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Brianna
The backstage of The Punishment Pit had been transformed into a medieval dungeon. Large torches and candelabra adorned the space, casting shadowy, flickering light to the center event. All other dungeon materials had been moved to the edges to make room for the main attraction.
A curvy woman Bri assumed was Miranda lay naked, face down on a massage table, while several scantily clad women took up positions around her, massaging all parts of her body. As Brianna and Tiff approached, Bri noted Miranda was wearing what looked to be thong underwear. Upon further inspection, it was more like a chastity belt; a wide strip of stiff leather enclosing her feminine core.
They’d arrived in time for the scary man supervising the preparations to announce it was time to flip her over. Many hands assisted in rolling her on to her back. Those same hands resumed their full-body massage. No part of her was off limits—with the exception of the pussy, protected by the leather.
The massage was leisurely, with the women remaining silent, enabling Miranda’s moans to fill the space. So far, Tiffany and Brianna had remained on the sidelines, choosing to be observers to the preparations. Bri detected Derek stepping up behind them.
“Ladies, I’m glad you decided to join us down here as we watch the Master Trainer preparing his student to be presented to her new Master and husband.”
“Wait, so you mean she trained with the guy there, and now she’s marrying someone else?”
Derek looked down at Brianna as he answered her quietly. “Yes. She actually met her Master first. When they decided they wanted the same lifestyle, he sent her for three months of training with Master Trainer. Tonight, marks the end of her training, and the start of her new life as a full-time slave.”
Tiffany questioned him. “I don’t get it. Why would any woman choose to be a slave 24/7?”
Derek, who enjoyed teaching, smiled. “I’m sure that doesn’t sound fun to you two sassy ladies, but believe it or not, there are more than a few women who dream of living the life of a full-time slave. They want to be taken care of completely, and feel loved and protected by their Master. I’ve spent time talking with Miranda to make sure she is of sound mind to consent, and that’s exactly how she feels.”
They fell into a quiet lull as the trainer took a key from a chain around his neck, unlocking the chastity belt and removing it from Miranda’s body. After setting it aside, he asked the women surrounding the table to assist him in preparing her body for her new Master. He lifted each of her legs at the knee, handing the legs to women on either side of the table, asking them to spread her open wide and hold her still. He then instructed the woman standing at the head of the table to secure Miranda’s hands above her head. Once she was immobilized, the Trainer began preparing her for a thorough waxing.
Minutes later, once her pussy and ass were completely hair free, the Trainer rolled over the stand that Brianna recognized from the stage when Lukus and James had used it on her. The large red enema bag hanging from the tallest hook, Bri knew, would be used to cleanse Miranda thoroughly for the ceremony.
Knowing her best friend, and concerned for her state of mind, Bri grasped Tiffany’s hand as they observed the overly large enema nozzle being inserted into the slave’s ass. The Trainer opened the valve to allow the flow of water into her bowel. Bri was relieved that someone, most likely Derek, thought to have quiet music playing in the background. Even with the music, Brianna could still hear small moans escaping from the slave as she accepted the water flowing inside her without complaint. It took several minutes, during which Brianna felt Tiffany’s grip tightening.
Tiff whispered close to Bri. “It’s too much. Isn’t it going to hurt her?”
Brianna answered in a hushed whisper. “It’s a lot, but that’s the same bag I took, so I know she can handle it.”
Tiffany’s hand squeezing now hurt.
“Tiff, it’s okay,” Bri said reassuringly. “You already told Lukus you don’t want to do this.”
“Yeah, but he was disappointed. I could tell.”
The girls fell silent when the Trainer pinned them with a stare for talking. The bag emptied, the valve was clamped, and Miranda grunted with the expanding nozzle in her ass. The water would not be going anywhere until her Trainer allowed it. He did ask for her legs to be brought down so her feet were placed on the table, knees bent.
The Trainer nodded and a sub on either side of the table took Miranda’s arms, extending them, then grasping her wrists. The Trainer pulled out a hidden expansion from each side of the table. The extensions were barely wider than Miranda’s arms. Brianna watched, enthralled, as the slave’s arms were strapped securely to the table expansions.
Brianna spotted a man covered in leather, with long black hair and unruly facial hair move forward with what looked like a tackle box. He silently approached the slave’s left wrist. Opening his case, he removed the materials he needed to embed a tattoo into her skin. Brianna was too far away to see what the tattoo was, but she and Tiffany looked on, with great interest, as the artist made quick work of sanitizing the area before adding permanent ink to the inside of her left wrist. He moved to the right wrist to repeat the process. The tattoos must have been small because it didn’t take him long. Regardless, the combination of the pain of the tattooist’s needle, combined with the fullness of her bowels, had Miranda squirming uncomfortably. To her credit, she didn’t speak or ask for the action to stop.
Once the tattoos were complete, the artist traded his needle for a marker. Brianna and Tiffany stayed focused with fascination as he molded Miranda’s breasts in his hands, tweaking her nipples until they protruded proudly. He then used the permanent marker to mark her nipples for what Brianna assumed would be nipple piercings.
After finishing, he packed up his materials while Miranda was released from her restraints. It surprised Bri when her Trainer lifted the sex-slave from the table, cradling her gently in his arms before whisking her off to some unknown location, presumably to expel the enema. The second they were out of sight, the submissive witnesses released a collective sigh.
A strawberry blonde, plus-sized woman beelined it towards Brianna and Tiffany. Her broad smile had a hint of sass.
“I was hoping to see you here, Tiffany. I was worried Master Lukus might try to keep you sheltered upstairs tonight after your fast exit the other night. I can’t wait to hear all of the juicy details of how things are going with you two. You are somewhat of a legend around here, you know.”
Before Brianna or Tiffany could respond, it was Derek who answered. “All right, Violet. Master Grey told me to keep an eye on you, and he made a special point to remind me of your no gossiping rule. Do I need to report back to him that you’ve broken his rules already?”
Violet cranked her neck to look up at him with the most innocent smile. “But Master Derek, I always thought the definition of gossip was when you talk about someone behind their back. I want to talk to Tiffany directly. That’s not really gossip. I think that’s more like friendship, don’t you, Tiffany?” She threw a saucy smile at Tiff to back her up.
Brianna watched as Tiffany mirrored the innocent smile of her friend. “Oh yes. I quite agree. What do you think, Brianna?” Tiff turned her mischievous smile on her best friend, but Violet’s loud squeal interrupted.
“Oh my God! You’re Markus’s wife, aren’t you? I knew you looked familiar, but I didn’t place you. It’s so great to finally meet you. My husband and I were here that Friday night when, well, when you…” Violet at least had the decency to blush pink. “Well, shit. Open mouth, insert foot.”
Derek interjected. “Okay, I’m off to text Grey. Have fun, ladies.”
