Mistress Kathy's Slave Catalog Ch. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter begins a sequel to "Mistress Kathy's Academy" and is the eighth chapter in the overall series.

An excerpt from Adam's Sub Journal:

May 9

First, notice that I'm calling this a "sub journal" instead of a slave journal. Being a sub sounds more like a choice than an obligation. BDSM has always been a fascination of mine, and being a bottom is the choice I've made.

Writing a journal, however, is my mistress's idea. She says it's traditional for a sub to write his thoughts so that his mistress may have a written account of his innermost feelings. Most girlfriends just ask, "What are you thinking?" but our relationship is special.

She also thinks this is a good way for me to work out my feelings regarding the traumatic adventure we both survived five months ago.

By "adventure," I'm referring to the harrowing four days (it seemed longer) that I spent at Mistress Kathy's Academy of Domination and Submission. It began when Monica, my former girlfriend and mistress, signed a series of contracts she didn't read containing hidden commitments to a "school" with an academic tradition of sexual slavery. It ended with her becoming trapped there, and me only narrowly escaping—with help from my new mistress, Eve, the only person I know who believes my story.

Eve, of course, spent much more time on the island than I did and suffered much rougher treatment. Perhaps reading this journal will help her as well. So far, she seems reluctant to talk about her own experience there.

Okay, I admit that's a hint. I hope someday she'll be ready to tell me how she arrived on the island a mistress and ended up an enslaved pony girl.

Since having had this shared traumatic experience, my new mistress and I have bonded (don't laugh) in a way I never thought possible. What I used to have with Monica was thrilling, but it was mostly sex. Eve and I, on the other hand, shared an experience no one else will ever understand, and that has cemented our relationship in a powerful mutual trust.

We're in love. We both know it.

Not that I've forgotten about Monica or her captivity on that island. I've pursued official channels to try to get her (and others like her) out of that terrible place, but with no success.

It turns out the State Department does not believe the Academy is a real place. No island of the type I've described exists, they say. The Academy is an internet hoax, they insist. Monica left the country of her own free will, they presume, and she probably doesn't want to be found.

It doesn't help that I can't prove my story. Although the Academy has regular customers, it seems that repeat customers keep their patronage secret. While I was there, none of them shared anything more than their first names with me, making it impossible to find anyone on the mainland who can corroborate my story. It seems the very nature of the Academy is motivation enough to keep repeat customers silent, and new customers are thoroughly screened to keep out those who ask the wrong questions. A few bloggers know rumors of the place, but even they are skeptical.

I've kept copies of every letter I've sent to authorities and of the correspondences I've had on the blogs about the subject.

My new mistress urges me to give up this pursuit. She says the Academy has been doing this for too long, knows too many tricks, has too many resources. She says I mustn't blame myself for what happened to Monica, that it's out of my hands, and that what happened to her is mostly her own fault anyway.

It's hard to argue that last point. I don't know what I could have done differently when I was on the island, yet I can't help wondering.

Meanwhile, Eve and I have continued to pursue our fascination with BDSM, despite the promises we made to each other to give it up. My new mistress's natural tendency toward sexual dominance and my willingness to submit to it have ultimately proved irresistible.

Eve says it's the lingering effect of our time on the island. She doesn't claim to understand it, but she says there's something about the place that changes people, enhancing their natural sexual tendencies and amplifying them. Apparently, the effect persists even after we leave.

That explains a few things—like why Eve and I have been unable to keep our hands off each other since our return, why I seem to be in the best physical shape of my life, and why women I know are acting differently around me, as if I'm suddenly more interesting than before.

And there's something else. I wouldn't mention this, but my mistress insists that I write it here.

My dick is bigger. She constantly teases me about it.

Enough about that.

Even after what's happened, Eve wants to interact with other couples like ourselves. I guess I do, too—but I'm afraid. Can you blame me?

Eve assures me that it's safe to embrace our lifestyle again. That there are real people who practice BDSM safely within caring relationships. That there is a better way to follow our passions than the brutal and reckless way taught at the Academy.

And she says it's time for me to test the waters and leave the sanctuary of our home. "What's the point in having a sub if you can't show him off once in a while?" she asks me. So she wants to take me to a fetish club—out of town, where we won't be recognized.

And she wants to introduce me to a friend of hers—Mistress Tina. She's a domme Eve met after our escape from the island. They trust each other, and they meet from time to time to shop for hard-to-find leather goods and discuss all things mistressy. Mistress Tina has her own sub (who's beautiful, I'm told) whom she wants us to meet, and they've decided that a bondage-themed night club is the perfect place for all of us to be introduced to each other.

I admit I'm nervous. But my mistress is always right, or so she tells me.

* * *

Adam knew that his mistress wouldn't like him writing so much about his ex-girlfriend in his journal, but Eve had said that writing it would help him work through his feelings, and his ex was at the center of the emotional knot he felt whenever he thought about the island.

Eve was going through her own adjustment phase, and Adam did what he could to help her through it. Before she'd moved in with him, Adam had hidden all the pictures of Monica that he'd had in his home. Eve was the jealous type and never apologized for it. He didn't know how she would react to seeing pictures of his former mistress and decided not to put the matter to a test.

This could have annoyed him, but he understood Eve's quirks. He even found them kind of sexy. Great sex helped make up for the control issues. Eve's time at the Academy had trained her well in such matters, and now she was training him.

He was even starting to look forward to their weekend getaway.

In the tower above the bondage club, he was impressed by the size of the room Mistress Tina had arranged for them.

"When do we meet them?" Adam asked his mistress as they settled in.

"They're coming on a later flight, so they're going to meet us downstairs at The Club," Eve explained. "That gives us plenty of time to get ready to meet them." As she said this, she opened Adam's suitcase on the bed.

"Hey, that's not what I packed."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "I took the liberty of repacking it for you. Complaints?"

Adam had wondered why his bag was so heavy. Now he knew it contained more cuffs, clasps and chains than he had packed—and fewer clothes. Eve had already started the game.

"No complaints," he said. He always liked her games.

"Good boy," she complimented. "I have a few surprises in here, including a variety of outfits for you to choose from." She pulled out a series of fetishy shorts and trunks he had never seen before. "I'll let you choose which one you want to wear."

"I'll take these," he said, choosing the one which offered the most coverage.

"I knew you'd pick that one. I shouldn't have packed it." She smiled as she put the other outfits back in the suitcase. "I generously let you choose your own outfit, so tonight, if someone comments on what you're wearing, you must now volunteer that you picked it out yourself. Understand?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Now here's what's going to happen next. You're going to shower. Then I'm going to help you get ready. For what I have in mind, you'll need a little help. Then you're going to sit quietly while I shower and get ready. That will take a while longer, but if you're good, I'll turn on some music while you wait. I may even mix you a cocktail which you may drink with a straw."

"Why a straw?"

"I think you know why."

He did—and he looked forward to it.

Two hours later, as he was finishing his drink, Eve emerged from the bathroom in a sparkly short cocktail dress. She posed for him, leaning against a table and crossing her perfect legs.

As stunning as she was, her clothes were more subdued than his. The mirror on the wall reminded him how his spandex shorts gripped his butt, and he didn't need reminding how tightly his latex straitjacket kept his arms pulled behind his back.

She said she's been waiting to show me off, he thought. Good thing I trust her.

"No dominatrix suit for you?" he asked out loud.

"I'm tired of that old thing," she admitted. "It's too much like my pony suit. You're the one who needs to make a good first impression on our new friends." She picked out a ball gag for him.

"We won't need that," he said.

"We won't need it," she agreed, "but it flatters you, so it's part of the outfit." Mercifully, she allowed the gag to hang around his neck.

Finally she attached a leash to his collar and gave it a little tug. "A tug means I want a kiss," she reminded him.

He kissed her. She held him close to her body. They enjoyed each other's warmth.

Eve let go and took a step back. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous," said Adam. "Like a million bucks."

"You look helpless and sexy," she said pulling him toward the door. "Perfect."

Once in the elevator, she tugged his leash again. They kissed, and she playfully backed him against the wall as she held him.

"Are you excited?" she asked.

"Let's not get carried away before we get there," he said.

"But I want to get carried away. You make me want to."

She started to shamelessly fondle him as the elevator doors reopened revealing a pair of hotel staffers smartly dressed in skirts and blazers. Eve abruptly stopped when she saw their polite smiles.

"We were just role-playing," Eve said with an embarrassed grin.

"Of course," the staffers said knowingly. "You're going to The Club. It's just down the hall." They helpfully pointed the way.

Adam and Eve passed through the lobby. The jealous smiles of the hotel staffers suggested they regretted that their duties didn't allow them to join the fun.

"See?" Eve said. "No one's judging us here."

Adam smiled back at her. He didn't even mind the stares from passersby and felt strangely safe under Eve's protection.

They saw other partygoers on their way to The Club. Some were dressed in traditional party clothes like Eve while others were wearing wild fetish attire like Adam. Eve and her sub appeared mismatched—as she had no doubt planned. She tried to give the impression that she'd wandered in from the street and had picked out the slave she liked best.

Inside the club, the music was loud and the lighting was synchronized to its beat. The partiers seemed energized by the atmosphere and each other. It was already difficult to see an empty table, so Eve led Adam directly to the bar.

She ordered a margarita and billed it to the room. "I'll let you share my drink, since you don't have hands," Eve promised. "We'll hang out on the dance floor until we see a table open up."

Naturally, she expected Adam to dance with her, which he did to her amusement. He was rewarded with sips from her drink and gentle slaps to his bottom. A crowd had gathered on the dance floor, and Adam and Eve seemed to be the center of attention.

"He's cute!" another dancer said to Eve. "And his outfit's so daring!"

Eve glared expectantly at Adam.

"I picked it out myself," Adam obeyed.

Eve smiled devilishly. She spotted a table and tugged Adam through the crowd to get to it. "Isn't this fun?" she asked as they walked across the dance floor.

He admitted that it was.

"Do you want another sip?"

"No, I'm good. But if you don't mind, could you pull my pants back up?"

Eve was shocked to see half of Adam's ass exposed. "Who did that to you?"

"I thought you did."

She pulled up his pants and spanked him once reproachfully. "Naughty! I see I underestimated you! Now sit down. You obviously have quite an effect on people!"

The moment they sat down, they saw a pair of latex-clad women hovering over them. "I see we were heading toward the same empty table as you were," said the newcomer in the dominatrix costume. Her girlfriend in the purple vinyl straitjacket teetered awkwardly by her side.

The expectant looks from the new couple were too awkward to ignore. "You can join us until our friends arrive," Eve invited. "Or until another table opens up."

The dominant woman sat down next to Eve, but the other continued to stand.

"Ah," said the woman. "She thinks I'm testing her. I told her not to mingle with other people's slaves unless she's been properly introduced."

"A sensible policy," agreed Eve.

"I'm Mistress Dagmar, and this is my slave Zoe."

"I'm Mistress Eve. This is my sub Adam."

Dagmar burst out laughing. "I get it! Adam and Eve! That's so precious!"

The slave Zoe smiled, but continued to stand and to stare.

"Very good, Zoe!" Dagmar commended. "I told her not to mingle with other people's slaves unless she's been properly introduced. By my instructions, that requires a kiss. If your slave doesn't offer her a kiss, she'll be required to stand."

"Isn't a kiss considered mingling?" asked Eve.

"Not if it's freely offered by the other party. The rules I've given my slave are very complicated. I keep trying to trip her up by thinking up new ones."

"What if my sub's not allowed to kiss other subs?"

"Ah, that would be a dilemma! Poor Zoe would have to stand. But don't let it bother you. She understands."

Eve made an exaggerated show of thinking about the problem while Zoe made a pouty face.

"Oh, go ahead," said Eve. "I know you want to."

Obediently Adam stood up before Zoe. Neither of them had the freedom of using their hands or arms, so Adam tentatively pursed his lips as he approached her. She pressed her mouth against his, but didn't stop there. She pressed her entire body against him in a way that made him involuntarily step backwards until his back was against a wall. Then she continued to grind her torso aggressively against him until Dagmar pulled her back.

"That's enough," instructed Dagmar.

"What was that?" asked Eve indignantly.

"A proper introduction," replied Dagmar with a grin. "She did it correctly."

Eve got up from her seat and tugged angrily on Adam's leash. "We're finding a different table," she announced, and led him away.

Adam heard Dagmar congratulate her slave for passing her test.

When out of earshot, Eve told Adam, "Stop it right now."

"Stop what?" he asked.

"You know what," she replied. "You're doing it on purpose."

"Doing what?"

"Encouraging people to take advantage of you."

"How am I doing that? How could I do that?"

"By enjoying it so much! Don't deny it!"

He couldn't deny that part of him was enjoying it since she could see it bulging, but he couldn't see how it was his fault or what he could have done to prevent it.

"This was your idea," he reminded her.

"You're still doing it!" she insisted. "The more you act all helpless and innocent, the more it drives me crazy, and if you don't stop it right now, I'll slap you!"

"Do it!" said a complete stranger at a nearby table. Other women around her giggled.

For a moment Adam thought she would. Then Eve looked away, and it seemed that a wave of awareness had washed over her. She looked at the floor, and then back at him.

"I don't know what just came over me," Eve said. "You're right, of course. Seeing you like this—in this place—makes me horny as hell, and I just didn't think that others might see you the way I did." She put her arms around him.

"It's not just me they're reacting to," said Adam. "The other subs in the room are staring at you—and wishing they were me."

She smiled, and some of her old attitude came back. "Apology accepted. Tina should be here soon, and I need to pee. How about you?"

He did, too. She undid his straitjacket so he could use the bathroom unassisted. Minutes later, he emerged from the men's room and found Eve with her cell phone in her hand.

"That was Tina," she said, putting the phone away. "She'll be here in a minute. I need to make you presentable for her."

Adam allowed her to reapply his straitjacket. Then she ordered him to open his mouth for the ball gag.

"You said we wouldn't need the gag," he said.

"We don't need the gag. We want the gag. The gag was always part of the plan."

"You didn't say—"

"I said it was part of your outfit—that it flatters you. Think of how much more flattering it will be when Mistress Tina sees it in your mouth. Open."

Adam opened his mouth, and the gag was inserted and secured.

Eve inspected the straps before leading Adam confidently across the dance floor. "Remember, I haven't met Tina's sub yet, and she hasn't met mine. She said that her sub would be tightly tied and gagged for this meeting, so you'll have to be tied and gagged just as tight. Otherwise Tina might think her slave is better trained than mine."

Adam could say nothing now, but continued to follow his mistress across the dance floor. It was considerably more crowded than before, and it was hard to ignore the hands that groped his butt as he walked.

Eve stopped and scanned the crowd for a sign of Tina. Then she called out, "Over here!"

Adam was so shocked by what he saw next, he might have screamed were it not for the gag. The dominatrix who called herself Mistress Tina was someone Adam already knew—someone who couldn't possibly be here.

"There you are!" exclaimed Monica, his former mistress, who was inexplicably before them smiling devilishly. "And you must be Adam! Eve has told me so much about you!"

* * *

FIVE MONTHS EARLIER (IN A VERY DIFFERENT PLACE):

Excerpts from the slave diary of Monica the Pony:

First entry

this is my slave diary

mistres says this will be my daily hobby

i am so luky

mistress says most ponys dont get to have hobbys but takes long time

with hooves for hands

so hard to type with nose

it hurts

i luv my mistress

pony

Second entry

this is my second entry

i must type as mistres spanks me

she says i must learn to luv my hobby

i say i do

she says i dont luv it enough keep typing

i luv my mistres

pony

Eighth entry

i dont know what day it is

mistress says ponys dont get calenders

i ask how long i must keep my diary

she says until i can type it without crying

i say its not tears but only drool

but she knows I am lying

luv my mistress

pony

Twenty-third entry

today i askd mistres to please stop hurting me

she says more discipline is required

i askd what does she want from me

she says im already doing it

i ask why she treats me so meanly

she says because adam left me here

i am to have his punishmnt