HOW WE SERVE MASTER

“Gag her.“

“Yes, Master. Ball or panties?“

“If I cared, I would have commanded. You decide. You have my permission to fetch.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.“

I headed to the discipline room. I had seen Gretchen’s black lace, crotchless panties laying beside her as she knelt on the living room floor, so I picked up a roll of strapping tape from a shelf in one of the closets and went back to the living room with it.

I wadded up Gretchen’s panties and put them in her mouth. I tore off some tape and put it over her mouth, creating the gag Master had ordered.

“Cuff her.”

“Yes, Master.”

“When you fetch, also bring my full cane and a double-weighted clit clamp.”

I hurried off to the discipline room and quickly returned with what he had ordered.

I handed him the cane.

“Attach.“

“Yes, master.“

I stepped behind Gretchen, bent over and cuffed her wrists behind her back.

Then I walked around to her front. I squatted and attached the clamp to her clit.

She let out a very quiet gasp.

It was the first sound or motion she had made since I came home to find her kneeling naked in the living room.

I didn’t know why yet she was being punished. But I was helping Master punish her.

It’s what he made us do. Help hurt the other.

Gretchen and I agreed long ago that we would not hold it against each other. We were sex slaves. We had no choice but to obey.

With the brutal accuracy he had displayed so many times, Master began to flick the steel tip of his cane on Gretchen’s nipples.

She was a strong woman, we both were. But neither of us was ever a match for Master.

After a while, she began to shake and sob. And as the tip of the cane continued to find the tender tips of her breasts, she dropped her head back and screamed.

But it was perfectly muzzled by the expert gag I had created for her.

My truest contribution to her current misery.