Chapter 2
I was in a dream-like state as I prepared to exit the building. I paused to take a deep breath, relieved and yet excited. It seemed to me that all that had happened in the past two hours was almost perfect, beyond my expectations. 'Master,' realizing he had given me no other name, seemed very safe, and he also seemed to read my thoughts. Maybe I was not that unique and that his past experiences and contracts with other girls had given him insights into the young female mind.
It was dark outside, but I had to take the bus back to campus. There was no way to hide the ankle cuffs, and I did not want anyone thinking I was an escaped convict, so I squatted down near the stairwell and used the tool to remove the cuffs. They were so shiny and hard. With a mental sigh, I dropped them in my bag. The windbreaker would sufficiently hide the wrist cuffs and my collar.
My collar! I could not believe how sexually stimulating it felt. I would have to take it off in the morning, at the latest, but I could hardly wait to get home, look at myself in the mirror, and masturbate my brains out!
The bus ride back gave me time to think and relax. It all felt so right, and I would certainly keep tomorrow's appointment.
My roomie was not home when I returned to our apartment. It was not hard to avoid her. We shared a common kitchen and living room, but we had our own bedroom and bathroom. I grabbed half a Subway and a yogurt from the fridge and went to my bedroom. In seconds, I had stripped and was propping one foot on the dresser, relocking the cuff. The CLICK sound immediately sent my pussy into action. I looked in the mirror and saw the image of a Gorean slave girl, preparing herself for her Master. I locked the other ankle cuff.
I stood back from the mirror and used a scrunchy to tie back my hair. Something was missing. Heels! I scrambled through my closet and found the shoes with the highest heels I owned. They were at least an inch shorter than the pair that Master had me model.
I stood before the mirror again and with my phone took a picture from my chin down. I retook it from my nose down. I wanted to be sure it included the hoop earrings I so loved, another aspect of Gorean culture. I submitted that picture to a Tumblr site that blogged selfies of Asian girls.
By then, I was simmering to the point of eruption. I removed the heels and almost raced to the shower. Some of my best cums occur in the shower, with the shower head on pulse and pressed against my pussy. Tonight was no exception; in fact, it might have been the best cascade of cums of my life! With my neck, wrists, and ankles wrapped in unyielding steel, my fantasies were running wild.
I was able to drift off to sleep quite easily, feeling that the day could not have gone better.
When I awoke the following morning, I felt a little groggy. It was like I had been dreaming, but could not remember the dream. When I turned over, my ankles touched and clinked, reminding me of last night. Mmmmmmmmm, I purred, and reached up to stretch, seeing my bound wrists. I reached up to finger the metal around my neck, feeling its smoothness against my skin, feeling its strength against my femininity.
In seconds, my other hand found my awakening clitty, poking her little head from under her labia folds and blankets. She is very spoiled and wanted immediate attention; within a short time, I had my first cum of the day. Yes, this would be a great day, I thought.
I had a 9 a.m. class and so did my roomie, Teryn. She is a hottie, for sure. Of the two of us, she is the extrovert, the one guys notice first. I am more the tag-along, the afterthought, the "girl with Teryn." Well, I smiled, who was collared and cuffed in steel this morning, and had a one to nothing cum lead? I smiled and rose from my bed, padding to the bathroom to pee.
I sat on the toilet and examined my wrist cuffs. Nothing changed in my mind overnight. They were beautiful and I felt more "woman" than ever before.
My pussy was sticky, so I took another quick shower, deciding against a shower cum, but promising myself one later. I finished, dried myself, and decided to dress before breakfast. That was not my usual routine, but I just did not want to leave the safety of my room until the last minute. I would normally have walked into the kitchen in a long T, or with just my bra and panties, but that was not in the plan, bondaged as I was.
It was late fall, but the weather had been typical So Cal great. I thought of the leather outfit Master had given me to wear last night, and imagined wearing it to class today. I smiled inside. Eventually I decided on a pair of cut off jeans that barely hid my ass, a halter top, and flip flops. I would put on a Bruin sweatshirt when I left the apartment, and wear it until the day warmed up. Sigh, time to remove the steel.
I sat on my bed, unlocking my wrist and ankle cuffs. I closed them, and set them aside to take with me later. I needed the mirror to remove my collar. I felt naked walking to the mirror, without the wrist and ankle steel. I hadn't examined the collar in any detail last night or this morning. The front had a ring and I imagined a leash hanging from it. I turned it around on my neck, noticing a notch at the top. I inserted the wrench tool, but it would not enter the slot. For a moment, my tummy did a flip flop, but I figured I just didn't insert it at the right angle. I took a scrunchy to pull back my hair for an unhindered look and tried again. It was not going in the top. That was certain. I flipped my hair, stalling for a moment because my stomach had reacted again by doing a somersault. This time I brought the wrench up from the bottom. CLANK.
At that moment, I lost it! I tried to force the wrench from the top, then the bottom. I dropped it on my dresser and physically tried to part the collar, but it would not budge. I wanted to scream in frustration, but then decided to calm myself, knowing that a panic was not going to help. I picked up my phone and called the number of Master's location. I got a message advising me to leave a message and someone would return my call as soon as possible and to have a nice day!
"Hi, um, this is Jennifer Hu, I, um interviewed with you last night. Yeah, well, there is a problem. The cuffs came off perfectly, but the collar did not open, like, it's stuck. Please call me back and tell me how to get it off. Thank you," and I hung up.
I could not just sit around my room all day waiting for a call. He might not even get the message until much later in the day, if his business is primarily conducted in the afternoon and evenings.
There was only one thing to do, return to the building in which I interviewed last night and get Master's help. I could not let anyone see me, so putting on my sweatshirt and zipping it to the top, letting down my hair, I grabbed my bag with my class notebooks, and the steel cuffs. I checked myself in the mirror. Not bad.
"Hi, Teryn," I called, walking to the door.
"Hey, Babe," she replied in her usual sexy way.
"No time for breakfast, I'm gonna grab a Starbucks on the way, see you later."
"K, have a good one," and out the door I went.
The bus took me to the same location as last night, and I walked into the building, memories of 12 hours ago very vivid. Up the staircase, two doors down on the right. The door that said, "Over the Edge Studios"
I had almost no hope anyone would answer. It was barely past 9 a.m., so unless there was a secretary that arrived early, I would just have to wait. I hated the idea of missing classes, but priorities dictated otherwise. Then I saw the sign that read, "Out of office, will return at 3 PM." My heart sank. I would have to spend all day in classes with the collar. I could not miss a whole day. I was screwed.
~~~~*
I knew she would be pissed. My only concern was how I would handle that. There was no doubt in my mind that it was an opportunity to assert my control. I made it a point to be unavailable so she would have to wear the collar all day. No doubt she would need to be very creative when or if she could not hide it. Still, anger at me was not conducive to the type of relationship that I wanted with her, so I would have to immediately quell that attitude. This was a very thin line to walk. Yes, I wanted her to be the one that fulfilled my own fantasies. Yes, I thought I knew what she wanted and was seeking.
The difference was that in the past I really didn't get emotionally involved with my models. Sometimes it got sexual. We had fun. No strings. We both walked away with good memories and lots of pictures. I should keep it this way this time as well. I just had a feeling it would be more difficult to separate the emotional from the physical. If there even was anything physical, of course. I shouldn't be thinking that far ahead.
When she walked in the door I could see she was livid. I gave her just 30 seconds to vent about the key and collar and then I said, "STOP".
"Give me the key." She did and I deftly palmed it and used the correct key to unlock her collar. She was stunned.
"It is more difficult to work the key in the collar and looking at it reversed in a mirror. I should have had you practice before you left."
By then I had removed the collar and she would never know my ploy even if she was dubious about what I had said.
"But, far more important than a trivial error, perhaps it was a good thing. Tell me. How did it make you feel to not be in control for once? To be forced to wear your Master's collar, with nothing you could do about it?"
I had stopped her in her tracks. Now she wasn't sure if she could blame me for the embarrassing incident of wearing the collar all day, plus the humiliation of blaming me for something that could have been her own lack of dexterity. I didn't give her time to answer. She could think about that on her own time.
"I find this a rather timely incident. If you have no trust in your Master, then this is more significant that you realize. You may leave now if that is what you wish."
Her anger cooled instantly at my subtle threat.
"Decide now. I still have one more applicant for the position."
Giving her no real time to think about it, I knew she would stay, of course. What I had planned for her today was another story. It was a toss up. Would I push her too much and make her bolt? I guess that was preferable to her not being pushed at all and there not being enough excitement for her to stay.
"Speak, slave. Do you want this job or not?"
She jumped at my words. All anger forgotten and no doubt again remembering the excitement and wetness this was causing. She may be still unsure but I knew she was all but hooked.
"Speak now or go. Your choice."
I was not surprised when she finally said. "No please. I am sorry Master. Give me a chance."
Yes, I was using a method that many totally abusive and worthless men use. Making a vulnerable submissive feel guilty. The difference was that I would never abuse a woman. Abuse I guess is relative, of course. Spanking, whipping, humiliations were not abuse to a woman that down deep wanted and needed these things. To me abuse was beating and torturing a woman and making her believe she deserved nothing better. Even worse, making her believe emotionally she was worthless. Wrong. Oh so totally wrong. I love women. It is a terrible thing that women with submissive desires wind up used and abused by men that are clueless about these things. A Master does demand obedience and rewards his slave for it. Even on Gor, a fictitious planet where women are slaves, they are revered even if whipping is necessary at times. Punishment there is for a reason but they are very much, prize possessions. For an abusive earth man, physically abusing a woman is fun. Sorry, but that is just wrong. I wondered if my Asian beauty had ever heard of Gor. More than just science fiction, it depicts a philosophy that is all too true, at least for those who understand it.
"My decision has not yet been made, so let's talk. Last night when you went home, how did you feel about seeing yourself naked and in the first stages of bondage?"
I saw her eyes widen but didn't give her a chance to speak.
"I am betting that you couldn't wait to stand naked in front of your mirror and pretend you were a captive. In fact, I will bet your little hole got so juiced that you had to masturbate. Tell me. How many times did you cum? Once, twice, many times?"
