Planning a charity ball#

Back in the present, Mara reached the café where Philippe was waiting. It was a modern place with outdoor seating, and the specially shaped women’s chairs were clearly visible. Her belt’s corrections stopped as soon as she came close enough for Philippe’s phone to pick up her iGuardian’s signature. Mara curtsied in greeting, her body trembling slightly from the exertion and the corrections. Philippe stood to greet her with a smile.

He did not mention her lateness. The iGuardian had already delivered the necessary correction. His phone had notified him when it began, but he had chosen to leave it in discipline mode a while longer. It would keep Mara silent and exact, correcting even the smallest deviation from protocol. It would do her good to be reminded, from time to time, of the expected behavior.

He rose and motioned for her to sit opposite him, making sure she had a clear view of him. As Mara sat, the back of her corset locked into the matching braces of the women’s chair, securing her in place. At Philippe’s gesture, a waitress approached and connected a feed bag to the adapter on Mara’s mask so she could receive nourishment.

Philippe’s meal arrived shortly afterward, and he began to eat. He glanced at Mara with warm attentive eyes.

“We need to discuss the upcoming charity ball,” he said, his tone both businesslike and affectionate. “It is the annual Green Gala, raising funds for the Ecological Preservation Fund.”

Mara signed her reply.

Yes, Sir. I have been coordinating with organizing committee. We secured several important guests, including national and international celebrities. She added, Theme this year is Nature’s Elegance, pointing to ecological awareness.

Philippe nodded, pleased.

“Good. Who are the key attendees?”

Mara signed, We have confirmations from Sir William Lemieux’s Helena, the well-known environmental scientist, and Lord Hargreaves, the philanthropist, with his ward Caroline. Internationally, we secured Tom Holland and his ward Zendaya. Their presence will draw significant media attention.

Philippe smiled.

“Excellent work, Mara. These guests will help ensure the event’s success. Is there anyone else we should consider?”

Mara hesitated briefly before signing.

Met old acquaintance today, Henry Serrurier’s Sonia from GAIA. She specializes in viral diseases. Given ecological focus, her expertise could be relevant. Might be beneficial include her guardian and her on guest list.

Philippe considered that.

“Extend an invitation to Henry Serrurier and his ward. Your judgment has proven reliable.”

He glanced at her feed bag, noting how low it was getting. He knew Mara needed to gain a little weight, but he also knew the constraints of her corset required small, frequent feedings.

As the bag neared empty, he signaled the waitress.

“Please disconnect the feed bag and clean the adapter.”

The waitress complied, detaching the bag and wiping the adapter clean. Mara remained motionless, posture perfect, eyes fixed on Philippe.

He resumed the conversation.

“I am glad you met Sonia again. Connections like hers are valuable. Make sure she feels welcomed and appreciated. Your network is a great asset, Mara.”

Mara’s hands moved in fluid hand-dancing.

Thank you, Sir. I will make sure Henry Serrurier and his ward receive proper invitation. Grateful for your trust and support.

Philippe’s smile softened, and he touched her gloved hand gently.

“You have earned it, Mara. Continue to do so, and we will achieve great things together.”

As always, when Philippe praised her, a wave of arousal moved through her. She relaxed into her corset, closed her eyes behind the mask, and let herself enjoy the feeling.

When they were both finished, Philippe asked for the bill, paid it, and rose. He took out a ward handle, a small grip he could attach to control Mara more directly. He released her from the chair and helped her to her feet, then clicked the handle into the connector at the small of her back. She moved in small careful steps, her skirt and boots allowing little else.

“Let us go,” he said softly, guiding her by the handle at her back and indicating the exit.

Outside, he signaled for an electric cab. The driver hurried over and opened the door while Philippe disconnected the handle. He helped Mara inside, guiding her to kneel on the fempad’s cushion with her back toward the front. He clicked her corset adapter into the fempad’s locking arms, which gently drew her back into the padded supports. Once she was secure, Philippe sat down opposite her.

As the cab pulled away, Philippe held Mara’s gloved hand, a small gesture of comfort. She could not look up or turn her head, her vision too limited, but she felt his presence, steady and reassuring amid all her constraints, a silent promise of care.

The ride was short. Soon they arrived at Philippe’s villa in Cologny. The driver opened the door, Philippe stepped out first, then turned back to help Mara. He unlocked her from the fempad, helped her stand, and guided her out of the cab, again attaching the handle to her back.

“Almost home,” Philippe murmured as he led her toward the villa entrance.

Inside, he removed the handle and tapped master bedroom on the LCD panel by the door. Mara’s iGuardian answered with a soft beep, and she felt the guidance impulses direct her toward the bedroom. Philippe adjusted the pace to suit her limited stride.

Mara had no choice but to follow where the system led. With discipline mode still active, she took extra care not to trigger any further correction. The soft pulses of the guidance system were a constant reminder of how little control she had.

In the bedroom, the system guided her into a corner and then stopped. She stood there perfectly still, breathing shallowly through mask and gag. The room was quiet except for the faint rustle of her clothes as she shifted, trying to find some comfort within her rigid constraints.

Her mind began to drift, and she found a strange peace in the simplicity of obedience. In moments like this she felt relief from the constant demands of her strategic mind. Here she did not have to think or plan. She only had to follow. Philippe’s presence, and his care, gave her a comforting sense of security. The pulses guiding her reminded her that she was safe. She was secure.

A few minutes later Philippe entered the room, his expression softer.

“You did well today,” he said quietly, triggering the conditioned reward response that all Changed women carried.

A quick tap on his phone and an acknowledgement beep from the iGuardian released her from the position the system had assigned.

He led her to the bed.

“Now let us get you ready for the night.”

Mara curtsied and signed a formal acknowledgment.

Thank you, Sir. I am ready.

Philippe began preparing her for the night with his usual care. First he unlocked her bonnet and set it aside, leaving the mask in place. Then he released the central clothing lock at the small of her back, the key clicking softly. He opened her walking skirt and its support and helped her step out of it, revealing the tight underskirt underneath.

Next he released the stiff button panel of her blouse, sliding it free of the central lock. He shifted the two metal strips that held the back button row in place. Once the blouse could be opened, he worked his way down it methodically, easing each button through the aligned openings. Then he undid the cuffs and removed the blouse entirely so he could continue with her Yoyah Sheengzoh. He unlocked it and helped her out of it, leaving her standing in the iGuardian corset alone.

Her stockings were attached directly to the corset, and her feet were enclosed in knee-high ballet boots. The boots forced her into small steps and raised her a full twenty centimeters, bringing her small frame to a height more convenient for Philippe. Her hands were covered by full-length leather gloves suspended from the shoulder braces of the iGuardian, completing the ensemble that enforced an impeccable posture, a regal head position, and strict discipline.

Philippe led Mara to the bathroom and the cleaning station. He guided her boots into the ankle-loop locks that held her feet about a meter apart, then attached the cleaning adapter to the connector at the back of her iGuardian. Finally he raised her gloved hands to the shoulder-height arm locks at the sides. Held fully in place, she could do nothing but wait as the cleaning cycle began.

The cleaning adapter read the device configuration. It began filling her with an enema. The integrated catheter released, allowing her bladder to empty. The system started a mild reward program to make the wait more bearable until the enema could be released.

When it was, the system increased the reward level, massaging and stimulating her more and more, but always stopping just short of release. It always did.

At last the locks disengaged, and Philippe supported her gently as he led her back to the bed. He instructed her softly to kneel and offered her a hand to hold. Mara obeyed.

He began undoing her hair, which had been tightly braided and rolled into a bun. With great care he released the braid, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. Then he brushed it in long tender strokes. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around them, a sharp contrast to the disciplined exterior he otherwise maintained. Once her hair was brushed through, he braided it again, this time loosely for sleep, and placed a gentle kiss on her head.

Then he raised her, guided her into the bed, put her legs into the sleep shackles, arranged her braid so she would not lie on it, and attached a tether from the top of the bed to the connector between her shoulder blades, a restraint and charging cable at once. He tightened the tether carefully, enough for her to feel the restriction without discomfort.

“Mara,” Philippe said softly, his voice carrying both affection and authority, “you did very well today. Rest now. Tomorrow we have much to plan for the Green Gala.”

Mara signed back.

Thank you, Sir. I will rest and be ready for tomorrow.

He guided her hands into their shackles, locked them together, and attached them to the slot at the front of her corset with a short leash. Then he used his phone to loosen the collar, braces, and corset slightly for more comfortable sleep. Finally he set the device to watch mode and disengaged discipline mode. She would be helpless, but the iGuardian would alert him to any problem.

Philippe smiled and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder before switching off the main light and leaving only a soft glow in the room. Mara, still masked, gagged, gloved, with her bound feet held en pointe in her boots and her arms secured to the front of the corset, fell asleep almost at once. She felt properly secured, and she knew Philippe would care for her.

Mara woke with the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains. She lay still against Philippe’s warm body beside her, feeling his arm draped over her titanium-clad waist.

He stirred, his hand moving to caress her. He touched the smooth porcelain of her mask and the few bare patches of skin available to him, making Mara shiver with pleasure. She savored it and pulled ever so slightly against her restraints, enjoying the helplessness of being held in place.

After a few moments Philippe released her shackled arms, the tether between her shoulder blades, and finally her legs. He guided her through her morning routine. The iGuardian took care of her needs without requiring any release from its restrictions, cleaning her inside and out before applying its programmed skincare cycle.

When that was done, Philippe led her back to the bed and lifted her gently until she was on her hands and knees. He inserted the key into the iGuardian, carefully removed her vaginal shield and the insert, and left her exposed to the cool air for the first time in more than a week. With one hand on her hips, she felt the other begin to play with her, exploring the wetness that rose in her almost immediately. Long denial had made her ready for him within seconds.

Then he caught her corset-clad hips with both hands and took her hard and quickly. Mara knew from experience that this would be one of their brief rough morning affairs. As his thrusts deepened, she bit down on the gag. When he commanded her to come, she did at once, rough use and conditioning joining together to push her over the edge. She purred into the gag, her hands gave way, and she collapsed forward onto the mask, driving the gag deeper into her mouth. Her own hot breath filled the inside of the mask, and for a moment she struggled for air. His hands still held her hips high and him deep inside her. Then they moved upward to her waist and her rigid covered breasts, drawing her upright again. With him still inside her, his arms around her waist, he whispered praise into her ear. She desperately wanted to lean back into him and cuddle, but the rigidity of the outfit made that impossible. At last he withdrew, slid the shield back into place, and guided her to the bathroom for another cleaning cycle she knew she would need.

Afterward, Philippe helped her detach the mask so she could brush her teeth, leaving the used one for cleaning and giving her today’s mask instead. It was a plain white Jinshuwan that covered only her mouth and nose but included her usual feed adapter and gag. When she had finished brushing, she pushed the gag into place. The high stiff collar of the iGuardian made it awkward for her to open wide enough to let the front shield slide in smoothly. Then she clicked the lower part of the Jinshuwan into the collar, locking the mask and its gag into an ensemble that once again forced her head into a fixed, immovable position.

In the bedroom, Philippe waited to dress her for the day. He changed her shoes, gloves, and stockings for fresh ones and chose a different underskirt, then locked the collapsible framework of a bustle over it. Once the cleaning cycle and base layer of her dress were complete, he tightened the iGuardian’s collar, braces, and corset to their daytime settings.

He selected a dress even more Victorian in spirit than the one she had worn the day before, a rich verdant silk embroidered with dark green vines climbing over the skirts and bodice, the pattern designed to emphasize her slender figure and narrow waist. After helping her into the skirt and arranging it over the bustle, he dressed her in the bodice. He threaded her arms into the narrow sleeves, pulled the bodice into place in front, and arranged the high collar. Then he closed the buttons at her cuffs and down her back, locking everything into place.

Philippe loosened Mara’s hair, quickly straightened it, then braided it tightly into a strict daytime braid before rolling it into a bun. He chose a poke bonnet and secured it with a clasp around the bun. The bonnet had a wide silk band that went under her chin, crossed, and wrapped around her neck. He tied it into a neat bow that draped down the back of her dress and fixed it with a locking pin. The long poke of the bonnet would make the day more difficult, especially with the collar and mask already preventing any turn of the head, but it ensured proper face modesty even with only a Jinshuwan.

Once she was fully dressed, Philippe stepped back to admire the result.

“You look perfect, Mara. Now let us go downstairs for breakfast. We have much to do today.”

He tapped the control panel, and she felt the guidance pulses activate, directing her down to the dining room. When she arrived, the pulses guided her to her chair and stopped only once she was seated and locked into the chair’s corset adapters. As usual, Philippe personally attached the feed bag to her adapter while the maid served his breakfast. Mara felt the feed gag fill her mouth, swelling gradually until it collapsed and forced her to swallow. After years of the routine, she had grown used to the sensations.

As Philippe began his breakfast, he turned his attention to Mara, ready to discuss the day.

“Today you will work in the community garden until around two,” he said. “I will come to pick you up, and then we will review the location for the Green Gala.”

Mara answered in gloved hand-dancing.

Yes, Sir. I planned several activities for garden today, including planting new sections and coordinating with volunteers.

Philippe nodded approvingly.

“Good. It is important that the garden be well maintained. Now tell me more about the activities planned.”

Mara detailed them with precise signing.

We will plant native species to promote biodiversity. This is one of the restored sections after old runway was removed and toxins cleared from ground. Oil, fuel, and heavy-metal contamination was extremely high, but soil exchange and contaminant-extraction bacteria seem to have revived the ground. Also intend organize workshop for volunteers on sustainable gardening practices. One group is women with attitude problems; they will need close supervision when working outside later. Other volunteer groups will help install rainwater collection system, and we will improve watering gradually by converting it to direct-to-root drip irrigation.

Philippe smiled.

“Excellent. Your dedication to the garden is admirable. Now, about the Green Gala. We will visit the newly built Ecoville Hotel in Grand-Saconnex. It is not far from the garden,” he assured her.

“The hotel is designed around ecological principles and uses no concrete,” he continued. “Instead, it is constructed entirely from wood and other natural materials. The grand ballroom is ideal for our event, which makes it a suitable location. You will review the facilities and give me an assessment of their suitability.”

Mara signed her acknowledgment, since she could not nod.

I will make sure note any details or adjustments needed.

Philippe took a sip of coffee, watching her intently.

“Mara, your presence and your judgment are invaluable. Your ability to see details others miss is one of your greatest strengths.”

Warm pride moved through her at the words.

Thank you, Sir. I will do utmost to ensure everything perfect.

When he finished breakfast, Philippe stood and came around the table to where Mara sat. He gently detached the feed bag and unlocked her from the chair.

“Let us get you ready for the garden. You have a busy day ahead.”

He signaled the maid, who had stood silent and motionless by the entrance the entire time, to clear away the breakfast things.

Then he helped Mara to her feet and set her guidance for the main door. There he configured the iGuardian’s geofencing to allow her to proceed to the garden and move within it. Finally he opened the door for her.

“I will see you at two,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar note of affectionate authority. “Make sure everything runs smoothly.”

Mara curtsied and signed a quick response.

Yes, Sir. I will.

Again she felt guide mode activate. A prickling sensation from the electrodes buried beneath the domes that lifted and cradled her breasts told her which way to turn and go. The system would also remind her to stay on course with escalating corrections if she strayed or dawdled. It led her to the tram that would take her to the garden and instructed her to wait in line with the other unattended women. The iGuardian’s Bluetooth functions identified her to the tram and logged her in on her transport pass. Once she reached the garden, the iGuardian allowed her to move freely inside the geofence Philippe had set around it. It would also make sure she went through feed and waste-relief cycles at the booth at the times he had scheduled, while keeping him informed if it detected any resistant behavior that might require correction.

Mara’s day in the community garden was mostly routine. She oversaw the planting as planned, coordinated the volunteers, and gave her workshop. The structure of the day gave her a sense of calm and purpose.

Shortly before two, Mara felt the subtle signals from the iGuardian reminding her to prepare for Philippe’s arrival. Determined not to slip into discipline mode again, she made sure her appearance was immaculate, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her bonnet. She stood at attention in the marked waiting area by the entrance, perfectly poised when Philippe arrived.

“Ready to go, Mara?” Philippe asked with a warm smile.

She curtsied and signed.

Yes, Sir. Everything in order.

Philippe led her to the tram stop, and soon they were on their way to the Ecoville Hotel in Grand-Saconnex.

The Ecoville Hotel was an impressive sight, blending naturally into the parkland around it. The three-story building, constructed entirely from natural materials, radiated harmony with its surroundings. Wooden beams and large varioglass panels, dimmed slightly against the sun, allowed natural light to flood the interior, while green roofs and climbing plants provided both insulation and beauty.

At reception they were greeted by a female concierge whose waist was laced into an impressively narrow silhouette. She wore the service uniform used throughout the hotel, including the identical full-face mask worn by all the staff. It concealed her entire face except for her eyes and enforced both anonymity and silence. Her lower body could not be seen at all, as she appeared to be built into the reception desk, her waist locked into place so that she remained fixed there.

Welcome to Ecoville Hotel, she signed to Philippe.

“We are here to review the venue for the upcoming Green Gala,” Philippe replied.

The concierge’s hands moved, pointing to the decorative brass name plate fixed at the front of her collar.

Welcome, Sir. My name is Marguerite. We expected you.

She gave a signal to one side, and another woman appeared, released from a waiting lockbox. She was dressed identically and wore exactly the same mask, curtsying to Philippe. Marguerite introduced her as Fleur, again by pointing to the name plate that was the only visible difference between them.

Fleur is event manager for hotel. She will show you around and answer your questions, Marguerite signed.

Mara found herself thinking, with invisible amusement behind the mask, that perhaps every woman working there had been given a flower name.

Fleur took over, curtsying once more before guiding them onward.

Please follow me.

Philippe nodded, and they followed. As they walked, Mara took in the elegance of the building. Wood, natural fibers, living plants. The whole hotel seemed to breathe, embodying the ecological principles it advertised.

Fleur led them into the grand ballroom, a vast room with a high ceiling, full of plant life. The roof structure of exposed wooden beams gave it real grandeur. Large windows opened onto the surrounding park, filling the room with natural light. The floor was reclaimed wood polished to a warm glow, and the walls were lined with living plants that deepened the sense of being inside something cultivated rather than merely built.

Philippe turned to Mara.

“What do you think, Mara?”

Turning her whole body in mincing en-pointe steps to compensate for her restrictions, Mara surveyed the room. Then her hands moved in fluid evaluation.

Perfect, Sir. Ballroom captures essence of Green Gala. Beautiful and inspiring atmosphere for guests.

Philippe smiled with clear satisfaction.

“Excellent. Let us discuss the arrangements in detail.”

Mara began her inspection of the ballroom with a critical eye, noting every detail. She glided across the floor, her hobble skirt and ballet boots hidden beneath the bustle, while the rapid clicking of her heels echoed softly.

The ballroom opened onto a beautiful terrace leading into the surrounding park. The view was breathtaking, all greenery and careful landscaping. But Mara quickly identified a problem. Some stretches of the terrace had soft ground where women in heels and formal dress would struggle. She herself could not step into those areas in her present attire.

She signed the point to Fleur.

Need paving plates or wooden planks in these areas, fitted to style of event. Otherwise guests in heels will struggle.

Though Fleur’s mask revealed nothing, her body language showed attentive understanding. She signed agreement and made note of it.

Will ensure those adjustments made, Madam Mara.

Back inside the ballroom, Mara identified several places where tether bars or lockable women’s chairs should be installed. Some guests from more restrictive cultures would need proper means to secure their women while attending to other matters. It would be grossly impolite not to provide for that.

She signed the observation to Fleur.

Must ensure female guests are comfortable and secure while guardians mingle or attend bar.

Fleur noted that as well, her hands moving efficiently.

Understood, Madam Mara. We have proper equipment here. Only needs installation according to your specifications.

Mara then asked about the lighting. Fleur explained in fluid hand-dancing that the hotel used British bioengineered bioluminescent plants for its base lighting, creating a soft natural glow. An additional LED system was available for events that needed stronger illumination.

Bioluminescent plants delightful touch, Mara signed, genuinely intrigued. Guests will be impressed.

Also in garden, along all walkways, Fleur explained.

Satisfied with the lighting, Mara turned to the question of the stage. As she and Fleur discussed placement and design, Philippe drifted out into the park-like garden, leaving Mara to the planning.

Fleur explained that the ballroom had a modular stage system that could be assembled according to the event’s needs. Mara studied the plans and identified the best position for visibility and access.

Stage should go here, she signed, indicating the point that gave a clear view from every part of the room. Everybody must see speakers and performers clearly. More restrictive restraint stations should also be placed where women can still see stage.

Fleur nodded.

Can arrange that, Madam Mara. Will coordinate with staff to match your specifications.

At last Mara addressed another practical point.

Some guests will require nourishment through feed ports, she signed, indicating her own mask. Guardians prefer more controlled diet. Please ensure catering prepared with feed bags and suitable nutrition.

Fleur reassured her at once.

Increasingly popular trend. We are fully equipped. No need worry.

She pointed toward the outdoor breakfast area, barely visible through the greenery. Mara adjusted herself and the poke of her bonnet until she could see what Fleur meant. Nearly half the female guests seated there were already locked into women’s chairs with feed bags dangling from them.

Once the review was complete, Mara was satisfied. The venue was almost perfect, and with a few minor adjustments it would be ideal for the Green Gala. She was confident the event would succeed and reflect all the careful planning Philippe had allowed her to invest in it.

With the details noted and Fleur’s assurances in place, Mara joined Philippe outside in the garden. He was admiring the calm landscape when she approached, the soft rustle of her skirts announcing her.

Philippe turned with a smile.

“How does it look, Mara?”

Her hands moved with practiced grace.

Beautiful, Sir. Only few minor adjustments needed. It will be perfect for Green Gala.

Philippe nodded, clearly pleased.

“Excellent. Let us make sure everything is ready. This will be an event to remember.”