The following is a work of total fiction and intended solely for consumption by those legally of age and where ADULT MATERIAL is permitted. Strong subject matter is contained and is for those not easily offended by such. Any reuse of the material without the author's express consent is strongly discouraged. Thank you and enjoy. Faibhar Dawn's Conversion Life for Dawn changed following her first to Klub Knoir (see "New Slave Dawning"). Soreness around her pussy lip and nipples caused by the piercings transformed into excitement. Her shiny rust-brown strands grew longer, on Monday Wednesday and Fridays gave herself enemas and shaved all of her body every other day. Her roommate and best friend Suzanne insisted that she wear dresses to her job at the design agency. The men and women she worked were quick to notice the change in clothes, but she paid them no heed. She forbade Dawn to wear any underwear, and that meant stockings too. Suzanne said she was to come back to the condo immediately from the office, strip and cook Suzanne dinner. Mornings Suzanne ordered her to take tanning sessions to lessen her tan lines. Evenings were spent running on the treadmill set up in the living room. Her nipple rings would be linked to the handlebars by thin chains. As the speed increased, they would tug and jerk at her breasts. As Suzanne's new slave, Dawn felt her workouts further leaning out her figure. Each night following the sessions her senses would be acute and she would beg to service her mistress. Most nights her wish would be granted. Suzanne also purchased two dog dishes and following her dinner would cuff Dawn's wrists behind her back and have her eat simple concoctions from one bowl and lap water from the other. Watching her pet sup was entertaining, at first, but she quickly grew bored. The treadmill workouts were somewhat more entertaining, and watching her slave's sleek body glisten as it ran in place always delighted. Dawn's heart beat rapidly in anticipation as one Saturday night she was prepared. She knew it would be her second trip to Klub Knoir. She lifted her chin to stretch her neck as Suzanne fastened the simple collar. Her first hint that something was up came when Suzanne ordered her to put on the sheer thigh high stockings. Watching her reflection in the dressing room mirror, Dawn pulled her shoulders back as the black collar was locked. It contrasted perfectly with her skin. The light makeup and tangerine lip gloss added to her sexiness. She watched as Suzanne pulled her hair back and fashion a single braid. "Call and leave a message at work that you want your two week vacation to start on Monday." Dawn started to protest. Short notice for vacations was not approved of at the agency, but her eyes watered as Suzanne pulled her hair back to emphasize the point. "Well, slave?" "Yes...mistress." She didn't cry as the pressure on her roots was eased. "Put these on." Dawn bent to see her feet. Suzanne threw down two shoes she had never seen before. Their red patent leather shined. Each had thick ankle straps, but the stiletto heels looked too sharp and impossibly long. She was confused. Calling for a vacation was one thing-Dawn knew Suzanne had other plans for her than just enjoying time off-but the sight of the strange shoes almost made her balk. Another yank on her hair reminded her to obey. Using a hand on the vanity counter to steady herself, Dawn slipped her feet into the heels. She wobbled. Her bent and cramped feet immediately hurt. Instinctively, she knew the pain was all part of the submissive she had become. The shoes also further defined her long legs and tightened her ass. She put on both shoes and stood facing the mirror. "There you are. See? You're taller than your mistress now. Here's your trench coat. Let's go." Suzanne wore a long gauzy black gown with black platform calf boots. Underneath she wore a leather bustier with buckles and rivets. Matching gloves covered her hands. Brunette hair coiled as it flowed over her back. A faint cloud of sexy perfume trailed her. Naked under the raincoat with just her rings, stockings and the wobbly shoes, Dawn followed Suzanne out the condo door. How could she forget? The second room in the club looked familiar, but it was empty and there were no strobes or spotlights like before. It looked like any ordinary and empty room. She continued behind Suzanne to the third door marked Torture Chamber. They stopped before it opened. Suzanne removed Dawn's coat and hooked her wrists to her collar. Dawn almost strutted as the "Oohs" and "Ahhs" greeted her. The murmurs she knew were directed toward her and she felt all eyes flowing her every movement. She was happy they approved. She thrust out her swaying breasts. This room was about the same size as the other but was softly lit by burning wax. Flickering flames revealed the many men and women gathered. Dawn also saw that the elaborate throne this night was occupied. She faced the seated figure wearing the cape and peculiar face mask. Alternating shadows crossed its sculpted contours. She did as Suzanne had instructed and lowered her eyes but could not help but think the mask looked like some huge and enraged owl. She heard a voice say that the slave was physically beautiful. In her heart the compliment made her smile. Dawn felt herself slowly turned around, bent forward, ass spread, and then straightened to again be turned to face the stranger. The head and mask that looked like an angry bird nodded in the direction of the rack. "Your aureolae are too small and blend too well with the rest of your skin, but that is easily remedied. Your nipples, however, are pleasingly long." Dawn lay on the wooden rack on her back, wrists and ankles secured. Her auburn hair pooled under her head. The mysterious masked figure loomed to her side. She looked up expectantly at the person. "Remove her nipple rings." Suzanne watched from the shadows as Dawn was stretched upon the rack. When the master ordered the shiny rings removed, she did not know what to think. She wasn't sure what the man had in mind, but did know he was also a chemical engineer. That connection might come into play. Suzanne kept her eyes on the scene and thoughtfully sipped from the glass of red wine. "We will begin by adding more contrast around the slave's nipples." All in the room hushed and gathered closer around the rack as they saw one of the master's gloved hands select a small razor. "These are lovely," he said as he fondled one full breast with its protruding nipple. "But see if you do not like the difference." Dawn strained her neck. She perspired. The stranger loomed closer and she saw the blade as he gripped her left breast. She bit her lower lip as she felt the shallow cut etch a small circle. By the time the second circle was scratched onto her, her chest was heaving up and down. Sweat streamed down her chest, mingling with rivulets of scarlet. Only her butt and upper shoulders touched the surface of the rack. A whirlpool of eyes swam above and around her. "Now that what had before no longer blends with the rest of the tan, we can begin enlarging the circles." Dawn felt a cool hand rested on her sunken tummy. She blinked her lashes more and saw that the master was addressing the room-not her. In his gloved hand he no longer held the razor. The fingers held a compress. "This soaked cotton contains chelatod liquid caustic soda. Call it lye, or whatever. For our purposes here it is highly diluted but retains many corrosive properties. It's colorless and odorless and the slave might not even immediately notice its effects, but believe me, she soon will." The white of Dawn's eyes grew as she, too, listened. She sucked in a breath as the wet cotton was taped onto one of her breasts. The man was right: all she felt was coldness. She closed her eyes and felt a second icy patch taped on top of her other breast. "Let's let that sit awhile." A tiny stab of fire burst. More stabs followed. Heat replaced cold. Flames grew and blasted deep into her chest. The conflagration soon engulfed her. Dawn screamed out as blazes heightened. "You did well tonight," Suzanne said as the two of them huddled in the rear seat of the cab on their way back to their condo. Her words were meant to sooth, but Dawn wasn't so sure. Shivers under the trench coat continued despite tightly wrapping arms around her ribs. Tears wet her face as she looked out the cab's windows at the city streets zooming by. Fucking the torture room at Klub Knoir was one thing, but screwing with her tits with that acid or whatever could have gotten her killed. Her inflamed nipples still burned, despite them being washed and oiled. "But, I imagine you'll need a couple of days to rest. Don't forget, in two weeks is the field trip... and you're to be the star attraction. Now, drama queen slave of mine, give your mistress a kiss." The couple in the back locked in an embrace as the cab accelerated up California.
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