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Each person walking through her doors was a potential story or desire to realize, just as Logan had said. As Alice had said. Madison wondered why she'd spent five years of her life doing something that didn't speak to her heart the way this job did. And pursuing relationships so different from the one she was in now.
The answer to that was pretty simple. She'd been looking for love, a relationship, instead of actualizing herself. Moving to a new place, realizing how much she enjoyed doing this, gave her a different sense of who she was, almost as if she was becoming a more evolved Madison. One who was involved in . . . something . . . with an extraordinary man. A Master.
As she picked up the box, she knew she might be about to evolve even further--if she could hold on to her courage with both hands.
The box wasn't as small as the last one, but too small to hold a full costume. Shaking it, she heard what sounded like several loose items.
"Why do you shake a present before you open it?" She remembered her eight-year-old self asking Alice. "You're going to open it anyway."
"Why do you smell chocolate before you bite into it?" her sister had rebounded. "It's the same thing."
Lately, Madison had been shaking packages as well as savoring her chocolate. Good changes.
When she opened the box, the first thing she saw was an embossed invitation on heavy, cream-colored paper. When she opened it, the handwriting looked like a woman's script.
Novitiate, your training is complete. It's time for you to be claimed by a Master. At six p.m. this coming Sunday, you will wait in a kneeling position inside the door of your quarters, leaving the door unlocked. A servant will retrieve you for the auction. It will be the last time you see your home. Wear and bring nothing but what is contained in this box. Prepare yourself exactly in accordance with the instructions. --Training Mistress
What Logan had coaxed from the deepest, most shameful corners of her mind was her recurring desire to play out a fantasy where she was a female sex slave, trained to serve a Master. The pinnacle of the fantasy was an auction where the highest bidder would take possession of her. A particular bidder--a soldier. Quelling a little quiver in her lower vitals, she looked deeper into the box.
She lifted out a utilitarian collar, no more than a buckled strap with several D-rings placed around its circumference. There were chain
s attached to it. A diagram showed her how it fit. The chains ran to a set of nipple clamps, and then continued around back to be reconnected to the collar. As she registered the weight of the chain, imagining the pull, her nipples gave a twinge.
At the bottom of the box was a thong like she'd given Nancy, a bullet vibrator inserted into the crotch panel. There was no obvious way to turn it on, suggesting it was remote-controlled, but that piece wasn't included. Her heart fluttered as she thought of the control in Logan's hands. The thong's back strap had a metal ring sewn into it. Glancing at the bottom of the box, she found out why. She also found she was starting to breathe a little more shallowly. The room had become even more silent, the air dense, pressing on her exposed skin.
She pulled out a butt plug. It was about three inches long, but thick as a man's cock. As Logan's cock. Opening the folded sheet included with the announcement, the referenced "instructions," she started to read. The quiver of the paper told her she was shaking.
From here forward, you are not allowed to pleasure yourself in any way. Or be pleasured. A single infraction will incur severe punishment. Twenty-five strikes with a switch.
You will not speak to anyone about your preparations or the auction. For eight hours before you are picked up, you will not eat, or drink anything but water. You will not watch television, read or do anything to occupy your time except think of how you will serve your new Master.
Four hours before the auction, you will do the following:
You will use the cleansing products included and flush out your vagina and anus thoroughly, purging away the leavings of other males you endured as part of your training. You come to your Master clean and pure, never again to be touched by anyone except him and whom he designates.
"Whom he designates." Logan had said he would give her a guided fantasy, that other men wouldn't really be touching her. He would just make her believe it "might" be happening. He was doing a good job, because she was already wondering if she'd misunderstood, or if she needed to reinforce the message with him.
Take an hour-long bath, soaking in the oils included in this package.
Wash your hair, braid it and put it in a tight topknot on your head. Use the sculpting clay so not a single strand is loose. Put on the collar.
A half hour before the pick-up time, attach the chain and nipple clamps. Put on the thong, making sure the bullet is positioned against your clit and the plug is pushed all the way inside you. The back ring will hold it in place.
A webcam was included in the box, with a separate note attached to it.
As you prepare yourself, you will keep this webcam turned toward you at all times. The footage will be a live feed to the individuals interested in bidding on you. They will view the property they wish to purchase, and verify your obedience. As you learned at the training center where you have spent the last six months, you have no right to privacy of any kind with your Master.
Wow. Had she bit off more than she could chew?
At ten minutes before six, while kneeling by the door, you will put on the blindfold. Remember Alice.
"Remember Alice"? What did that mean? Unsettled, she folded the paper and sifted through all the items. Maybe she needed to talk to Logan about this. But she knew enough about how he planned things to know the note's wording was carefully chosen, like "you will not speak to anyone about your preparations." In the fantasy, she wasn't the Madison who ran this store and he wasn't the store owner next door. But she still wanted to see him. Needed to see him. Remember Alice?
Brownstone's sultry "If You Love Me" started up as three black women came in, lively and in full-blown shopping mode. She closed the box and slid it under the counter, hoping her cheeks weren't scarlet, as if she'd been caught doing something illicit. In this store, that would probably just be considered one of the perks of the job. Taking a deep breath, she moved out from behind her counter to engage.
Fortunately, the women were too involved in their own banter to pay close attention to her, at least initially, and by the time they did, she had herself under better control.
Sally, Nell and Diana were all in their thirties, divorced and deep in the dating pool, so they plunged right into a delightful evaluation of her different vibrator options and how they compared to their current boyfriends, a purely female discussion that had them all howling with laughter in no time, including Madison.
