumed the position he wanted. She leaned into the chair and opened up her legs, displaying her pussy for him. The little dark red triangle still topped her mons and she could see the captive bead ring projecting out from her clitoral hood. It was strange there was little pain from the procedure even though it had been done just a couple of hours ago and she was now sporting metal through what she had always thought of as her most sensitive area.
True, the piercing was through the fleshy hood and not her actual clit, but the CBR was riding on top of the clit. She was enjoying the sensation it generated more than she wanted to admit.
George knelt between her legs. Fia couldn’t remember the last time he had gone down on her. He wasn’t going down on her now, however.
When he brandished the pliers, she unconsciously tried to close her legs, but he was already there blocking that.
“Don’t,” she begged.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” he growled at her.
“I was just pierced today,” she whined.
“I know. I’m not going to hurt you.” He was clearly annoyed.
Fia looked down at him. She didn’t like the scary tool so close to her pussy. She liked it even less when he inserted the pliers into the ring. That caused her to tremble.
“Hold still.”
It was only then she saw that he was using a special pair of pliers like Trixie had when Fia had been pierced. He squeezed the handles and the pliers forced the ring open, dropping the bead into George’s hand. He then took the shiny piece of metal he had earlier acquired and slipped it onto the ring.
Fia recognized it now as the sort of tag a dog would wear.
Being careful not to let the ring slip out of the very recent piercing, George lined up the bead and used another pair of pliers to close the ends of the ring into the bead, trapping the tag on the ring.
“Done,” he announced.
The amount of bleeding from the initial piercing had been minimal. There had been little bleeding since, something Fia was glad for. George had been careful but there was still some incidental bleeding from the recent wound. He absently wiped away the few drops of blood from his fingers onto a tissue and then used another tissue to blot her pussy.
Trixie had used latex gloves and pieces of gauze. She didn’t say that to George, but she couldn’t remain silent either.
“You’re not supposed to play with it until it’s done healing.”
“You’re my property. I’ll do with you what I want. Or are you done being my slave?”
Fia mashed her lips together. She knew she was his property. She wanted to be his property.
Anyone’s property.
“Do you like your tag?” he asked her.
Fia peered closely and carefully held up the tag. It was a simple round tag now attached to her most intimate anatomy. One side of the tag had her slave name on it. Bianca. On the other side it said Owner: George Burton.
She wondered why he didn’t have her tattooed.
In that moment, twisted as it was, she realized she was still in love with George. Maybe because he was her owner. Maybe because he used her like a slave.
She would have been proud to wear his tattoo on her body.
But she had Solange’s name on her ass, like a brand. She would have been happy to be owned by Solange.
Was she still owned by Solange?
She had two owners' names on her.
“I love it,” she said.
“Good. Do you want to be my slave?”
“Yes.” She would have said yes to that question from any dominant man or woman.
“Good. Go to the bedroom.”
She got up and walked with a touch of unsteadiness to his bedroom. It had been weird enough feeling the CBR between her legs, pressing into her clit. George followed and started taking off his clothes when he walked in.
Fia wasn’t sure what to expect. Surely he wouldn’t want to fuck her right now? Trixie had said no sex for at least a week while she healed.
George’s cock was erect when he dropped his pants. He was expecting something, that was obvious.
She knew she’d do as he asked.
“Suck me off.”
That was an easy request. She could have sat on the edge of his bed for that, but even the soft bed would have been too much for her recent piercing. She instead got down on her knees, happy that George had thick carpeting in his bedroom and not a hardwood floor, and put her hand around the base of his cock.
Every time Fia performed fellatio she was reminded of her high school boyfriend. Oral sex was her introduction to sex. She would forever associate sex, oral sex especially, with the scent of the music practice room. Looking back she realized how young and innocent she had been when she had sucked off David.
George was already erect. It was easy to lick his length, suck the little bit of precum off his head, and then take most of his length down her throat. He enjoyed it when she took him deeply. Since he trimmed his pubic hair, there was no annoyance when she all but buried her nose against his body.
Abruptly George pulled out of her mouth and slapped her across the face.
She gasped at the impact but didn’t protest further.
“No teeth,” he warned her.
Fia hadn’t been using her teeth but she didn’t contradict him. That was a losing proposition. She instead focused on pleasuring him. Sucking the head. Cupping the balls and then sucking his balls, first one and then the other, into her mouth, stroking his length, doing all she could to bring him off.
“Deep throat me.”
That she could do. Fia thought she was very talented at deepthroating. She was a natural.
“Fuck. Fuck I’m close,” George grunted.
She could tell. He was hard and he kept trying to shove his cock further down her throat. He wasn’t that big or long, so she could handle him.
Cupping his balls, she lightly rubbed his perineum, trying to get him over the edge.
Once more he pulled out of her mouth without warning. She looked up at him in confusion.
“Don’t fucking move,” he ordered her.
His hand pistoned up and down on his cock. It took her a moment but she knew what he was going to do.
“Close your eyes.”
She was glad she did.
A second later she felt the hot cum splatter on her forehead, her cheek, her nose and lips, and then finally on her lips again. She was fairly sure that he hadn’t gotten any on her eyelids but she kept her eyes closed just in case. She would be able to stumble to the bathroom easily enough, having done it in the dark many times before.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.” She tasted his cum on her lips. It was pleasant enough.
“Don’t fucking move,” he reminded her.
George moved away and then returned a few seconds later. It was only when she sensed the flash through her eyelids did she realize he was taking her picture. She could have protested. She didn’t. The humiliation made her pussy moisten.
Was this who she was now?
George’s finger wiped at her face. She could feel him gathering up some of his cum. “Open,” he said.
She parted her lips and he shoved in his finger. She closed her lips around it and sucked off his cum.
“Swallow.”
She did so. She had swallowed plenty of cum in her life, a lot of it George’s. This wasn’t especially humiliating.
She was worried about the pictures he had taken, however.
He repeated the procedure several times, cleaning as much cum as possible from her face, taking a few pictures along the way.
“Good slaves always eat their master’s cum, don’t they?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Go clean yourself up.”
Fia carefully opened her eyes and stumbled to the bathroom.
When she came out, George had already dressed. “Put on your clothes and go home. I’m going to send you a text with some instructions. See that you get it done by tonight.”
With that he walked out of the bedroom. A moment later she heard the front door close. Fia put on her clothes, hating the way they felt against her skin, and went home to her tiny apartment.
She had barely walked in when her phone buzzed with a message from George.
Complete the profile I started for you. Use the pictures I took today. Take some of your pussy. Include your face. Nothing hidden.
Fia’s heart went cold.
Her pussy, however, was throbbing hot and incredibly wet.