The Prankster Ch. 01

"I think we should rename her. I'm not comfortable calling this slave Angela when she does not behave like her."

"Very wise, sir. A new name will reinforce the slave's status upon it. What would you call it?"

Angela listened incredulously, still sobbing from the vicious beating she had received. They were going to rename her? Why? Plus what was with the calling her it? Does a slave not deserve a personal pronoun?

I am no longer a person. I am a slave. I have no rights, for I am nothing but property.

Perhaps I don't.

"I don't want to name her something rude, in case I find I have to shout it out to attract her attention," ruminated her Master. "That could prove embarrassing for me, let alone her. So that rules out calling her Cunt or Twat."

"Both excellent names for a slave, in my opinion, sir."

"Really? I don't think so... Hmm, we could name her slave... Or girl, but... Oh, I know! From now on her name is Toy. She is my plaything, so she is called Toy."

"Yes, sir, Toy it is." Vicky slapped the bound slave on the backside. "Did you hear that slave? Your name is now Toy. It is the name you will answer to, from now on. Angela is gone. You are called Toy. Use or give the name Angela ever again and you will be punished. Punished in a way you don't like you masochistic slut. Nod if you understand."

Toy nodded.

"Good girl," praised Vicky as she knelt and released Toy's ankles from the spreader bar. Taking her leash, Mistress led the newly named slave back to her owner.

"Kneel, and thank your owner for your discipline, Toy."

Instinctively, though not certain it was what was required of her, Toy started licking her owner's feet once more. No one complained or stopped her, so she assumed she had guessed right and continued.

"Okay, Vicky, take Toy away and secure her for the night. Then come back here. I'd like to chat about the slave's future."

"Certainly, sir," responded Mistress hauling Toy back onto her haunches by her leash, before grabbing the slave's upper arm and helping her to rise.

Once on her feet, a tug on the leash and Toy teetered after her Mistress. She was led to the kitchen and instructed to kneel.

Bewildered at the speed of events Toy was trying to take stock when Mistress bent down and inserted a clear plastic tube in through the gag. Slowly but insistently she fed it in until it reached the back of her throat. Toy retched.

"Swallow it, slave," ordered Mistress.

Timidly Toy complied, catching the no-nonsense tone of the dominatrix. The tube continued its journey until Toy was certain Mistress had the thing all the way to her stomach.

Toy then watched as her captor attached a large syringe, which looked about a pint, to the exposed end of the tube. As soon as it was attached the plunger was depressed and the milky fluid within snaked down the tube until out of sight and presumably into her digestive system.

Once empty the syringe was replaced with another that was filled with a clear fluid. This too was injected down the tube.

Then Mistress slowly pulled the tube out. The end of it tasted of bile, confirming her guess it had reached her stomach.

"That, slave, was your dinner," informed Mistress. "Nothing to do with you being a slave. Your mouth is out of action, hence the tube. The fluid was a meal substitute that will meet your dietary needs and reduce your production of faeces. Which, in turn, will reduce the stress on your plugged and stretched anus."

Victoria squatted down in front of the kneeling slave so they were face to face. She smiled before pinching the latex under Toy's left eye. She pulled it away from Toy's face and the tears pooled there ran down her face to her mouth, clearing her vision. Mistress repeated the action to the other eye.

Standing up, and ignoring the act of kindness just performed, she continued, "Of course, being fed that way is humiliating, mechanical, demeaning and wholly appropriate for a slave slut such as you, Toy. You will taste nothing but cum and rubber from now on. This reinforces your new status as an object or thing. People eat, you, as a slave, are refuelled. You will be maintained, serviced and cleaned. You will be trained, taught and programmed. You will submit, serve and obey. Stand up, slave."

Without help, Toy managed to struggle to her feet by leaning against a kitchen cabinet. As soon as she stood, her leash was grabbed and she was led upstairs.

On entering the guest bedroom, Toy caught her first glimpse of the vacuum bed. The Professor had explained it as a device that would enable air pressure to help compress her during sleep to guard against the bacteria in her blood.

The reality was both more mundane, and alarming. The single bed in the room had been stood on its end in front of the window to make room. The vacuum bed stood in the space vacated by the usual item.

It consisted of a rectangular frame of about six feet by four. Over that frame, a black latex envelope had been stretched. Down one side of the envelope, an open zip revealed access to the space between the sheets of latex.

The frame was supported on either side by two A-frames whose apexes connected at the midpoint of the long sides of the rectangle. It was obvious the rectangular frame could swivel where it met the A-frames. Thus whoever was placed within the latex envelope could then be tipped either forwards or backward, or even turned upside down.

From the bottom corner of the frame, a black corrugated hose, similar to the hose of a vacuum cleaner, snaked away to a large white box. On top of this box was a docked iPad, its screen blank, reflecting the ceiling light.

"Climb in, Toy," instructed Mistress as she removed the leash from Toy's collar. "Be careful you don't tear the latex with your boots. Step on the thicker back sheet only. Once in, you will find a breathing tube. Insert it into your gag, then place your arms by your sides."

Toy saw that there was a small step on the floor just behind the latex frame. Carefully she slid a leg within the latex envelope, and then by pressing back, was able to stand upon the step. She then slid the rest of herself within the vacuum bed and, now completely blind in the lightless space, groped for the promised breathing tube. Finding it, she dutifully obeyed and placed her arms at her sides.

What happens now? She wondered just as Mistress sealed the zip and trapped her slave inside. Then a deep hum preceded the sheets of latex drawing together as the air in the envelope was extracted. Toy could not see this, but she felt its effects. The sheet behind her would have toppled her from her toes in the ballet boot had not the front sheet not glued her in place, like a fly caught on flypaper. It mounded itself to her perfectly, rendering her utterly immobile.

The rubber sheet pressed down on her face, her chest, and her crotch. It trapped her legs, her arms and her hands. She literally could not move. She had been vacuum packed, just like a joint of gammon, on a supermarket shelf. She was completely enclosed in two layers of latex rubber. Helpless, vulnerable and exposed. It was all she could do to breathe.

Panic started to rise within her. Toy felt it start to take a grip and fought back. I'm safe, I can breathe, be calm.

It was so dark. She was blind. She could not feel, well nothing but squeezing rubber. She could not smell, the tubes in her nose bypassed her olfactory receptors. She could not hear unless her Mistress permitted her to. Even then, she only heard what her Mistress allowed her to. She could not taste, well once again nothing but rubber. Her mouth was full and stretched by the latex gag strapped in place.

Total sensory deprivation.

"Comfy in there, Toy?" Mistress's voice boomed through the earpieces. "I must say you look stunning from out here."

What do I look like? Wondered Toy. Han Solo-esque when trapped in carbonite?

"So this is where we will be storing you, to get over your bug, my dear. Obviously, it's going to be a little dull for you. But we can work this into your new status of slave and sex toy."

Toy futilely tried to move. She could barely bend a finger.

"Are you trying to wriggle about in there, Toy? I'd not bother if I were you. You're stuck fast until released, and you are in there until tomorrow morning at least."

All night? I'll go mad!

"So this can be the punishment I mentioned earlier while you were getting all smart-arsed masochistic under the whip. Being put away in total sensory deprivation. You can lose yourself in there, slave."

The panic started to fight its way up from her stomach once more.

"But so long as you are a good girl, do as you are told, submit totally and obey unconditionally, I can make this necessity tolerable, even fun."

As Mistress uttered the word 'fun' Toy felt a hand on her sex. Warm and gentle it lightly stroked the smooth rubber skin moulded around her vulva.

Vicky smirked as the trapped slave trembled in its rubber prison. A more natural submissive she had never encountered. The slave's reactions made up her mind. She was making this one her own. Now, how to deal with the boy?