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It was dark, the only light coming from a few fat candles; it was quiet, the only noise coming from the tub in one corner. A charcoal-grey Mare with hair the colour of rosewood relaxed as much as she could, bathing with her precious pet at her side. The Lapine girl dutifully massaged the tension away, whispering softly about her utmost devotion until they heard the loud footsteps approaching.

It was difficult, even for the more senior Torturers in their complex, to actually be able to relax. If it wasn't a trainee who needed to learn from practical application, then they had entirely run out of rope again and needed to tally everything they had left before placing new orders. Moments when one could have a leisurely meal or wash away one's stresses came few and far between, as proven when a grouchy, purple-clad Stoat stomped into the room.

"Gallowtail, I need your help. I can't let someone new ruin this."

"Hrmph. Is it that urgent that you have to interrupt me during a bath?"

"Well, we should keep him waiting a little longer." With another soft snort, Gallowtail rose out of the tub while her pet brought her a towel. "See, this pudgy Cat found himself in here today," the Stoat continued, "and he's everything those old Dogs used to say about them. He walked right in, thought 'dominant' was the same thing as 'demanding', and decided to just ask for a slim, quiet female - any kind, he said he 'wasn't picky' - to whom he wouldn't have to do things like 'understand' or 'respect'."

After her hooves and legs were lovingly dried, she stepped out on to the floor and stretched unashamedly out, allowing her pet to revere the rest of her strong physique. "So you want me to teach this Feline what common decency means?"

"Hah! No, I want us to have some fun with him and throw him out on his rump! I've been having the worst whole week ever, and he's got to learn about decency on his own. That one back there isn't Nightshade, he's just full of himself." A cross between a smirk and a scowl spread across Ireline's face as the younger Stoat went on. "I did my usual thing to him and he said, 'Go tell your Owner that I'd be fine with even a herm who's more feminine!' Apparently, he would've settled for me if I wasn't so ugly."

Eyes were rolled. Ireline had said that it wasn't just the birth issue that helped shape the now-senior Torturer, but the reactions to it. Between the childhood of insults from Canines who could smell a confusing hormonal mix and a currently-short adulthood of assumptions that Ireline, the Keeper of Woe possessed too much of both rather than too little of either, the irritable Stoat had naturally set out for a profession where one could devise a personal title, and where cruelty could be used to enlighten people about the obvious. Openly assuming things about Ireline was known to get the same sort of reaction as telling Nightshade that another word for his namesake meant "beautiful woman" in a foreign language.

"So I told him I would go to find the most beautiful set of petals for him, along with a big, luscious toy to show you what she could do. I would've given him a big, hot enema, but that would've been obvious, so I just gave him a drink of water with a - well, by the time you're ready, he should be just as clean inside as you are out."

"He is male, Ireline, and neither takes care of his body nor mind." Muffin, her beautiful Lapine pet, now only had to dry her head and arms; Gallowtail made sure not to let her adoration show at how hard it was for her pet to resist breaking down into a shower of kisses. "Why should either of us waste our time on someone undeserving of it?"

"Because we both want to relax, and don't you like putting uppity males in their place, too? Besides, I never just say, 'no, go away,' when I can put some thought into it."

"My Lady," Muffin whispered, running the towel down the other shoulder, "Why not wear the Dress? You won't be touching him directly in it, and it would give you another reason to put it on. He won't even get to see your real body in it. Besides," she laughed out, finally unable to restrain herself any more, "he sounds like one male who needs to take it up the rear!"

Everyone broke into laughter, but Gallowtail recovered first. "Yes, it would do him some good, and we all know how much you love it." With a fast flick of her wrist, she snatched the towel from her pet and brought it to her head. "Bring me the Dress, Muffin, and help me into it!"

Despite having come up with the idea on a whim, it had taken months to design, manufacture and be able to pay for it and all of its accessories. She even paid extra to have those delightful new inventions installed, but it was all worth it. Even though she had the figure and presence to cause the weak-willed to fall to the ground, worshipping and masturbating clad only in her tool belt, in the Dress, she'd heard deep, longing gasps merely while walking by. They didn't know the feelings it gave to its wearer, though the fact that some of the other Torturers were designing their own made her proud to have inspired them.

Muffin came back with the Dress in her arms, and its other parts piled on top of it. With the same care as she'd shown with the towel, she knelt down to let her Mistress carefully step into the snug-fitting leggings. It hugged her tightly, having been powdered to prevent it from pulling at her fur. As Muffin rose, her face mere inches from her beautiful Owner's femininity and taut midsection, she made sure to focus her mind on her duty, and on the punishments for failure. Making sure not to give in to the longing passion, she rose again, ensuring the Dress conformed exactly to Gallowtail's body. Precise measurements were needed, but steps had been taken to ensure that the clothiers only remembered the numbers. They hadn't even felt the need to remember even the false names the half-dozen Mares had given them.

Her arms pushed snugly into the sleeves, until they touched against the ends of the gloves. After much consideration, she'd decided to leave the areas made to cover her breasts unadorned, and not removable. Her mental image had been one not of a costume, but of an unknowable elemental thing, of (except for a last-minute suggestion by Ireline) femininity incarnate. The new material having been made of smooth, shining tree sap and brimstone put her in mind of having stamped out of some underground forest, demanding obedience from all those who'd dared to enter her realm. Muffin had moved behind her, helping her tail through and closing the metal clasp at the back. She brought back her shoulders when her pet grasped the tiny handle, and pulled.

Gallowtail knew what she'd wanted as soon as she'd laid eyes on it, and it had been perfect for the Dress. The very first time, she'd watched in a pair of mirrors as the metal teeth closed behind the handle, locking her into it completely. And the sound! She'd wanted to demand Muffin to remove it, followed by her own garments, but she wouldn't have gotten to her position there had she let herself lose her composure.

Once the handle couldn't be pulled any further, the light-haired Lapine allowed herself one gentle caress of-

"We aren't finished yet. Bring me the rest."

It was definitely worth it. Sleek and smooth, it felt as if her Mistress was a living statue of herself. Next, the tool belt was clipped around her waist, already outfitted with spare collars, shackles, hooks, clasps, a spanking tool, and most importantly, her rope. Next came the bracers, anklets, and bands for her arms and thighs. All were painted red, but otherwise featureless. Etching them would have cost even more, and nobody would have looked closely at it anyway. When each band of metal had been locked into place, the corset was brought up and carefully laced to fit her figure. As black as the Dress itself, but with red lacing, it ended just underneath her breasts. It all felt snug and secure - with comfort - but she could no longer touch her hooves. Still, she bent her knees slightly as the last piece lay there, on the floor in front of her.

Picking it up, with the reverence due for crowning a queen, Muffin reached up and slipped the hood over her Owner's head. Slowly reaching up, Gallowtail took hold of it to keep it in place while her dutiful pet got her hair out of the way before securing it. Instead of a superior smirk, as Ireline had suggested, it had been shaped instead to hint at a look of shaming disapproval, despite the blinders having been built into it. Apart from her hooves, only her hair, tail, nose and mouth were left in the open, but all she could smell was the Dress itself. Unless she tilted her head, the only way to look the tall Mare in the eye was by standing up straight. The only one she deemed fit for the honour, however, was herself.

"Ireline, stand back. I need the mirror." The floor-length mirror in the baths was on the other side of the room, but she still had to turn her head to see it. As beautiful and intimidating as she was with it on, it held a secret not even Muffin fully knew, though she probably suspected: her love of control and restraint even applied to herself. Despite her natural speed and agility, when enclosed in the Dress, her senses were narrowed, each step became deliberate, each movement restricted, lest she damage it or fall. At some point, she thought to herself, she would have to tie Muffin's thighs together, and her wrists to them, add on a leash and take her for a walk. No one who saw them would know the whole truth!

"You forgot this," Ireline smirked, carelessly tossing the extra addition to Muffin. With a sigh, the Lady of the Collar stopped and raised a leg, then the other, as Muffin slipped it on her and secured the straps in place. After stopping to finally admire herself, she noticed her pet behind her, and finally gave a gentle nod. Her pet fell to her knees to clutch at her Owner's leg, rubbing her face and arms against powerful thigh and its tight encasements. Her adoration certainly completed the sight: she looked and felt like liquid darkness in the form of a Mare, bright light kneeling before her. She raised an arm, and the sleek garment moved with her, the metal accentuating the physical strength that the material concealed. Turning her head to one side, she lost view of herself. Truly, she had become the embodiment of restraint, the Lady of the Collar as less of a person, but more as some mythical idealization.

She felt a gentle tug of her pet's paw against the black-and-red phallus of strong tempered glass that had been secured beneath her waist. "My Lady," Muffin groaned, "Will you mount me like a male?"

"No, Muffin," her Mistress replied, "I will mount you like a female."

"Cute, but remember that you've got an actual male to mount first." Ireline tossed a thumb in the direction of the door, and extended a hand to her pet. "Accompany me, and you may watch me as I give a presumptuous male some much-needed humiliation."

The Lapine's smile grew even wider as she gave a theatrical sigh: "Oh, my Lady, grind him beneath your shod hooves and toss him in a pile with his laundry!"

"Just stay silent," Ireline grinned, "even if the says you think his gender's all the same. Maybe if we can get him to stop placing blame, then he'll be ready to learn something useful!" She nodded, then paused to get one last look at herself in the mirror. With that, securely enclosed within the Dress, the Lady of the Collar was led by her faithful pet and the Keeper of Woe to teach a presumptuous little Cat some manners.