Becoming His Slave

One signature on the paper and I'd signed my life away. His slut. His property. His slave. He's left me here this evening, this beautiful room all mine. The crackling of the fire in the fireplace comforts my nerves, the warmth soothing my senses. He gave me a bottle of wine, the last alcohol I'll have for a very long time. He cares about me. He's letting me process, say goodbye to what I'm leaving behind, prepare for what the morning brings.

Curling up in the comfy leather chair, I pour myself a glass of wine. I'm ready. He left the contract on my table. I have my paper and pens, all different colors, ready to take notes. Where to start? It's overwhelming. Maybe I should have thought about this longer?

My eyes scanning the contract, I have agreed to submit to Master in everything. I have given away all control, no boundaries where I may refuse to obey. My body belongs to him, to be used as he desires. I exist solely for the pleasure of Master. I have agreed to accept punishment as Master sees fit, whether earned or simply for his pleasure.

It's a bit thrilling, I must admit. I have given myself completely to him, no part of me withheld. He is my focus, his pleasure my only desire. Daily I will die to self to live for Master.

He left me an outline of the next six weeks, training and acclimation. I will wear no clothes at any time during the next six weeks. Arrangements will be made for a special belt during my monthly course. I will memorize my poses with daily supervised practice. My list of chores will be posted each morning to be finished before bedtime. During my training I will sleep in the cage by Master's bed. I will take my meals in my cage, as well. Master has underlined the section that states "all holes are open and available for Master, at all times, in all places, in any matter that he sees fit." All holes...I've never been fucked in my ass before. Nerves again.

The next section informs me that as his property, he can do whatever pleases him with my body, including loaning me out to service others. During the six week training period I can expect to be loaned out for service at least once a week. Any other man that receives my services must not cum in my womb. Breeding is reserved for Master.

Loaned out for service, breeding? These were not things I had expected. Why do I feel my pussy filling at the thought? Acceptance. Laying aside societal rules and accepting what it is I've always wanted. This is who I am. Pleasing him, being used for him...I hope I make him proud.

The final section deals with punishment. There's a note that I am to message Master when ready for this section. Picking up the new phone he left for me, I send the message. And wait.

Half an hour later the door opens. There he stands. My Master. Again my pussy swells, as if my body knows what his presence means to me. As if it feels his ownership. He is so tall. I can't take my eyes from him as he strides across the room with an air of complete authority.

"Hello my slut." His eyes drill into mine. "Say hello Master and come kneel at my feet. This is how you will welcome me when I enter your room.

"Hello Master." I cross the floor and lower to my knees.

"Usually I will take your mouth now, but not today. We have business. Strip."

"Strip?" I question.

The back of his hand stung my cheek with a resounding slap. "Yes, slut. Strip. And don't question me again."

Quickly I dropped my clothes to the floor, standing before him trying to hide the shame I'm feeling.

He grabbed a leather strip from the table. It had an O-ring attached to the front. "This is your training collar, Slut. It will be the only thing you are allowed to have on your body until training is over." He placed the strip around my neck and fastened it snugly. "Since we are beginning your training now, you should have it on."

He took my hand and led me to the back wall of the room. Behind a curtain were many hanging straps, what looked like some canes. and a metal ball on the end of a chain. Master attached cuffs to my hands, stretched my arms high over my head and attached the cuffs to a hook hanging from a beam in the ceiling.

"Punishments will be given if or when you break a rule, displease me, or whenever I simply feel like it. You are allowed to cry, or scream, but do not beg me to stop. I will stop when I decide you have had enough. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Yes?" he asked, reaching for a strap. Before I knew what was happening that strap was stinging across my thighs. "Yes what, slut?" Again the strap slapped against my skin.

"Yes Master." I cried, trying to catch my breath.

"That's better Slut. Now let me show you what disobedient little sluts can expect." He picked up speed with the strap, moving up the back of my thighs to my ass. "Hold still, Slut. If you move, this strap may land in the wrong spot. You think it hurts on your ass, imagine it across your stomach."

I couldn't keep the tears from falling, not just from the pain, but from the catharsis. Freedom from myself. At last.

He changed to a long, wooden pole, a cane of some sort, I suppose. The air whistled as the cane split through on its way to striping my ass. Electric white hot pain shot through my body. I felt it leave through my fingertips. He took his time. One lash, waiting the seconds for the pain to travel and ease, next lash. Over and over, I lost count as he striped my thighs, my ass, the fronts of my thighs. He spun me around to face him, cane held high. "Hold very, very still Slut." With that, he brought the cane down across my nipples, a line marking the path between the two.

Exhausted, the tears stopped. I am empty. Spent. Nothing of self left.

"One more thing, my Slut, and you can crawl into that soft bed to sleep for the last time." He walked to the side table and pulled out a wand. "Highest setting, give me three." I heard the buzz as he started the wand. The tip opening my lips to press against my clit.

"Your pain belongs to me, Slut, your pleasure belongs to me. It is your pleasure I demand now. Give it to me. Cum for your Master."

He ground that wand deeper into my clit. I could feel it building deep inside. Fuck! It was going to be a hard one. It rolled over me with such force my knees buckled under me, my shoulders aching from the pull of my body on the restraints.

"One."

Master moved the wand to find a better spot, sensitive, painful. It hurt. Too sensitive. "FUCK!" I screamed.

Master's hand slapped across my face again. "Silence, Slut. Focus on giving me what I desire. Now, cum again."

Screaming I gave in to the pain, the stimulation too much. It's always been too much for me. There was no pleasure in my second, third, or fourth orgasm, just pure pain. Master took them all before he mercifully removed the wand from my throbbing clit.

"Good Slut," Master said as he poured me another glass of wine. Handing it to me, "Drink up. Then get some sleep. The real work begins tomorrow."