This letter was written with permission from The Boss, and by that, I don't mean my employer, I mean my Dom. He is a very busy man and asked me to draft a search for another sub owner. Next month, The Boss will be traveling for work and won't be able to tend to me in the manner which I have become accustomed... but I'll get to that shortly. He would like to find another dominant man to trade subs with during this two-week trip. He will take your sub with him and leave me in your care.
I am 23, single, white, petite. I have a professional career, but for a long time, I have felt like I was still missing something. I met The Boss about a year ago and he helped me to see that what I needed was to be completely controlled by another human being. I imagined myself as a willing object, owned and managed, with no will of my own. He is very charismatic and it didn't take long for me to want what he was selling. I soon accepted his generous offer and my training began.
I haven't always been the obedient sub I am now. At first, I just couldn't stop masturbating. I understood that I was only allowed to receive sexual pleasure when The Boss made the decision, but the thought of holding back drove me wild. The idea of giving someone this power was such a turn on that I found myself slipping my hand into my panties even at work or while driving! I would then confess my transgressions to The Boss, and together we worked to correct my errors.
One time he gave me a humiliating spanking. He asked me to bend over, grab my ankles and spread my legs. He whacked me with his belt multiple times while his brother and his best friend watched. His brother's sub was in the room too, though I'm not sure if she could see or not from her in-waiting position in the corner. I was naked of course, as always. I wasn't allowed to speak whenever he had guests, but I listened as the men affirmed his actions. His brother pointed out that a harsher punishment would bring forth quicker obedience. This only heightened my arousal and I soon touched myself again.
After again confessing what I had done, I confided in him that I was starting to doubt if I was cut out for the submissive life. The Boss responded with kindness and warmth. He told me he wholeheartedly believed in me. He said he saw a characteristic in me that assured him I exactly where I needed to be. He told me I was smart when I chose to turn towards a personal restructuring, and that he was genuinely happy for me. The Boss explained that if I would give him my complete trust, it was just a matter of finding the right strategy that clicked with me to eliminate my bad habits and reshape my cognition. I told him I was ashamed for crying when he whipped me with his belt, but The Boss replied that he was pleased that I cried. He explained that this helps to break down the barriers that block my adaptation. After our talk, I felt much better. I kept trying to obey, and I did well on many levels, but abstinence from self-gratification often felt unattainable.
The subject of my shortcomings came up again when The Boss's brother and best friend returned for another visit. His brother's sub was always brought along to kneel silently in the corner. His brother felt that the only way to stop me from touching my button was to remove it. The Boss rejected this idea pointing out that it was a necessary tool for positive reinforcement. His brother disagreed. He felt that subs should obey because they are eager to please their master, and not because they think they are entitled to any kind of reward. He explained that with a quality sub, absolutely nothing compares to the satisfaction of serving her master well. On this subject, the two of them went back and forth and I began to wonder if his brother's sub was intact.
Then, The Boss's friend joined in and began offering nonsurgical suggestions. As a lead designer at BSI, a local company that makes birthing simulation kits, bondage devises and sex toys, he had many ideas. Still in a trial stage, one product involved the use of an electric device that damaged the nerves enough that the spot would become numb. Full desensitization lasted a few days. After a week feeling should return completely. The Boss considered this but still wanted to be able to give or prevent pleasure on his schedule, plus there had been cases of permanent nerve damage and the product seemed unlikely to be approved for sale.
His friend then suggested a barrier his company made called a Clit Cap. The sub's hood is pulled back and a tiny metal dome is glued directly onto the magic spot. The Boss would need to dissolve the glue with acetone or wait a couple of days for it to fall off. The Boss was interested in this idea so his friend said he would have a box shipped to him.
However, while we waited for it, The Boss finally found a technique that took. The Boss asked me to lay on my back and open my legs. He carefully and thoroughly roughed the delicate skin of my clitoris with an emery board, then applied a cinnamon oil. The pain was incredible and the tears flowed from my eyes like rain. I begged for relief, but instead of his permission to tend to my predicament, he made me crawl into a dog crate and spend the night in it! I tried to rub the offending oil from my body, but my touch only refreshed the stinging sensation and I drew back from my precious pearl as from fire, which made a long-lasting impression. He moved the crate to a dark quiet part of the house so my complaints would not be an interruption to his evening.
I didn't sleep at all that night. The wicked burning and intense throbbing were all I could think of, and it never let up. When the morning came and The Boss carried his still sobbing sub in his arms from the crate to a cool bath, the transition of my obedience had finally shifted. There were a few other troubles along the way, hardships I had to endure to learn my place, but this incident became a defining moment between us, and I respected him that much more for it.
From this experience, we began using the dog crate more frequently. Soon I was presented with a one-piece dog costume that covered every inch of my body except my breasts and between my legs. The "paws" that encased my hands and feet made me completely helpless. The mask exposed only my eyes and had ventilation adequate for breathing, though I could not open my mouth to speak once the mask was in place. The last piece to this garment was a decorative collar to which he often added a leash for more controlled lessons. Because the fur of the costume was a fresh copper color, The Boss began calling it Penny.
After work each day I would return to The Boss, remove my clothing and present myself for his enjoyment and training. He continued to mold me into the best submissive I could be. Sometimes this was through long talks and sometimes through physical acts of pain or pleasure. Occasionally we would review a filmed training session of myself or another sub and The Boss would help me to understand where improvements could be made. When the night came and the lessons were done, he would help me into the Penny outfit. As he zipped up the back, secured the mask, and tightened the collar, I knew inside this alternate dog world was where I belonged and I began living this way not only every evening but every weekend as well.
Recently, to make my costume more complete, I have been "tail training". For this, a beginner's butt plug that looks like a tail is inserted and left in place for as long as I am in costume, generally overnight or whenever he is entertaining guests and is only removed when I need to "do my business" or change for work. So far, I have found the intrusion quite objectionable. The Boss insists it is necessary. He said I will get used to it, and encourages me to experiment with different styles and work towards thicker and deeper plugs.
***Edit: As my temporary Dom, you will need to continue the work of pushing me out of my comfort zone. My comfort zone is a place of "me" and I am learning a good sub should release all selfish limits and always put her Dom's wishes above everything else.
As part of my petgirl training, and after much trial and error, I am pleased to say I have learned to successfully "take the knot". The Boss showed me films of other subs taking it, and I was nervous. His charisma and gentle persistence made me willing to try, but my lack of passion for the idea as well as my resistance to his detailed instructions caused a great deal of discomfort the first several times. Now, the thought of the knot very much excites me and I no longer need to be dragged by the leash to the sexual appliance.