Becoming Hazel's Toy

The first time I saw her, I was walking through the halls, trying to get to my next class. She was leaning against one of the school vending machines, talking to another girl. I remember being totally awestruck. She was of medium height, with short dark hair stopping just above her shoulders, and stunning auburn eyes. She was wearing black, knee high, shiny leather boots, which I found a surprising choice for a college freshman.

After that day, I would see her every so often in the halls, or in class. She's a psychology major. Although I had never talked to her at that point, she became all I could think of. Eventually, I think she started to notice my fascination with her. When I would find the courage to glance at her, she would always meet and hold my gaze, with a smile, such that I would quickly look away, blushing uncontrollably.

Her eyes were of particular interest to me. They were, of course, beautiful, but what made them special was their dark, deep, intelligence, as though you could see through them the thousands of thoughts that would appear in her mind as she spoke to you. Her dad's a lawyer, he drives a Bentley. Her name is Hazel.

My name's Joshua, or Josh as most people call me. My parents are divorced, so right now I'm living with my Dad and his new wife. We're middle class: my Dad works in sales somewhere, my Mum is a high school teacher. I'm 19 years old.

I'm studying English literature at the moment. I tell people I want to go to law school after college and become a lawyer, but the truth is I don't have that much direction in my life. My priorities are short term: writing that next essay, prepping for that next exam, getting fit for the summer. My life is comfortable, albeit unexciting, but all that is about to change.

She took a class on Jane Austen in the fall, so did I. I remember arriving early to our first class and sitting at the front, unaware that she had signed up as well. When she walked through the door a minute before class started, I dropped the pencil I had been twirling in my finger, and it fell on the floor. She walked over to me as I was picking it up.

"Hi, I'm Hazel," she said.

"Uh hi, I'm Josh," I answered, looking up at her.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked.

"Oh no, go for it," I replied.

She took the seat to my right and took off her coat. She was wearing a white tank top with the Metallica logo, a skirt, and those same boots I saw her wear the first time I laid eyes on her. I tried not to stare.

"I've already met this year's requirements for my major, so I thought I would take this class for fun. I'm a Psych major," she said, as she pushed her dark hair behind her ears.

"Oh cool!" I replied, trying my best to pretend I didn't already know her major. "Psychology sounds interesting".

"It is!" she answered. "It's fun learning about the human mind and how it works," she looked at me, "what makes people tick," she smiled.

I smiled and looked away so she wouldn't see me blush. We made small talk throughout the class, and I tried to act cooler than I was. When the lesson ended, she asked for my number. She said since I was a literature major, she might need to talk to me for help on her homework. I tried my best to conceal my excitement. Could it be we had hit it off? Or did she just want to use me for homework? I thought the second possibility was more likely, and cycled home.

I felt my suspicions were confirmed a few days later, when I received a text from her.

"Hi Josh, I'm struggling with the essay on Pride and Prejudice... Would you be OK to come to mine so we can maybe discuss ideas? Would be a huge help," she wrote.

My heart beat faster as I contemplated the idea of seeing her at her house, and although I was only helping with her essay, my mind raced with the possibility that she might have some other purpose in mind, inviting me over.

Her house was a 20-minute bike ride away from mine, uptown. It stood in a fancy-looking gated community, and the guardian at the gate of the square made me get off my bike. Her place was the number 6, Pineton Close, and it was 5 stories tall. I glanced up at it as I made my way through the front yard, and was struck by its size and its grandeur. I could tell the house was old, from the bricks and the overall architecture, but it was also clearly well maintained. The front yard implied the labour of a team of gardeners, and the front door was dark red.

After a few deep breaths, I rang the doorbell.

I waited by the door for a little under a minute, and was just about to ring a second time when Hazel opened.

"Hi Josh!" she said as she hugged me. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing OK," I replied, "almost done with my essay".

"Oh good! So you can help me with mine," she said.

I followed her through the house up to the 5th floor, where her bedroom was, and we sat on her bed. The inside of her house was similar to the outside, and old paintings of people and landscapes were perched on almost every wall.

"I've been having some trouble answering the question I chose," she confessed. "They want me to examine the character flaws of Elizabeth Bennett, but I can't find any".

"Ah, I see," I answered. "Well, I guess you could say she's prideful," I offered.

"Oh really? Why do you think that?" she said.

"Well, for example, when Mr Darcy dismisses her looks at the start of the novel, she holds a grudge against him for months. Also, she refuses the advances of Mr Collins, even though this disappoints her mother. Near the end of the book, when Lady Catherine forbids her from marrying Mr Darcy, she rebukes her," I told her.

"So, you see women standing up for themselves as a character flaw?" she replied, turning to face me.

"Oh, uh, of course not, that's not what I meant," I stammered nervously. After all, it hadn't been what I had meant. How had I messed up so fast?

"Just joking," she laughed, "you should see the look on your face".

I laughed as well, and felt relief wash over me.

"I see what you mean, Josh, but I feel that pride isn't a flaw for a beautiful, intelligent, woman like Elizabeth," said Hazel. "Don't you think that a woman like that should get what she wants?". As she said this she stared deep into my eyes.

"Oh uh, yes I guess so," I offered, feeling uncomfortable again. Had I upset her? I felt myself melt under her intense gaze, feeling her analyze every facial expression, every tremor in my voice.

"To me it seems Lizzy's only character flaw was not being assertive enough. She allows herself to be intimidated by Darcy," she explained. "If I were her, I would have put him in his place and had him at my feet".

The assertiveness, confidence, and power with which she delivered those lines made me tremble, yet, at the same time, I felt strangely that I had somehow grown even fonder of her. She laughed, and I followed suit.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, and I helped her with her essay. After a few minutes of work I started to suspect that she didn't much need my help, and had already decided on the direction her essay would take. She was going to argue what she had told me, and demonstrate that Elizabeth's main weakness was her subservience to the men in her life, which she felt was too great, even though the heroine was already far more independent than most women at the time.

At half past midnight, we had finished her essay, and she thanked me for my help and walked me to the door.

"We should do this again sometime," she offered, smiling.

"Oh uh yes, totally," I replied.

I rode home through the night, somehow even more in awe of her.

The next day was a Saturday, and I woke up at 10 am. I had spent the night in a strange dream involving Hazel. In that dream I had been naked, with my hands cuffed together behind my back. I was kneeling on the floor, and Hazel was sat in front of me on what looked like a throne, wearing those same leather boots she always wore, except this time, she was making me kiss them. There I was, kneeling on the floor, totally naked, kissing a woman's boots.

While this was disturbing enough, what confused me most was how much I was enjoying it. My whole body was tingling with sensations of pure pleasure, and my mind exploded with ecstasy whenever she would call me degrading names like "slut" or "slave". I felt totally under her control, and yet this feeling of intense subservience and devotion filled me with joy.

I had encountered similar scenarios on some of the pornographic websites I would sometimes frequent, but had never taken an interest in them. I washed my face with cold water, and went downstairs to get some breakfast, hoping to clear my mind of such strange ideas.

I was having my cereal, lost in thought, when I felt my phone vibrate. It was Hazel.

"Hi Josh! Do you wanna come hang out at my place today, since its Sunday?" read the text.

I could hardly contain my smile. I replied "Of course!" and grabbed my bike. A few minutes later and I was on her doorstep, ringing the bell again. She opened the door, and to my surprise she was wearing a bathrobe.

"I've just finished by bath," she explained, "I hope you don't mind".

We made small talk as she led me upstairs to her bedroom again. She told me that her essay had received an A+, and that she was grateful for my help. I said I was happy to have helped her, and that she had done most of the work herself, which was true. She lied on her bed while I sat on the edge, and we spoke pleasantly for a few minutes. She told me about her friends, about her parents, and about her studies, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was on her mind. Every so often she would look into my eyes with an air of inexpressible mischief, that made my throat tighten.

"Hey Josh," she asked, "could you do a favour for me?"

"Of course," I replied.

"I've just been to dance practice, and my feet are still killing me," she explained, "could you give me a foot massage?"

I was stunned by the intimacy of the request, but not wanting to disappoint her I quickly agreed. I had never given a foot massage before, so I stood gingerly by the edge of her bed, over which she had dangled her feet, and placed my hands on her ankles.

"Not like that, silly!" she chuckled, "Try getting on your knees in front of the bed," she instructed.

Without thinking, I did as she told me, and found that I was now kneeling in front of her feet. Suddenly, I was hit with the memory of last night's dream, and was struck by how prescient it had been. This coincidence baffled me, but I had little time to think as I focused my energies on trying not to embarrass myself. I had never given a foot massage before, but I did my best, and Hazel, who had picked up a book, would often murmur words of approval to me such as "good job" and "you're doing so well". For some reason I can't explain, each word of positive reinforcement she gave me would bring inexplicable joy, and I felt a growing sense of happiness. Eventually, and to my surprise, I started to feel my penis grow and twitch inside my pants. I began to worry that Hazel would notice, and tried my best to will myself not to get hard, but it was to no avail.

After about a quarter of an hour, Hazel thanked me, and went to change into her night clothes. While she was gone, I quickly placed a pillow on my groin area to hide my growing bulge. She returned after a few minutes, in a beautiful nightgown, looking more stunning than ever, and sat in front of me on the bed.

We spoke some more, and she asked me lots of questions about myself, about my parents, past girlfriends, and plans for the future. After an hour or so, we sat in silence, and she turned to look at me.

"Josh," she said, "I quite like you". My heart began to beat faster. "Would you like to be my boyfriend?"

I couldn't believe what was happening.

"Oh, uh, of course! I mean, uh, yes!" I stammered.

She laughed lightly, and smiled. Without warning, she leaned over to me and kissed me on the lips. Her kiss was surprisingly forceful, as she sat herself on my lap. I began to lift my hand to hold her head, but she abruptly pinned it down onto the bed. After a few seconds of kissing, she broke it off, and went back to lying down.

"It's getting late, don't you think?" she told me, "You wouldn't want your parents to worry you've been kidnapped," she said, and winked at me.

I gathered my things, and she walked me to the door. Standing on the steps leading to the entrance, she wished me a good night, and kissed my forehead.

Unable to think straight, my cheeks burning, I began to make my way back home.

The next few days were largely uneventful. I was euphoric most of the time, daydreaming about Hazel, and thinking about how lucky I was. Hazel would meet me after class, and we'd spend some time chatting on a bench or in a park.

On Thursday, she invited me back home.

"I have a surprise for you," she confessed.

Curious to know what she had planned, I followed her home. Autumn was by now in full swing, and large orange leaves were scattered all over the wet pavement.

We sat down on her bed as usual, and began talking. After a few minutes, she went to a corner of her room, and pulled a small black box from a cupboard.

"Joshua, do you believe that loyalty is important to a relationship?" she asked me.

"Oh, yes, of course," I answered.

"And so, will you be loyal to me as my boyfriend?" she continued, "will you shun the attention of other women?"

"Of course," I answered. I was being sincere.

"How can I be sure?" she asked me.

That question took me aback. I didn't know how to answer it.

"I think I know," she said, and smiled mischievously at me.

Reaching into the black box she had now placed between her thighs, she pulled out what looked like a small steel frame, with a padlock attached.

"This is called a chastity cage, Josh," she explained, "I want you to wear it for me".

"Oh uh, ok," I answered. I didn't want to admit I had no idea what that was.

After a few seconds of silence, she looked at me and laughed.

"You'll have to pull down your pants, Josh," she said.

"Oh, uh, what?" I stammered. Was she making a joke?

"Don't worry, Josh, you trust me, right?" she asked, looking sincere.

"Yes," I answered, still confused.

"Stand up for me," she said, and I did as she told me.

Hazel walked up to me, still holding the device, and began to undo my belt.

I was totally shocked, but I let her pull my pants down, and soon I felt the cold embrace of hard steel on my groin. Hazel locked the cage in place and stood up to admire her work.

"Perfect," she said to herself, taking a few steps back. She slipped the key to the padlock into her right pocket, and moved towards me. A whirlpool of thoughts and emotions was blowing through my mind. What was going on? What had just happened?

Interrupting my thoughts, Hazel suddenly kissed me hard on the mouth.

"Be a good boy and get on your knees," she ordered.

I was totally shocked. She had never spoken to me like that before. What was she doing? Surprised and bewildered, I did as she told me. Slowly, calmly, Hazel took a seat on the bed in front of where I was kneeling.

"Now kiss my thigh, Josh," she asked me. I did as she was told, feeling my cock strain against the cage.

"Good boy," she said, after I had kissed her thighs for a while, "now take off my panties".

At this point I was too confused to question what she told me to do. I did as I was told, and found myself facing her neatly trimmed pussy.

"Now lick me," she ordered.

Almost in trance, I began to eat her out, tasting her for the first time. She tasted amazing. I continued to eat her out for what seemed like an eternity, and she would routinely grab the back of my head and pull me further into her, such that my face was totally covered in her juices. All this time my cock would strain desperately against its cage, so that the only release I could find was in her pleasure, causing me to lick her with doubled intensity. After half an hour, Hazel's moans increased in intensity until her thighs begin to quiver, and her perfect body was rocked by an orgasm. Once it had subsided, my tired, kneeling frame could only watch in submissive awe as she stood up, and put on her panties again.

"That was good, Josh," she said, approvingly. She smiled impishly and looked straight into my horny, pleading, eyes: "I think I made the right choice choosing you as my boyfriend."

T.B.C.