Chapter 1- The first steps to slavery
It all began innocently enough, or so I told myself. Surfing the internet in bed one evening, I found myself exploring adult web sites, and eventually came upon a BDSM dating site. I had long harbored thoughts about the darker side of humanity. Divorced and living alone, perhaps this was the time to explore those long-held urges? What harm could come from taking a cautious peek? And so, with a large dose of trepidation I joined the site.
First task was to fill out a personal profile. The physical bit was easy enough. At just under six feet tall, trim with brown hair and hazel eyes, I basically resembled the healthy guy next door stereotype.
The harder task was to define what I was looking for! That required me to soul search and I was immediately out of my comfort zone. I had long suppressed thoughts of submissiveness. After-all, how could a successful executive and leader of people, be submissive? The raw truth however, was that the thought of kneeling before a strong Dominant woman made me hard... no denying that!
But as I deeply thought about it, I became aware that there was more to it. I didn't just want to submit, I truly wanted to be owned and humiliated, degraded and made to do things that I had long considered taboo, nasty, even filthy. This was my challenge... how to put all that into a dating profile?
After much deliberation and emotional turmoil, I filled out my profile with the headline "Filth slut in training."
The copy explained that I was a submissive male with taboo inclinations, looking for a Dominant woman to serve as her darkest needs. I attached a headshot, lied about my age and submitted my physical credentials, together with a generic list of desires- BDSM, CBT, pegging, servitude, toilet duties... most of which I barely understood, let alone had experienced!
Within minutes from pressing "Send", I had mail. First from an administrator welcoming me to the site. An hour later I got my first Mistress contact, then a second. I was excited, scared and hugely turned on by the process. My journey had begun.
In the following days I went back and forward with a number of would- be suitors.
Most conversations fizzled almost before they began. Lots of tire kickers and pretenders. Some women were positively horrifying, looking like they had just been released from solitary confinement. Others were young, way too young for me at least! Many proclaimed to be looking for a life partner and seemed to me to be on the wrong search site. But a few were of interest and seemed to fit my specifications in terms of looks and kinks.
One such woman was Mistress Sinthia. Yes, I know the spelling is suspect, but I smiled at the obvious connotations and was sufficiently intrigued to open her profile.
She had posted just one photograph, which presented a tall, olive skinned, statuesque woman in her early forties. Her facial features were strong and angular, as though crafted from marble. Her eyes were brown, intense, knowing. Her long black hair was pulled back tight and secured by a leather tie, conveying her the nobility of a warrior.
She wore a body sculpting black leather skirt, paired with black leather bra and knee-high leather boots. Her fingernails, full lips and hair tie were bright red. The effect was striking. Not only was she a beauty, but she exuded a confidence and dominant sensuality that bordered on threatening.
My intrigue was amplified by her profile. The headline stated:
"Exotic lifestyle Mistress - Practitioner of exquisite perversity."
It went on to explain... "You will fall under my spell and resign to me your body, mind and soul. I demand total obedience. Failure to comply will result in severe punishment. You will be my collared slut, devoted to my carnal pleasure. You will be trained to serve my needs including house boy, bidet, manservant and sex toy. You will revel in obedience and learn to savor the sting of my crop."
She sounded too good to be true! A perfect Dominant "Ying" to my submissive "Yang".
I had to meet this magnificent woman, but what to say? After several failed drafts I typed and sent the following." Mistress Sinthia- your photo is breath-taking. Your interests intoxicating. This sub's heart races at the prospect of serving you. Mistress, please afford me the chance to kneel before you and plead my case. I can only dream you might make me yours to command, use and abuse." I signed it..." your filth slave in waiting."
And wait I did... for two days. Finally, I received a terse response..." Give me three reasons I should grant you an audience. You have until end of day to reply."
My mind raced...what three things could possibly cause her to want to meet me? I began to fabricate thoughts, then realized to have any chance with a woman like this, I would need to be totally sincere. I wrote back saying ..." Mistress Sinthia- your profile makes this sub's heart race; loins swell and filthy mind joyous in anticipation of finally being in the service of the perfect Mistress."
A day later I received the following... "Meet me tomorrow at precisely 11.20am at the Wild Goat coffee bar and bring $500 in cash"- Mistress Sinthia." I immediately arranged to take the next day off!
The following morning, skeptical but excited, I arrived at the parking lot thirty minutes early, pulling into a space that afforded me perfect line of site to the entrance of the Wild Goat coffee bar.
Initially the bar had been busy, but by 11.15 am most of the mid- morning coffee gaggles had dispersed. When I walked in, I saw two retired men complaining about their respective marriages and a weary looking waitress clearing abandoned tables. But no Mistress. I began to panic... do I stand and wait, do I order, do I take a seat at a table?
From behind my left ear, I heard a command..." get me a double expresso, brown sugar on the side... you will have tap water."
A tall woman in a stylish long black leather coat brushed past me and took a seat in the back corner of the room, out of ear shot of the two remaining patrons.
I ordered the coffee precisely as requested and paid. The attendant offered to bring them to the table. "I'll wait", was my response, wanting to serve Mistress personally to make the right first impression.
I was conflicted about next steps. Should I go over to the table and introduce myself? Should I wait until the order was filled? I decided on the latter but the expresso seemed to take for- ever!
Finally, the coffee was ready and I promptly carried it and a glass of water to the table. Not knowing what to say I stammered in an effort to be light hearted... "your order madam." To which Mistress said "And about time boy."
"May I join you?" I asked. "No, that would suggest we are equals, which we most certainly are NOT. You may beg Mistress for permission to sit at her table," she said in a deep commanding voice. "Sorry Mistress", I stammered, turning beet red with embarrassment.
"May I beg your permission to sit at your table please Mistress?" Without looking up she replied "In my presence, you will preface your sentences with may this sub. Ask me again!"
At this stage I was feeling quite out of my depth. I took a breath to settle my nerves and said with as much respect as I could muster..." Please Mistress, may this sub beg to sit at your table?"
" Sit."
As I took a seat opposite Mistress, I could feel her burning stare. She was not merely looking at me, she was sizing me up!
She continued her judgmental review for what seemed like an eternity, then stared straight into my scared eyes. "You lied about your age," she stated. My gaze involuntarily dropped and I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat, confirming her assertion.
