The Queen Of Spades

Aisha did not lose hope at that moment but she lost something else. Something that so many people have but do not value properly. She lost the power to change her future. The freedom to have a meaningful say even when her body was going to be altered.

The fuck doll had arrived at the beginning of the puppet show. Soon she would be grateful for every opportunity to please. The training would search out that inner malleable part of her character and use it to subdue her will.

 

*** The Reveal.

When Chantel was passed the visiting card by her husband she almost felt her heart leap. It had been seven months since she had seen Veronica and Aisha leave in Veronica's limo.

There had been no poker played at her apartment for all that time and Chantel missed the routine and the companionship of equals but the dislike that she felt for Aisha had swelled to hateful proportions.

On the visit card, the front design of a Queen of Spades and the simple word 'Veronica' printed underneath said less than Veronica herself usually did. On the rear was scribbled a telephone number that Chantel rang with some curiosity.

A man's voice answered the phone. "You have reached the office of Veronica Sedgegrove."

Chantel introduced herself and was passed the message.

"Miss Sedgegrove will be visiting you at nine O'clock at the usual poker venue. She wished to know if you would be able to attend the game?"

"Of course," replied Chantel as she wondered if the three hours before the game was enough to prepare herself. Hair, nails, make-up and what to wear? It would take hours.

"I have been asked to tell you that Aisha and Elisabeth have also already agreed to come, so there is no need for you to make any other arrangements."

******

Elisabeth arrived first. She hugged her friend and lost no time in catching up with the last few months of news. Chantel led her friend to the poker room where she stepped to the table and posed with arms outstretched.

"What do you think?" she asked her friend.

Elisabeth looked over Chantel and allowed a look of surprise. "Chantel, you little devil. You have enlarged again and I'll swear that your waist is thin enough to snap in my two hands. You know, what I said last time was heartfelt."

"Are you making another pass at me?"

"Of course. I love your hourglass figure and big breasts are just perfect. Best of all that fanny of yours is so round. I must admit that I am ravished by your figure."

"But is it too much?" asked Chantel as she fished for the complete compliment.

"Never. You look perfect," said Elisabeth and then she noticed. "Well I'll be... You are wearing one of my company's sexy corsets. That is a real compliment to me, I am so pleased. Are you sure that I can't have you?" Elisabeth inspected the narrow waist and high held breasts and had to admit that the design could have been a personal fitting for Chantel.

"Maybe, one day you can fuck me darling! But for now I have a new lover."

"Well," said Elisabeth. "I won't ask again, so when you make up your mind just you come running to me. I hate being turned down, do not do this to me."

At that moment the doorbell rang, not allowing Chantel to reply to her friend’s implicit threat. Chantel went to answer the door.

"We are alone tonight, I gave my hubby the night off and the servants finished at six so I actually have to answer the door," said Chantel as she headed for the entrance hall.

Veronica, Aisha and Chantel entered the room to be greeted by Elisabeth. Aisha wore a long black coat that draped to the floor and Veronica was dressed casually in jeans and pullover.

"Let me take that," said Elisabeth to Aisha as she reached for the coat.

Aisha looked at Veronica who gave a small nod of assent.

The coat slipped off Aisha into Elisabeth's hands to reveal that Aisha was naked under the coat except for red stilettos and a shiny steel collar from which hung a chain.

Chantel clapped her hands in delight as she watched the small tableau.

"Perfect," she muttered. "Absolutely perfect."

She stepped to reach out and touch the slave that she had spent so much money on over the last few months. This was the first time that she got to see what she had paid for.

This was the sweet moment of revenge.

Her fingertips ran over the hanging breasts and their large dark nipples before she took in the thin waist and wide hips of her former friend. So much work had been done.

Gone was the slender but taut Aisha. Her ass was round and full, curving round to a naked sex that sat plumply between her bulging thighs. Aisha's breasts hung like overripe fruit and the huge nipples that tipped them with dark promise that begged special attention.

"Veronica," whispered Chantel. "She is perfect, so feminine and fuckable. I just can't wait to use her."

Elisabeth dropped Aisha's coat to the floor and walked around the still standing slave to inspect the work at close hand. One hand cupped a cheek of the rounded ass and then drifted to her bare sex as she walked around Chantel's new acquisition. A crease concealed the gateway covering lips and clitoris with smooth skin that folded inward so very neatly, making Aisha look almost like a sexless doll.

Aisha stood meekly as Chantel took up the chain and pulled her into the centre of the room where the light was brightest.

"Worth every cent," said Chantel. "This is the woman that gave me the nickname that haunted me through my life. Now she belongs to me and we shall see who is ridden the most. She is going to be the bike and I will be in the saddle!"

Veronica had stepped back to watch the unveiling. Chantel had told Elisabeth, that was clear, because Elisabeth was looking at Aisha with a smile that told Veronica that she was complicit from the start.

It was always the best of moments when a person first received a new slave. There was usually delight at the prospect of owning a person. Being able to command without restriction. Even better if the new slave was an enemy or the motive was revenge!

Veronica also saw it as telling, what was the first thing that the slave was ordered to do?

Sexual, degrading, punishing or just loving?

That first moment usually defined the entire relationship in miniature. What was Chantel's first use?

She had guessed that it would be degrading. Veronica was not often wrong and this time was no exception.

"Kiss my feet, bitch," said Chantel. It was clear that she was used to giving orders but this one was one that she had never used before.

Aisha bowed her head and slowly kneeled. She lay flat on the carpet and stretched out her legs and arms before beginning to brush her lips on the smooth leather of her new owner's shoes.
For a minute Chantel drank in the scene. Aisha spread-eagled on the floor and the gentle brush of lips on her feet.

"Can I punish her?" asked Chantel. "Now?"

Veronica laughed lightly and said, "Chantel, you paid for the bitch to be trained and adjusted to your tastes. She is yours to do with as you like! If you need any other work done on her, just tell me what needs to be done and we will fulfil your requirements."

Chantel looked down and smiled.

"Can I borrow her?" asked Elisabeth as she bent down between the busy slaves open thighs. "I would not damage her, too much."

"OK. But first I want a week of play," said Chantel as she watched Elisabeth slip her hand between the ebony thighs from behind and begin to explore the delicate flesh.

"Ladies," said Veronica. "It is clear that we are not going to play any poker tonight! I think that Aisha will make a perfect toy for you. Janet's establishment boasts a full complement of facilities, medical, punishment and training. I own a large part of the facility with my friend Irene so you will never have to wait for any desired alteration to this sex slut."

"I shall return in a couple of days to see how you are getting on but for now I'll leave you to enjoy your new property," she added.

Elisabeth and Chantel both heard the door close but they were too busy inspecting their former friend to pay much attention.

"I never thought that it would actually happen," said Elisabeth to Chantel. "Not really, you know, not like this. The idea of a sexy slut who lives to serve my body is such a turn on. I love her plump ass, her massive breasts and her tight waist, she is so fuckable and perfect. She is almost as sexy as you!"

Elisabeth smiled as she moved a finger through Aisha's moist sex. "A few weeks ago I ordered my own slave but it will be a little while before I can take delivery."

******

Elisabeth had left and Chantel was enjoying her new possession.

It was so dreamy having that slow massage with tongue and fingers. Just attention exclusively on her pleasure and delight. She lay back on her bed as her former friend attended to all her sexual needs. First her breasts. Aisha complimented their size and firm form before gently teasing them with lips and teeth.

Then came the massage with scented oil. Pampered and moaning Aisha worked at her owner's body with delicate movement and little tempting tweaks of teeth, lips and fingertips.

Then came her feet and thighs. Aisha massaged the scented oil into the soft flesh and kissed her mistress' feet while she nibbled on her toes. Finally the whole focus was on pussy and ass.

That tongue, long and penetrating. Those slim fingers, probing and manipulating. Lips brushed her attentive flesh to bring Chantel to orgasm after orgasm.

Finally she felt Aisha's lips close on the bud of her ass. They parted to allow ingress, intimate penetration with a firm long tongue that quested inside and massaged her sphincter, seeking nerve clusters and responsive areas. At the same time Aisha used her fingers to massage and penetrate her former friend.

Those skilled fingers found a spot deep inside that Chantel had never felt before. A gathering of sensitivity that pushed her over the edge into a trembling of legs and thighs. The final touch that peeled back the hood on her clitoris and then lightly touched her, left Chantel gasping for air.

Aisha had been trained well. She cooed and complimented Chantel continuously as she worked her magic and best of all was that she had no demands. There was no need to offer pleasure back to her. Aisha was just a tool for pleasure not a lover or a partner. Her skills had been bought and paid for and her needs were satisfied by service.

When Chantel was sated and could take no more. When her trembling had died down and all that was left was a rosy glow she felt Aisha cuddle into her body like a lover to comfort her and help that post orgasmic haze to melt into satisfied sleep.

Chantel lay and enjoyed the feeling of total love and commitment that her bed-slut gave her unconditionally. The owner of the sex-pet stroked her passive victim on the thigh with idle fingers before slapping her sharply on the rear to eject her from the comfort of her owner's bed.

"That was a barely adequate performance Aisha," she said in a disagreeable tone. "We have spent three hours in bed and you have shown me that you are just here for your own satisfaction."

"I am sorry, Chantel," wailed Aisha. "Please tell me what to do to make you happy. You know that I will do anything to please you, anything!"

"I shall decide a suitable punishment for you in the morning. Until then you can sleep on the bathroom floor and spend your night thinking about improving technique, satisfaction and service for the future. I expect a list of ten things that you will improve on and two new pleasures for me to experience in the morning!"

Chantel then chained Aisha to the cast iron leg of the old fashioned bath and went back to bed. As she slipped off into the hazy realms of her fantasy she imagined all the things that she would do to the slave woman who, so many years ago, had humiliated her with that nickname and tittered at her behind her raised hands.

Aisha had made the mistake of insulting her in front of Elisabeth and Veronica. How she would pay in service, pain and degradation. Now, at last, Aisha was going to reap what she had sown.

Chantel nodded off between the silk sheets and contemplated her bright future. She glowed in the compliment that Elisabeth had so generously given. She knew that Elisabeth was a dominant lesbian and cruel with her partners but that was what made her lingerie designs so attractive, that edge of savagery, they had made her a market leader in fetish clothes.

A compliment from Elisabeth was honest and the real thing. 'Perhaps,' she thought to herself as she finally drifted off to sleep, 'she should indulge herself with Elisabeth at sometime in the future?’

There would be chances in the future.

 

*** The Payoff.

Chantel woke with a taste in her mouth and a feeling in her head like she had partied all night and crashed, drunk on the sofa. Slowly she opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the blinding light.

She lay on a double bed. But not hers! Naked on the sheets in a white room in which the metal bed was the only feature. For a moment she shook her head as if to shake the dream from her aching head but all that did was to rattle the chain that ran from her steel collar to the fitting on the frame of the bed.

Looking around she saw the high window that led up a deep barred shaft into the daylight. The riveted door with its spy hole and the bare white walls whose monotony was only broken by the angular lines of the edges of the tiles.

Lifting her head he could see that her limbs were loosely chained to the bed with chains that would have held an angry tiger passive.

Chantel lay back. She could feel the blood coursing her veins in the rhythm of her pounding heart. Fear. A cold sweat sprang from her flesh as she realised that she could only be in one place that she knew of. Veronica and Janet's training facility.

It seemed like hours.

Hours of waiting and fear.

Chantel knew what lay before her. Who better? Had she not ordered the fate of Aisha like a woman selecting from a shopping list? Had she not pored over the possibilities of surgical work that could be done on her victim? How she had procured the work with the cold enjoyment of a revenge seeking bitch?

What would be done? How much would her owner spend? The quarter of a million that she had spent on Aisha had been mostly the training. The surgical adjustments had cost just fifty thousand. But Chantel had seen the list of possibilities, some of which were too terrible for her to contemplate.

A shudder shook her, flinging drops of cold sweat off her shuddering breasts as she saw the list in her mind's eye. Breasts, hips, ass, cunt and face. these were often just the starting points for the expert surgeon that had worked on Aisha.

Tattoos that laced the whole body with obscenities and piercings that were so much more than adornment, they were means of control and pain. Limbs, feet and hands could be altered or even removed.

This was the sinister, immoral world that she had become a part of. Now it looked as though she was to become an intimate piece of the jigsaw puzzle.

Chantel had slithered down a slippery slope without contemplating that the universe that she was joining was not in the least bit under her control, but liable to control her.