This story takes place in the year 2029. America is a very different place. New laws have abolished personal bankruptcies and debtors' prisons have been revived. Janie, our twentysomething heroine, was about to be sentenced to just such a prison when she was tricked into signing up for a pilot program that keeps her in a kind of chemical captivity. Medicine released within her body causes debilitating nausea and other symptoms every 48 hours, unless she is administered a rescue dose of another medicine. The rescue dose is delivered through the ejaculation of the man for whom she will be a personal domestic servant, a latter-day concubine. In this episode, Janie settles into life with her master, billionaire industrialist Richard Balfour for whom she is working as a Gal-Friday-with-benefits.
Read the earlier chapters if you want to know how Janie got to this point.
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As wild and unpredictable as my life had been these past weeks since entering the program, it felt comforting – even normal – to enter into a sort of routine with Richard. For large parts of the day he left me to my own devices, but then some message would come from him, inviting me to come walking through that closet that connected my bedroom from his.
At times he asked me to come in and help him with his work. He'd have me sit at his computer and sort email messages, even compose some replies on his behalf. At first, he wanted to read these over before I clicked "send," but in time he came to trust me with them. These were not multi-million-dollar negotiations, mind you, just routine correspondence, but still it gave me a sense of satisfaction that he trusted me.
The same went for me, with respect to him. I'd come to appreciate him as a tender and gentle lover, always considerate of my comfort and feelings. He could have raped me whenever he felt like it – I would have put up with it if that's what it took to get his semen inside me – but I could tell such raw violence was no turn-on for him.
Still, I came to learn Richard had certain sexual tastes which definitely deserved the label "kinky." By then, I was hooked on him like a junkie craving her fix, so I would have done just about anything that resulted in his pumping his cum down my throat, or spreading my legs wide and impaling me on that rock-hard cock of his.
It began one day when I was sitting at the computer, sorting email messages for him. "Janie," he said, looking me straight in the eye for the longest time. "I have something for you." He reached into his pants pocket. His hand emerged, the fingers opened, and there I saw, balanced on his open palm, a dog collar.
"Let me explain the circumstances under which you will wear this," he went on. "Its use is entirely voluntary. Yet, when you buckle this collar around your neck, you are telling me your body is mine, that it exists solely for my pleasure, that anything I do to you is all right with you, as long as it brings me pleasure."
His eyes met mine for a moment. He could see a hint of fear in them, so he went on: "You should know by now that, although you are my concubine, I care deeply for you. I would do nothing to cause you serious pain, nor give you any disfiguring injury. Yet even so, as I've explored not only your bodily orifices but also your inner spirit, I've come to realize there is something of the submissive in you. This goes beyond the control I exercise through the chemical compounds that flow from my body to yours. You really enjoy being my concubine, don't you?" He reached down and lifted my chin with the fingers of his other hand, the one not holding the dog collar. "Am I right about that?"
I blushed and, ever so slowly, nodded my head.
"I thought so. Now, my Janie, I want you to give yourself to me wholly and utterly. You will give to me not only your body, but also your inner self, your spirit. The way you will show me this is truly what you want is by taking this collar and putting it on."
I gazed back at him, knowing I was blushing even more. My mouth was dry. I was trembling slightly.
"This is not something I expect of you as a condition of your employment. If you decline to wear the collar, our relationship will continue as before. I will give you what your body needs, and in exchange you will strip and spread for me, or open that pretty little mouth of yours to swallow my prick. Yet if you do choose to put it on, it will make me very happy."
I began to breathe hard. An unexpected thrill of excitement came over me, in anticipation of what would come next – though I really had no idea what would come next.
I looked down and saw the dog collar in his open hand, an invitation to a new level of depravity. I can't recall making the conscious decision. As though I were outside my own body, I watched as my hand reached out to his and picked up the collar. Then, my eyes fixed on his, I buckled it around my neck.
