Submissive Desires Inc (femdom)

Himself.

His true self. Buried under those layers of social selves, family selves, expected selves. Under it all, his true desires - his true authentic self.

And what if the true authentic self he finally found was the self desperately wanting to express his true submissive slave desires?

He had lived so long with those deeply buried desires. So long, even though he was barely 23, those desires had seemingly been calling up from the depth to him for his entire life.

He had been with "his" therapist for five years now, the one his family had found to help him since he turned eighteen.

And only now, having himself discovered that discrete add for "Submissive Slave Desires, Inc" and following its seemingly innocuous suggestions - to see one of their suggested therapists in addition to "his" own, to get one of their suggested lawyers in addition to "his" own, to carefully consult "his" therapist and "his" lawyers about what theirs were suggesting. Only now, "his" therapist and "his" lawyers had to admit, despite their strenuous objections, that it was truly his choice, and perhaps his submissive slave desires were as sane and safe as anything "his" own advisors had ever been able to suggest for him.

And so, despite the immense fears shouted frenetically at him by his social selves and family selves and expected selves, he took the plunge, and signed those documents the therapist and lawyer from Submissive Slave Desires had urged on him, and it was finally done:

On paper, he was now penniless and in immense debt; debt to the trust that now possessed all his former immense wealth - the trust that was initially completely under his control, but which he had just turned over to the committee of "his" therapist and lawyers and their therapists and lawyers, a committee whose sole guiding document was his own impassioned and detailed expression of his deep desires.

Submissive Slave Desires, Inc, now controlled his life, with the restraining influence of "his" old advisors keeping him safe enough, but not so "safe" that his true self was prevented from emerging.

*******

The first day of his new life felt amazing, as if an immense weight that had been crushing him was finally lifted.

He was left on the side of a country road, in the middle of nowhere. He was practically naked, wearing a brief ragged loincloth that barely covered his private parts - leaving him in a way more exposed than if he were completely naked. He had been instructed to proceed down the road in his bare feet till he found the rural farm, and then beg to be allowed to work there for just food and shelter. (His immense debt to the trust obligated him to follow such instructions.) Those at the farm were expecting him, had already agreed with Submissive Slave Desire, Inc, to take him in for a substantial monthly fee from his trust, and to earn that fee by treating him as the lowest work slave his own imagination had imagined. ("His" old therapist and lawyers on the committee could not object, that imagination had already been repeatedly documented in that committee's sole guiding document.)

And so his primordial desire, to freely choose to become the lowest of slaves, was at last to be fulfilled.

"What do you you want?" The woman standing near the barn asked as he walked towards her.

"Please madam, can I work here? I don't need to be paid; just food and lodging, of any type you wish to provide, is all I ask."

"Ask? Who are you to ask for anything? I can put you to work right enough; each day, if you have worked hard enough, you might be given some food. Yes, I think I'll let you eat whatever slop the pigs have left each morning."

"Thank you madam."

"Since I do not know you, or how trustworthy you might be, I will have to keep you in chains." And so the farm's resident blacksmith forged metal cuffs for his wrists and ankles, a metal collar for his neck, and locked chains on his limbs.

A couple of field hands were given him as their work slave.

"You will answer to 'slave' boy."

"Yes madam, thank you madam."

"We've been told to thoroughly whip you if you do not work hard enough. To be safe, we will thoroughly whip you regardless of how hard you work."

"Thank you madam."

"Oh, you will have to do better than that in showing your thanks, slave."

He was harnessed to a plow and proceeded to pull it for the next twelve hours, with periodic breaks during which his mouth, penis, or ass was used to service the field hands' desires. A whip was used to direct him as he pulled the plow. And when he serviced one of the field hands the other field hand used the whip on those parts of his flesh that were vulnerable.

Totally exhausted, he was taken to the barn and ordered to clean the horses there thoroughly, scrubbing their coats for hours. Then another round of being used simultaneously by the two field hands.

"Time for bed" they finally said. "Are you thirsty?" Nodding yes, he was taken to a urine soaked puddle outside the barn. Although desperate to slake his thirst, he gagged at the sight; but he also recognized it from so many of his erotic writings, and knew it would not be better in the morning or ever. And the erotic haze that had accompanied him all day reaffirmed itself and he dropped to his knees and drank deeply, until his overseers yanked him away. "Enough."

He was chained on his knees, legs spread wide, his arms pulled upward behind him, his back forced to bend, his head forced downward, "Here's your bed. Rest well."

Strangely enough, he did. Although his body was racked with pain, for the first time in his life he felt content and fulfilled; and the knowledge that this would not be taken from him "for his own good" lullabied him to sleep.