Slavery Unfolding Pt 01

The following story is entirely a self-indulgent fantasy. I tried to write it so that any reader could picture themselves as the Owner. To facilitate this effect, I intentionally left out details such as physical appearance, answers to specific questions, etc. Let me know in the comments if I was successful or if the missed details made the story confusing!

You look down on me as I kneel in my natural place at your feet. A small smile creeps to your lips as you watch me struggle to simultaneously keep my gaze down yet my head up. While I have only been serving you a short while, you find my dedication and enthusiasm for the position endearing. Despite my struggle to keep my gaze level, you can't help but admire my position. Underneath the collar that has not left my neck since you accepted my devotion, you had slid a posture collar over my neck and shoulders. The stiff material forces me to kneel tall, forcing my chest out and keeping my head held high.

Lower down my body, I am wearing a tight corset. The icy blue fabric contrasts against the rosy hue of my skin as it bites into my tender flesh. The way my legs are spread causes the muscles in my thighs to tighten and create delicious curves. My sex is on full display for you, glistening from the satisfaction I find in serving you. Though your libido surges when you look down at me-- wishing you would swoop down and claim the pussy being offered to you-- you restrain yourself, content to wait and enjoy the sight before you for a few moments more and think back on how you had obtained your slave.

*****

You had first seen me at a play party a few months before. I had done a scene with a friend where I decorated them with rope while they held me by a leash and slapped me around. You watched with curiosity, drawn in by the care I put into each hitch of the rope and the way my breathing hitched each time I was slapped. You could tell from the way I moved that I had not been trained in servitude, but that I had the potential to excel at it if I were properly molded. When I was finished with the rope art, my friend led me onto the spanking bench behind us and you jealously observed as they beat my ass. You desperately wished to take their place as I thanked my friend over and over for the pain they gave me. Though you had beaten many slaves, submissives and bottoms before, the way my ass wriggled and rippled with each strike drew you in.

Despite the attraction you felt, you chose not to interact with me at that play party, nor the next. Despite your desire, you did not live in a porn movie and you wanted to be careful in your approach. You scoff at your hesitation now, seeing the passion for you that lights up my eyes, even as a line of drool slips out of my mouth from around the gag that is forcing my jaw open wide. Ironically, I reached out first in a way; I made a post on a forum you frequented advertising myself as an unowned slave looking to be claimed. You took that post as a sign to reach out and we quickly set up a meeting.

*****

You dressed smartly for our first meeting, exuding confidence in an outfit that hugged your body in all the right ways. I, on the other hand, was not dressed poorly, but my clothing screamed that it was intentionally chosen as a form of camouflage. The baggy fabric hung from my frame and obscured the thick curves that held so much appeal. You swore to yourself that my fashion sense was one of the first things you would fix when you took me into your care. The choice of clothing echoed the anxieties echoed in my posture and mannerisms. Everything from the way I carried myself to the way my eyes darted around the busy restaurant gave the impression that I was desperate to disappear. You felt a sense of pause again in that moment, even though I had posted about wanting an Owner to serve, consent is a priority and my trepidation worried you.

"Sorry if I seem nervous-- new situations, especially ones involving meeting new people, make my anxiety flare up-- it has nothing to do with you or the arrangement we are here to discuss," I explained as we sat down. While my reassurance helped, you needed to know more before you would feel completely comfortable with the situation.

We spoke for a while, gaining a deeper understanding of one another. Even when I spoke of innocuous things like my family or employment, almost every statement revealed a sense of insecurity that required someone else to step in and take responsibility. Even if I didn't explicitly say it, you could tell my personality was wired for submission. Being in control of my own life left me unmoored and anxious. In that moment you felt a protective urge sweep through you. It was clear that the person sitting across from you was destined for slavery and you yearned to be the one to help them reach that destiny.

I was drawn to your confidence. Your eyes had a mesmerizing fire behind them that danced as you spoke, revealing an intoxicating zeal for life. I felt like a leaf fluttering in the wind, being constantly battered as I drifted through life. On the other hand, from my perspective, you seemed like a stone in a stream. Constantly sampling the joys of life as they flowed past you but still rooted and stable. Capable of remaining steadfast despite the current trying desperately to knock you out of place. Even though we had not yet reached the discussion of submission, I could already tell I would thrive in sharing and strengthening your stability by serving you.

*****

After a few more vanilla dates to reinforce our connection, we met to begin negotiating my servitude. "Alright then, let's begin, what are your hard limits?" You asked matter of fact.

Part of me was startled by the directness of your question but the other part loved your ability to swiftly take control of the discussion. I made an effort to answer your question with the same efficiency "No forced feminization, scat play or marks that cannot be hidden. What about you?"

Though I managed to keep my voice steady while I spoke, the flush in my cheeks exposed my embarrassment. You smirk at my discomfort and answer plainly. You pulled a folder and pen out of your bag, opened it to the first page and wrote a note at the top of the page. I saw that it was some sort of negotiation checklist, filled with a series of questions with space underneath to write the answers.

The negotiation felt like an interview. "How do you feel about being used as a human toilet?" You asked with the same tone of voice one would use to ask a server if their meal came with cheese. My heart skipped a beat at the question. I was torn between my desire to seem appealing and my inclination to be honest. Though my indecision only lasted a moment before I answered honestly (it holds little appeal for me but I would be willing to do it as a part of my service) you noticed my hesitation.

"Honesty is important to me. I would much rather have a slave who would willingly take a punishment for telling me an unpleasant truth than one who would lie to avoid it. This negotiation is how I learn what I need to do to properly take care of you and how I can make the best use of you. If you aren't honest with what you like and what you do not, you will leave both of us disappointed." You explain earnestly. As you speak you reach across the table to grasp my hand. You squeeze firmly, emphasizing your point with your touch.

"I value honesty as well and will make sure to remain honest with you," I reply, squeezing your hand back with a smile.

You continued the questioning, progressing down your checklist at an efficient pace. I admired your thoroughness. The list included questions such as mundane as 'Do you have any allergies?', as thought-provoking as 'What action makes you feel most submissive' and as kinky as 'How large is the largest item that has entered your ass?'. It took several meetings to make it all the way down the list but we both agreed that the effort was worth it. The last question was a simple one.

"What part of servitude are you most looking forward to?" You questioned with a grin. This is your favourite question on the list, hence why you saved it for last.

"Finally feeling safe, cared for and loved, even when I'm being punished or used... I know you were probably hoping for a sluttier answer, but we agreed on honesty." I answered bashfully. Though I could not have told you what expression I expected to see on your face when I met your eyes, brazen adoration and lust were not it. My eyes welled with tears as you closed your folder and reached up to cup my face.

"I think it is time for your first task slave" you whispered "Go to the washroom and get changed." You handed me a bag and I obediently rushed away. The way my ass moved as I walked still drew your gaze, even under my baggy clothing. You licked your lips in anticipation of how good it would look when I returned.

When I got to the bathroom I entered an available stall and opened the bag. Inside was a small black tank top, dark blue shorts small enough to be mistaken for boxers, a strappy pair of thin sandals, a small bottle of lube and a sizable butt plug. I started by stripping and loading both the plug and my asshole up with the lube. Though I had a decent amount of experience with filling my asshole, it still took some effort to push the plug into my body. I moaned as it pushed against my tight hole. As much as I tried to relax, my body still instinctively tried to reject the intruder. Millimeter by millimeter I forced the plug further and further into my ass. I began to worry over how long I was taking when the widest part of the plug slipped in with a satisfying pop. I shook my ass a little, ensuring the plug was solidly in place before I hastened to put on the rest of my outfit.

Pulling the tank top over my head was a little bit of a struggle as it was quite a bit tighter than I was accustomed to. Even when it was finally in place, it barely covered my chest. It didn't come close to covering my stomach I noticed with chagrin. Part of the baggy clothes was to hide just how round I was around my midsection, but in this outfit, my stomach was on display for the world to see. I put my concerns aside and moved on to the rest of the outfit. When I inspected the shorts closer, I noticed there was text covering the back. 'Bite Me' was written in bright red letters across both ass cheeks. Though most people would interpret this as a flippant rebuke, I knew that on my ass, the text served as an invitation. I grinned at the inside joke you created between us as I tied the sandals onto my feet. I put my old clothes into the bag and left the stall. As I passed the bathroom mirror, I did a double take. I had never seen my body this way before and the sight was a shock. Fortunately, I tore my gaze from my reflection quickly as I was eager to return to you to show off the new look you selected for me.

Your jaw dropped when I emerged from the bathroom. You knew the clothes would make a difference but you couldn't have imagined how much. Even though your first glimpse of me had been mostly naked at a play party, the way the fabric you had chosen hugged every curve of my body was almost more revealing than if I were wearing nothing at all. When I see that I have your attention, I teasingly spin, showing off the message on my ass before I continue making my way back to you. Before I reached the table, you threw down a wad of cash to pay for our meal and motioned for me to follow you to the door. I worried for a moment that I had angered you somehow as I rushed to catch up. When I exited the restaurant, you grabbed my arm and pulled me around the corner.

My anxiety was quickly squashed as you pushed me against the wall and buried your face into my neck. You kissed and suckled at the sensitive skin, occasionally brushing my flesh with your teeth. You planted a hand on my shoulder, partially to keep me planted against the wall and partially to steady yourself. The part of me that wasn't completely absorbed in your ministrations felt embarrassed over the wetness that was quickly spreading through my thin shorts. You deftly spread my legs and ran your free hand between them. I could feel your smile as you kissed me and my embarrassment evaporated.

Your fingers manipulated the plug in my ass while you used your thumb to massage my sensitive clit. I moaned quietly, reaching one arm up the wall behind me and using the other to grab the arm keeping me pinned in place. As I wriggled the fingers of the hand above my head, I bucked my hips, fucking myself on your hand. A litany of gibberish flowed from my lips composed of thanks, adoration and moans of pleasure. As much as you enjoyed how the vibrations caused by sounds tickled your lips as you kissed my throat, you moved your attention to my mouth-- silencing my nonsense. I moved my hand down to tangle your fingers in your hair as you brought me closer and closer to orgasm. When I was about to topple over the climax, you suddenly stopped and stepped away.

Astonished at how you could possibly know my body so well, despite this being your first time handling it, I sank to my knees in front of you. You pant as you look down at me, feeling flush and hard with the desire my body fueled in you. Rather than beg you for an orgasm, I put my own desires aside and reached for your fly. You looked shocked as I released your rock-hard member from your pants. That look of shock quickly turned to one of pleasure as I took the head of your cock into my mouth. I began slowly, taking more and more of you into my mouth each time I bobbed up and down. I wrapped one hand around the base of your shaft and used the other to massage your balls. With every movement, I learned more about how to please you. Running the tip of my tongue delicately across the very tip of your penis seemed to be the most effective strategy. Eventually, your cock was hitting the tight part of my throat every time I sucked you into my mouth. Despite my best efforts, I could not relax my throat enough to take in more of your member; but I did what I could to compensate with the attention I paid to your shaft with my tongue. I would find out later that you made a mental note of that fact and would have me train my deep-throating abilities. After a few minutes of licking and sucking, I felt your cock spasm and I locked my lips around you in anticipation. Determined to enjoy every drop of your precious cum, I swallowed eagerly as it burst from your cock and into the back of my throat. You softened in my mouth as I diligently cleaned you before leaning back with my mouth hanging open and tongue out. You look at me for a moment with a look of amazement. When you regain your senses, you place a hand on my head.

"Good, pet" you pant as you run your finger through my hair. You motioned for me to follow you and walked out of the alley toward your waiting car.

*****

Your mind returns to the present. "Prayer slave" you bark, pulling your cock out of your pants.

I turn myself away from you and plant my face into the plush carpeting that covers your office floor. I push my ass up, completing the 'prayer' pose. You had almost forgotten about the cuffs securing my hands behind my back but they only serve to make this position even more appealing. You kneel on the floor behind me and firmly grab my hips. Your fingers sink into my soft flesh as you hold me in place. You line your cock up with my dripping opening and quickly plunge it in with one quick motion. As you pump in and out of me in furious strokes, I rock back and forth to match your pace. Every time we meet in the middle, your balls slap against my clit and your stomach pushes on the plug resting in my ass.

I massage you with the muscles of my tight pussy, a skill you had ordered me to practice since the last time you had fucked me. You moan deeply, expressing that I have made some progress with that specific task. You move your hands to my ass, grabbing it by the handful as you continue to furiously pound me. One of your hands lifts for a moment and you land a satisfying slap across my cheek, leaving a red mark. That was enough to bring me to the edge of climax.

"Please Master, may your slave please cum? Pretty please Master, your glorious cock is too much for this slut to take!" I beg passionately.

You wait for a long moment before replying. The anticipation for your response is almost too much to bear.

"Yes, my slave may cum." You respond, grunting as my pussy convulses around your member, eagerly milking you for pleasure.

"Thank you, Master!" I cry out as my orgasm overtakes me.

My body feels like it has been set aflame as I buck my hips back and forth over your cock. You abruptly pull out, choosing this time that you would use your orgasm to decorate my ass in your delicious cum. You let out a roar as your penis convulses in your hand. It releases several spurts of creamy white cum which covers my ass and thighs.

You wipe your cock on my hands to clean it off and return it to its place inside your pants. You smack my ass hard and place a hand on it to steady yourself as you stand up. Looking at my prone form, you can't help but grin at your fortune. A slave to call your own is all you could have ever hoped for. You gleefully look forward to continuing breaking and moulding it to your desires.