The Palace

He kissed my mouth, the taste of my own muskiness strong on his lips. "Your handler will come for you now," he said. "Good luck, lovely one."

Good luck, not good night. Was there more still to come?

A new voice spoke. "You will come with me," he ordered. He helped me stand, then connected my wrists to my collar and chained my ankles. He led me by a leash back along a winding path. The raw chafing of my vagina made every step torturous.

A door latched, and my blindfold was removed. The light was dim, but I had been in darkness for so long, my eyes struggled to adjust. I began to make sense of the room. A bed stood against one wall, with a sturdy metal frame. A table and chair, too, occupied the generous space, as well as two pieces of furniture I could not name. Both appeared to be intended for bondage, however, one seated and one lying down.

I remembered suddenly that I was not alone. A man in white stood patiently beside me, waiting for me to finish my survey of the room. With the gift of sight returned to me, I was newly reminded of my nudity and helplessness.

"I am your handler," the man said. "You will not call me Master but rather Sir or Handler. I will take you to and from clients and be responsible for your care and discipline. You make speak freely in my presence as long as your tone and words are respectful. However, you are required to be obedient to me as you are to your masters, and I am not obligated to answer your questions nor respond to your requests." He examined the back of my neck. "When you return from an assignment, I will determine the extent of your evening punishment. Only five discipline marks on your first day is quite good! Your obedience will serve you well."

He demonstrated to me that the door was locked, then unchained my ankles and uncoupled my wrists from my collar. "I am also permitted to use you in any way that pleases me," he continued. "At my discretion. I will put it to you plainly that your single greatest aspiration should be to keep me happy. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I said. My initiation had been so surreal, while this interaction was comparatively ordinary, and I was having difficulty forming coherent thoughts. I was also exhausted, and the bed called to me.

"This is your room. You will spend a great deal of time here. As you progress in your training and service, you will earn personal items so that you can make this space comfortable and to your liking. And can you guess how you will earn these items?"

"By obeying, Sir?"

"That's right. Each evening, I will come for you. If you have a client, I will take you to him. If you do not, I may have other tasks for you. Some clients will desire to inflict pain, while others may simply wish to take their pleasure with you. You will serve all according to their wishes."

"Will I always be restrained?"

"That is up to you," he said.

Obedience again. "Will I always be naked?"

"For your clients, yes. You may earn garments over time to wear otherwise."

"And what about my monthly bleeding?"

"You are asking excellent questions. Since you have eschewed family and breeding, you have no more need of your reproductive capabilities, which includes your bleeding. You will undergo a procedure tomorrow that will prevent both pregnancy and your cycle permanently."

Permanently. I pondered that. This was what I had asked for, but there was a finality to "permanent" that I found disturbing. There was no going back.

"Now, we will see to your evening punishment, tend to your wounds, and then you will sleep. For five discipline marks, with the mitigating circumstance of this being your first assignment, you will sleep with your wrists chained to your collar, and you will have your anus filled."

"I don't understand."

"You will learn. Bend over the bed and do not resist."

I braced myself for pain, but my handler did not strike me. He applied a cool, soothing ointment to my abused private regions, and the relief far outweighed any embarrassment his touch may have caused. I was learning quickly that my exposure was to be the least of my concerns.

"You should relieve yourself, as you will be unable to do so once you are chained for bed," he instructed. He helped me stand and showed me to a small, private bathroom through a door in the corner of the room. I winced at the sting of my urine, but relief was almost immediate when I was through. As I rose to return to my handler, a wave of exhaustion swept over me. Yes, sleep would be welcome.

He had me bend over once more, and showed me a metal object shaped something like a wide peg.

"This is an anal plug," he explained. "I will insert it now, and I will remove it upon your awakening tomorrow. It will not be comfortable, though you will adjust to it over time."

The girth was intimidating, at least as wide as two of his fingers at the widest point. "Why?" I asked.

"This is your punishment," he said. "Keep still." He stood close behind me and pressed the tip of the plug into my anus. It felt similar to the object my client had used as his act of "mercy." One swift push settled the plug in my anus, and the pain, too, was the same. I struggled to keep my position as the agony caused my knees to buckle. Throbbing pain deep in my pelvis beat in counterpoint to the stabbing pain in the ring of my anus.

"Stand," my handler ordered, but I could not right myself completely. He connected my wrist cuffs to my collar and helped me lie down. "Good night," he said. "The punishment is severe if you are discovered unchained or without the plug at any time during the night. I will return to check on you periodically."

He left, the door closing with a click of finality. I lay on my back, eyes unwilling to close, reliving the events of the day. The pain of the anal plug had faded, but the discomfort had not, and I shifted, trying to find a tolerable position for sleep.

Would tomorrow bring pain or pleasure? Would I ever again know anything but torture and servitude?

"This is what you wanted," I reminded myself. "Stupid, selfish girl."