Chloe & Me

Chapter One-3

“Now boy, listen very carefully.” She whispered next to my ear. “You have all night to decide what you want to do, you could refuse to be mine or you could try to deny the evidence. Understand me clearly though; every person on your computer would be E-mailed a full copy of these fine prints if you do not comply. Our respective parents will find the video of you in the garden, who knows what they will do, or of course, you could always accept the situation, even enjoy it I suspect. However, think carefully, if you accept you will become mine totally. You will be at my beck and call; you will obey my every command, for the rest of your life. Who knows one day, a long time from now, I might grant you your freedom, for now though you rest here and think, in the morning I want your answer.”

She stood up, stepped away from the bed and out of my sight. I could still hear her as she crossed the room, then she returned once again.

“Open your mouth my little baby!”

The words sounded so sweet, so caring, but they were misleading. She pushed a rubber object lightly into my mouth. It didn’t stop me from breathing, or even I suppose shouting; but I recognised it immediately as a babies dummy and felt the return of humiliation. She fixed it by its ribbon behind my head and then took some more photos. As a final act of domination over me, she rubbed at my groin, my reaction to her touch causing me instant pain, which flood through my bound c**k. I had to try very hard not to get an erection that night. She was gone, leaving me to my torment, fear and thoughts.

That night passed slowly, eventually I fell asleep only for an extreme pain to explode down the length of my partially erect c**k and awaken me repeatedly. The tight bindings that she had fitted did their work well, wire wrapped around my flesh pulled tight, cutting deep into my bulging c**k head each time, waking me in an agony of aroused pain. I forced myself to count, to think of anything but my position, alas she had planted a seed deep into my thoughts, thinking about anything else was impossible so the pain continued.

Dawn arrived with me still bound and helpless but having reached the only practical decision available to me. I was caught, a fish on her hook, her slave to be. Now all that remained for me to do was to place myself under her total control, and accept that she was now Mistress over me. She entered my room with a door-shoving flourish of eagerness. I could see little at first of her countenance because the curtains darkened the room. She reached out, jerking them apart, an evil smile on her face as she turned her gaze to my bound state.

“Slept well.” She laughed! Her throat wobbled, her lips parted, she looked terrible and at the same time gloriously imperious. She wore a white starched blouse, over a dark grey mid-length skirt. A thick leather belt encircled her slim waist. Finally, I glanced down unable to meet her penetrating eyes; the scorn in them for me seemed to burn my friable skin. She reached out to pat my bound genitals, a perfect show of her utter contempt for me. Then undoing the bindings at my wrists, she released me. Telling me to free myself, to clean up and to report for questioning to the kitchen, with her instructions given she was gone, leaving me alone, whilst expecting them to be obeyed.

Alone and free I quickly released my bonds, I was desperate to get to the loo, but the bindings would first have to be removed and they were both tight and complex. Eventually I felt the immense pleasure and relief as I emptied by bladder down the toilet. I looked into the mirror seeing my naked countenance, for the first time it appeared to me to no longer represent a creature with free will. I looked upon a very different reflection of myself, seen through eyes filled with resignation and some hope.

Gone was the pleasure seeking male. Replacing it was a slave, tightly bound to an owner. There of course was absolutely nothing different in my appearance, save only the thought processes passing behind my eyes. ‘Move slave’ I told myself, wondering if I should dress before appearing before my first real Mistress. She had not told me to, should or could I appear naked before her, would she take offence at my nudity or should I dress, and risk offending her by my clothes? What would she want, what actions would please her the best? Finally, I decided that as her slave, I should appear naked and vulnerable into her presence. I would be showing that my decision to serve her was both total and permanent.

I hurried downstairs to the kitchen, pathetically enjoying the feeling of freedom as my balls bounced and swung with every step I took. I reached the door, I knelt, mimicked characters I had seen in my limited collection of domination magazines. I knew what to do. I reached up and hesitantly knocked my knuckles against the closed wooden door and waited.

“Enter!”

I turned the handle, pushing against the door, which was my only protection from her inside. With my head suitably lowered, I entered on my hands and knees, as befitted I, her slave. I entered slowly into the room, crawled forward to where she was sitting waiting for me; I showed her that I had accepted that I am now her property.

Halting, head down at her black high-heeled boots, one of which was swinging hypnotically before my eyes, her legs were crossed, her skirt trailed behind it as the lower leg moved, I waited, captivated. Wondering how my life could have been so easily changed, and in such a powerful way. Ten, twenty, then thirty heart-tearing, fear-filled seconds passed before she acknowledged my presence. Her hand lightly brushed against my hair, reaching down my neck then around, her fingers slipped delicately under my chin, she lifted my head. She wanted eye contact; my nakedness was not enough for her. She wanted to see my fully expected submission to her, clearly burning in my slave’s eyes.

“Good morning, I take it you have made a decision, and by the looks of you it is both right and wise!”

I nodded, struck dumb by the meaning behind her words. If I had any doubts about her seriousness, then they would have vanished completely right then.

“Do you wish to be my slave, to serve me and my wicked whims?”

Still my vocal cords refused to respond, my c**k tried to speak for me, but its demonstration of submission was hidden from her sight.

“Well, slave, I don’t like being kept waiting --- answer me!”

I nodded my head, feeling her sharp pointed nails digging into the tender flesh beneath my jaw.

“Good, at last an answer.”

“Stand!”

I stood.

“Coffee!” She pointed.

I walked to the kettle feeling her eyes burning into my naked striped buttocks.

“Two mugs!”

She was allowing me to have one; I felt honored, which was strange but a new and exciting feeling for me. I made the two mugs, placing them in front of her and then I stood and waited. She pointed to the end chair, I took one mug and sat as she had indicated, silent, not trusting myself to speak, knowing that she had clearly seen my arousal.

With a casual almost unconcerned flick of her wrist, she spun a piece of paper across the table; it came to rest next to my untouched coffee, shortly followed by a black biro. I looked down at the paper, it was neatly typed out, and it was, to my horror, headed:

SLAVE CONTRACT

I read on, the document bound me to serve her, it sold me body and soul to her, at the end it had a box marked ‘sign here voluntarily,’ to become a formal slave or leave now.

I looked up, meeting her amused eyes; she was smiling across at me, waiting for me to sign. I did not have long, I knew that she would very quickly get annoyed; she has a temper, which can flair like lightning, but fades equally as quickly. I picked up the pen, looked into her eyes for the last time as a free entity, and signed myself away. She took the paper when I offered it to her, she folded it neatly then putting it away into her hand-bag, which hung off the chair arm, until then unnoticed by me. I was sold to her, a piece of paper signed by me, without pressure, other than blackmail, and my freedom was removed from me. She could do as she wished and we both knew it.

“Well slave, now let’s get down to business, there are a few rules that from now on you will obey instantly, or suffer the consequences!”

She fingered her closed bag lovingly.

“You will obey my every command, you will be my toy, my personal toy, and I shall always be very careful to ensure that you are trained and used appropriately, do you understand?”

I nod still unable to speak, I understand, I was her toy, whatever that meant! Signing that document was the beginning for me of a totally new and different life. I had gone from free male, to bound slave with the flick of a biro. Chloe now ruled my life, and it was going to change…