The Kiss of Obedience (Day 02)

The morning bell woke me. Though I knew at once where I was, it took a few moments to work out what was happening and what was expected of me. My head was foggy from sleep, and I couldn't yet recall what we were supposed to do other than vacate our beds. I nearly stood up as I rolled off mine, but luckily, I remembered just in time that standing was forbidden. Instead, I crouched next to my mattress. "Present yourselves, properly!" our guard yelled. He glared at me, though I'm sure the other inmates were as confused and befuddled as me. He reminded us that 'properly' in this case meant kneeling by the iron bars at the front of our cages with our knees eighteen inches apart and our hands held behind our heads.

"It's not my job to tell you lot what to do, only to make sure you do it," he added. He walked along the row of cages, glaring at our naked bodies. When he started banging his paddle against the bars, I was worried he might start hitting us with it. He was right, of course -- our two instructrixes had drilled us on our morning routine last night. But to be fair, it usually takes time for such things to become second nature.

The guard wore the same sort of tight crimson uniform as yesterday, but now his breeches were open at the front. His upright cock was sheathed in a padded silk tube of the same colour, and this sheath was held in place against his belly by straps tied around his waist. His balls, however, were left exposed.

Returning to my cage, he put his hand through the bars and took hold of my chin. "Open your mouth, bint," he said. "Have you forgotten that your lips must be kept parted when in the company of your betters?"

"Sorry, Sir," I heard myself whimper.

Then grabbing the back of my head, he pushed my mouth onto his balls. "Aye, give them a good suck and lick," he instructed. Well, there wasn't much else I could do, so I sucked and licked until he unhanded me. "That's a good girl," he then said, his tone now softened a little.

He went along the row of cages and demanded the same from each inmate, stopping only when Mistress Lydia (the taller of our two instructrixes) entered the room and asked him to move away from us. Yesterday, she had been fully dressed, but this morning she had walked into our stable wearing only a little black half-apron which covered her front between her waist and mid-thigh. I also noticed that her lovely chestnut locks were done up at the back in a tight, neat bun. The guard bowed his head when she stepped up to him. She cupped his balls in her hand and kissed his forehead and said, "You may leave us now, Master Tom."

"Very good, my Mistress," he said with another nod. Once alone with us dolls, she looked us over -- we were still kneeling with our hands behind our heads. This position, she told us, was called the First Pose. The lads were already holding this pose to her satisfaction, but she informed us lasses that we should lift our elbows further so that our breasts were raised higher on our chests.

Mistress Lydia then ordered us -- lads and lasses alike -- to turn round and get down on all fours. This, she told us, was the Second Pose. She walked along our cages, telling us to lift our buttocks higher or reposition our knees. When she was happy with what she saw, she made us change our positions again, and this time we lay on our backs with our knees drawn up to our chests. She called this the Third Pose.

Apparently, we will spend much of our waking hours in one of these three primary positions, while remaining completely still with our eyes fixed ahead. We may, if we need to rest, also recline on our beds or on the lawn for a short while. Mistress Lydia told us that we'll quickly learn what pose is most appropriate for any particular situation. It turned out most of today was spent on our hands and knees.

After she opened our cages, she bid only us lasses to come out, and following her instruction, we crawled to the middle of the room where we resumed the First Pose. She went to the lass on my left, stood with her back to her and leaned over so her buttocks were presented to the lass's face. "Kiss the left cheek, then the right, and then put your lips to my arsehole and leave them there until you're told to remove them," she said, her voice quiet and firm. The lass complied.

Mistress Lydia then showed her backside to me. I had already noticed its lushness, and now she was bending over inches from my face, it was even more bewitching -- each buttock perfectly smooth, firm and round as a hard-boiled egg. Her little pink anus, wet with the previous lass's saliva, winked at me. Without needing to be told, I leaned forward and made a kiss on each cheek, then put my open lips squarely on her arsehole. As I kissed, she spoke softly, addressing all of us. "Listen dolls, you will perform the Kiss of Obedience on your masters and mistresses this way each morning and at other times as required," she told us. "You will not hear from us its true meaning -- some of you already know. Those of you who don't, you'll quickly come to your own understanding of it."

After she had received our kisses, she taught us a variation of the First Pose, which was for us lap girls only. While kneeling, but with our knees spread a couple more inches apart, we had to place our left hands on our yonnies. Our right hands remained behind our heads, but with our elbows further towards the ceiling, so giving a graceful tilt to our shoulders.

"Our tradition allows lap girls to masturbate whenever they're in this pose as long as they refrain from showing pleasure on their faces," she said. "It's your decision. It's one of the very few prerogatives we grant a lap lass -- though your new life is dedicated to giving pleasure to others first, giving pleasure to yourselves is still allowed, at least for now."

I'm not sure about the other girls, but I fingered myself -- it helped me feel less tense, and besides, it was hard not to anyway. Behind us, our Mistress attended to the lads. I presume, if I'm still allowed to do such a thing as make a presumption, that they were giving her the Kiss of Obedience as we had done. She then bid us lap girls to adopt the second position again.

We got back on our hands and knees, and once happy with our poses, she commanded the lads to mount us. In no time, one of them was pressing himself against my backside and rubbing his cock between my buttocks. Though following Mistress Lydia's order, he acted with the enthusiasm of someone who had been waiting impatiently for the chance to pounce on me. I wondered who it was -- looking over my shoulder at him wasn't an option because, as our mistress kept reminding us, we had to keep our eyes fixed on the wall opposite. I was aware that this was the first time, since dedicating myself to free use, that someone was using me freely. From now on it's going to happen a lot. As a lap doll, my users will penetrate me as they wish with zero concern for my consent, enjoyment, or desire, so I'd better get accustomed to it sooner than later.

Fortunately, for now at least, my soaking wet yonny was very ready for him -- even before I had started fingering myself, I was ready. The lad's cock glided into me with ease, and he proceeded to give me a truly good seeing to. It was frustrating though -- not only was I sorely tempted to start touching myself again, but I still desired to look back and see who was fucking me. Then, noticing that the hay-covered floor below me seemed comfortable enough, I really wanted to lie flat and feel the lad's whole heaving body on top of mine -- but I continued to hold myself in Second Pose as instructed, knowing our mistress was licensed to use any of the paddles and birch rods hung on the wall in front of me. The lad's strong hands kept squeezing my hips as he fucked, and the way he pistoned his cock in and out of me made me think of the machine-like copulations we had witnessed yesterday in the public fornication chambers. Our instructrix commanded the lads to ejaculate inside us, then wipe their cocks on our buttocks.

Immediately after our morning fornication, we crawled outside, trailing our mistress like a line of ducklings. On the lawn, she commanded us to stand up, then made us do various stretches and callisthenics, before having us run several circuits of the yard. We had barely recovered from this workout, when we had to follow her again. She led us to another building, where in the entrance hall, two servants, who wore only shiny black aprons like Mistress Lydia's, gave us enemas.

Then in an adjoining chamber, other servants, but this time in white tabards, oversaw our breakfast, or First Feeding as they called it. They fed us the same way the night before, with us lined up side by side in First Position, while they inserted pieces of bannock cake into our open mouths. Other servants held up cups of mead to our lips. We kept our hands behind our heads until we were instructed to get back on all fours so we could lap tea from bowls they had placed on the floor. When I first heard that Follywell's dolls were not allowed to use their hands to feed themselves, I wondered how strictly this rule was enforced -- it turns out very.

Before we were escorted back to our yard, we all took a spoonful of some sort of red paste. The servants call it 'pap'. The one who fed me said it contains pulped love berries and mandrake juice and some other stuff I can't now remember. "Be grateful for your daily pap, lap doll," he said. "It will do a power of good for your health and your soul." When he called me a lap doll, it was the first time I felt fully that I was one. The lass I was only a day ago was no more. Now my civic rights and responsibilities have been annulled, I'm entirely helpless -- a mere plaything to be handed from household to household to be used according to my masters' and mistresses' whims.

A little later, Mistress Lydia lined us up on the lawn and resumed our instruction. Today, the focus was on our anuses. She paired me off with a lad and told me to put my mouth to his arsehole and give it a good kiss. I did so out of duty at first, but with my face jammed up against his taut, muscular buttocks, I couldn't help but be aroused, and soon I was entirely lost in making my kiss. When my Mistress was satisfied that I had kissed his hole like I would a lover's mouth, she had the lad and me switch places. For what seemed like an hour, we kept on like this until our Mistress instructed us to start using our fingers. Taking turns, we thrust, wriggled and churned our fingers in each other's backsides.

After the noon bell, Mistress Lydia had us line up and present our backsides to her. Going along the line, she tested our arseholes with her own fingers. She then told two lads and two lasses to go to the edge of the lawn and kneel in First Pose. The remaining dolls, including me, stayed on our hands and knees. Four male servants joined us on the lawn -- all stout, burly lads. Ignoring the kneeling dolls, they headed straight for us, unbuttoning their breeches as they approached. As soon as they got behind us, they went to work on our rear ends. The servant who took me buggered me good and proper. He didn't have much trouble getting inside -- the last couple of hours prepared me well. I've been having lads occasionally fuck my arse for a few months now (pretty much since I arrived in Follywell) but this was the first time it really felt good to have a big stiff cock stuffed up there.

Maybe because they had other duties to attend to, all four servant lads were quick with us -- mine reached his climax inside me in just a couple of minutes of vigorous thrusting. Following Mistress Lydia's instruction, I turned around and cleaned his cock with my mouth while keeping my hands on the ground. Still looking at his now semi-flaccid cock -- not once did I look up at his face -- I said, "Thank you for using me, Sir." My words came out smaller and more pathetic than I intended. The lad ruffled my hair. A wave of joy passed through me, and for a moment I was genuinely grateful.

At dusk, we were returned to our stable and given our second feeding. Then they locked us in our cages again. Though the lights have been dimmed, there's still enough light to write. We have been informed that at midnight, the lights will be dimmed further, but not put out completely. This, I suppose, is so the guards can carry on keeping an eye on us. I don't think there's been a single moment today when we haven't been watched by the Abbey staff, and I guess they will carry on doing so throughout the night.

Before writing today's entry, I had a long chat with the blond lad in the cage next to mine. We were careful to speak in whispers -- our guard is still nearby. Even if someone raises their voice a little, he bangs his paddle on the bars of our cages. The blond lad was one of those who was buggered alongside me, though funnily enough, we didn't compare notes. Instead, we had a somewhat abstract conversation about the nature of true service. I remember this lad having long curly locks when we arrived yesterday. Now his hair is untidily cropped short like my own. He told me he had recently finished his studies at the University of Adocentyn -- I'm impressed, though of course, it shouldn't mean anything now he's been made a lap boy. No one will ask his learned opinion about anything unless perhaps it's another lap doll who's doing the asking. After a while, our conversation dried up a little, but instead of thinking up more things to say, I lowered my head and sucked his cock through the bars. Afterwards, he fingered me, then we kissed goodnight.

(Kay Callovan, 2021-2026)