Jason was completely fed up with his life, or lack thereof. He hated his job, he didn't give a shit about his fucked-up family, and he had less than no interest in the giggling girls who threw themselves at him at work. As if he'd fuck any of the mindless twits. He needed more, and he knew it. Especially regarding his sex life. Or, again, lack thereof.
He'd tried to have a couple of relationships in college. But those girls were surprisingly idiotic, too. And weak. Most of them wouldn't even assert themselves enough to choose a damned movie. Why did every girl he met assume that men wanted a stupid, mindless, malleable plaything?
For years he'd fantasized about a strong woman. One that could take control of him, and his needs. His fantasies were fed by the internet, and endless websites that he had spent too much money subscribing to. One in particular, The Society, had become his favorite over the years. He'd finally unsubscribed to the others, and focused all of his spare time on that one.
It was an elaborate fantasy world. There were Dom/me's that were all wealthy and powerful. Their dungeons were a submissive's dream come true. Filled with horses, swings, punishment benches, impaler towers, spreader bars, and even puppy cages. And lots of naked, eager men and women that The Society called "darling toys".
The Domm/me's controlled it all. Starting with the leashes of the seemingly endless toys, who were all used in every way imaginable. The toys were fucked, and used to fuck each other. They were pissed on and gagged and cropped and took dildos, fists, cocks, clamps, and every other implement known to man in every orifice of their bodies. He'd watched it all, and wished that he was one of those toys.
Then there were the "dear slaves". Those ones were one step above the toys. The males were dressed in leather straps across their chests to denote their status. The females wore short togas that were cut to reveal their breasts and ended low on their waists. Nothing important was hidden by their clothes. They organized trains on the willing toys. They even plied whips and canes occasionally. They were used, and commanded to use the toys. The idea of being one of them, balancing between submission and domination, shook him to his core.
Every once in awhile a "beloved submissive" would show up. All the ones he saw were female, and were the most favored of the Dom/me's toys. They wore longer togas that covered their assets, but were easily slipped up to allow access to their asses and pussies. There was one in particular that caught his eye. Siena. She was the beloved submissive of Master Jacob. He used her in the most amazing ways.
He'd watched Siena being tied to horses, whipped, (surprisingly lightly), and then fucked for hours. Master Jacob had looked on, smiling while he fucked male toys' assess and female toys' pussies. But the Dom never seemed to come in any of them.
Master Jacob only came in his beloved sub Siena, at least for the camera. But that only happened after she was thoroughly cleaned of all other come by laving tongues. Jason had masturbated countless times to their erotic shows. He'd fantasized about being one of those toys, licking Siena's holes clean for Master Jacob.
After one particularly shitty day at work, Jason stormed into his apartment and slammed the front door angrily before locking it. The fucking asshole on the phone had screamed at him for thirty minutes. Jason had figured out long ago that people felt like they could be pricks over the phone when they'd never talk to him like that face to face. It had royally fucked up his call times, and his bitchy boss had given him shit for not reaching his quota.
He jerked off the hated tie and tossed it on his bed. Why the fuck did he have to wear one in a call center, anyway? It wasn't like any of the callers ever saw him. Rolling his eyes at the stupid rules, he gritted his teeth in frustration and sneered as he looked around his slightly messy apartment. The best he could say for it was at least the dishes were done.
He hated this fucking studio, too. The neighbors were always fighting over God knows what. The fire station two blocks over must be the most overworked station in the city, because sirens were constantly blaring day and night. And the fucking toilet still leaked after five months of his complaints.
Jason poured himself a whiskey and sat down at his computer. Flicking it on, he scowled and considered just packing up and moving somewhere. Anywhere. But as far as he could tell, every other place would be just as shitty as this one. Fuck it. At least he had The Society.
While the crappy old computer booted up, he stripped off his button-up shirt and sighed. Hanging it and his slacks up in the meager closet, he rolled his eyes at the other identical white shirts and black slacks. What a boring fucking life.
Slouching back into the chair in front of his computer, he navigated to The Society's website and logged on. When the screen flickered, then went black, he scowled. If his computer died, he might finally lose his mind and go postal. To his shock, the screen lit up with Siena's face.
"Greetings. You have been chosen among The Society's devotees for a very special invitation. Mistress Elena will be choosing a new toy for individual training. If you are interested, report to Hangar Eight at Pleasant Valley Airport on Tuesday at nine in the morning. Late applicants will not be accepted."
Jason reeled back. What the fuck? This couldn't be real. Mistress Elena? The most requested Trainer of all The Society? It was impossible. It was all fake, right? She was just an actress. Right? Maybe this was a cute way of auditioning for more actors?
But why here, in Pleasant Valley? Which was a misnomer if he'd ever heard one. There was very little about this valley that was pleasant. Shaking his head from the random thoughts, he stared at the screen.
Siena faded, and the normal site popped back up. Shaking, he clicked on the ornate door that led to Mistress Elena's Dungeon. A list of videos came up, but he ignored those. He'd already watched all of them. Many, many times. Her door was always the first he clicked on. Much to his frustration, nothing new had been posted for almost a month.
But there was a new icon at the top of the page now. It looked like an engraved invitation, and it was addressed to "casub243", which was his logon name. He'd chosen it before he knew that The Society's definition of sub did not quite meet most of the D/s community's. Clicking on the icon, he held his breath.
Mistress Elena filled the screen. She was leaning back, relaxed and smiling on a gold and cream striped chaise lounge. Dressed in a fluffy white robe, her normal severe braid had been released, and her thick black hair fell in soft waves, framing her face and tumbling over her shoulders. She held a glass of champagne loosely in one hand, and was smiling happily.
It was the smile that shook him the most. He'd seen a wide range of emotions on her beautiful face. Stoic, disapproving, approving, and even a bit of amusement here and there. But never that happy smile.
He focused on the scene behind her for a second. The lounge sat in front of a wide picture window. The angle showed off elaborate gardens in the background, and a thick forest behind them. Luxurious curtains framed the window, and he realized that film setting had to have been very expensive. It was fascinating. He'd only ever seen her in her dungeon before. They hadn't spared any expense for that setting, either.
"Your interest has not gone unnoticed, little one. But it is not enough to be interested. We have rules, and expectations. Very few who apply are accepted. In this case, only one. This is a private invitation. One would hope that you would not be so crass as to bring a friend along."
Jason's breath quickened. Was this for real? Real real? Was it possible? And if so, how had he gotten a special invitation? But the website operators could track which videos he watched, and how often. Maybe... Her voice broke into his thoughts again.
"If you are chosen, I will train you, and I will keep you. As you are well aware, I demand obedience, and worship. In return for which, I will offer guidance and support on your journey into total submission to my will. This is not a game, little one. Think carefully before you apply."
When Mistress Elena lifted her glass in a small salute and drank, the screen blanked out again. Mistress Elena's main site came back up. Jason shook his head and took a fiery gulp of whiskey. No way. There was no way that this was real. But why the fuck would they have given him an address to go to?
The website obviously made huge amounts of money. It was professionally maintained, with new videos constantly being posted. It wasn't like someone from The Society would want to lure him to a hanger at the airport to steal his wallet. Downing the remaining whiskey, he did exactly as Mistress Elena ordered, and thought carefully.
Tomorrow was Tuesday. At nine in the morning he had to be in his seat at work, or he would be written up. But he wouldn't actually be fired. Just get a ration of shit from his boss. Chewing on his lip, he clicked on one of his favorite videos of Mistress Elena training a toy.
The toy was tied to a submission bench in her elegant dungeon. She instructed him to take a huge butt plug deep in his ass.
"Suck on it with your asshole, toy. Caress it. Pull it in, and push it out. Not all the way. Just until it hurts."
She stepped back. The camera focused on the plug moving in time to the toy's rhythmic grunts and moans of pleasure.
