Clara's Story Pt. 01

She looked throughout the apartment for the keys or whatever it might have been that would release this thing from her body. Surely he wouldn't lock it onto her without giving her an avenue for release in the event of an emergency. She found nothing but a handwritten note atop a pile of clothes --a white denim skirt on the shorter side, a black and white striped slouch shirt and a black, strapless bra. A pair of high heels and a tube of her reddest lipstick were also in the pile.

"This outfit looks suitable for today," the note read.

[Clara Newman 9:25 AM] Professor Kline, where did you leave the key for this thing? It's seriously stuck to my skin.

She checked her phone obsessively for the next half hour, but received no response. She needed to discuss this with him immediately and so she drove herself to campus and snuck into a seat in the back of the lecture hall where she knew he was teaching. "Miss Newman," Professor Kline called out as she slid into the back row. The entire class turned to look at her. "You're welcome to join the lecture. Why don't you take a seat up here," he gestured to an empty chair in the front row, opposite of his podium. "I saved it for you. As I told the class, I was pretty sure that a red-headed woman from the Monday/Wednesday group would be joining us today to reinforce the material she learned just yesterday. I'm glad you decided to come." Clara sheepishly descended the lecture hall steps and settled herself into the front row seat that he indicated was hers.

After a short while, Clara's phone pinged in the lecture hall and she discreetly pulled it from her purse to read the message.

[Message from Unknown 10:45 AM] I see you wore the outfit I left out for you. I'm very pleased, pet. You look stunning. Open your legs for me. I want to see my handiwork.

She didn't even see Professor Kline touch his phone. How did he do that? With subtle movements, Clara leaned back in her chair and spread her knees. He casually glanced between them and frowned.

[Message from Unknown 10:48 AM] pet, you were given an outfit to wear. Panties were not a part of that. You can still fix this. Get up, excuse yourself and go to the ladies' room. Remove your panties and deposit them in the trash. Return to your seat and display your pretty jewelry for me.

Again, he never touched his phone! Clara excused herself and returned a few minutes later to take her seat and resume her note taking. She casually spread her knees once again and he glanced at her. Between her creamy thighs, the golden cup peeked out. He could see the perforations in it and he imagined that she had to have relieved herself by now. He wondered if the task had been difficult for her. Maybe it had been humiliating to have to piss right into the cup and wait for the liquid to drain all the way out. He smiled inwardly at the thought of it, and he looked at Clara with pride. That was his owned pussy behind that cup, and that that was his girl who was carrying out his bidding.

[Message from Unknown 11:04 AM] Perfect! Well done. I'm proud of you, pet.

"I need to speak to you!" Clara told him after he concluded his lecture.

"I imagine you do, and you may, at 4pm in my office."

"I can't talk to you now?"

"Unfortunately, no. I have office hours, tutoring and another class to teach. Be lucky you joined the college algebra class and not the differential equations class I have later on."

She looked annoyed. "Fine. I'll see you at 4pm. Can I just get the key or whatever is needed to remove the uh... metal carapace from my crotch? Chastity is kind of my kink and I really need to uhm...." She blushed furiously leaving her sentence unfinished.

Oh, I know this is your kink. Good news, pet. It's my kink too. Ian let out a hearty laugh. "No." he answered simply. "That will not be coming off of you without my direct supervision. He pulled her in and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Why don't you work on your math homework between now and 4pm. Knock my socks off with how well it is completed, then we can talk about that orgasm you want." He leaned into her and whispered huskily into her ear, "You smell amazing, my sweet, aroused pet. I bet you're soaking wet under there."

Clara's face turned red. He can smell my arousal? she thought with horror. She wanted to protest and demand the key from him. She wanted to report him to... someone, and have them make him give her the key. But in doing that, she will have to tell them that he locked some strange thing onto her pussy that she agreed to, and she was not ready to go down that road. Do I even have proof that he is the one who did this?

Her eyes narrowed at him. "I'm going home to shower and put on a clean pair of panties!" It was her intention to be defiant. She wanted to express her independence to him and set boundaries that she would expect him to follow.

His hand snaked around her upper arm and he pulled her close once again. "No, no, little pet. That's not how this works. You may go home and take a shower, but you do not put panties on without my permission, is that clear? I want you back here at 4 o'clock in this outfit; the outfit I picked for you for the day."

Perhaps defying the man who held her pussy hostage was not a wise idea. She decided she would do the homework, knock his socks off, and get him to give her the key. Do I really even want the key? Maybe it would be more fun to let him hold it for a bit. She had to admit that his authoritative tone was incredibly sexy. As long as he was letting her out on a regular basis and demonstrating his good intentions as a keyholder, maybe it was okay to let him leave her locked up for a bit. But only a little bit, she told herself.

=====

Clara softly knocked on the door to Professor Kline's office. "Come in, Clara," he announced. She opened his door and took her seat on the other side of his desk when he invited her to. Smiling, she pulled out her paper and passed it over to him. He looked exceedingly pleased when he first browsed it, and then leaned back in his chair and examined it more carefully. His expression looked less and less impressed as he continued to review her work.

"Please take out your phone." She did so, placing the device on his desk. "Unlock it," he told her. She brought the device to her face and opened it with her image. "Hand it to me." He held out his hand but Clara hesitated. She was not accustomed to allowing people to browse through her phone. There was private material that she kept on it that she didn't want Professor Kline to find.

"Now," he said firmly. "I am not interested in your messages with friends, or the things you search on your private browser." In fact, he was very interested in her messages, posts, and her browsing habits, but he already had that data. She hesitantly handed him her phone and he brought up the apps. "Ah, there it is; FlickerMath." His pupils widened for just a second before he said, "Well, look here! It was just installed today."

"Fuck," Clara said under her breath.

He wrote a problem down on a piece of paper and handed it to her along with a pencil. "Solve it."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"That's what I thought. Okay, Clara, so you came here to ask me to remove your... what did you call it? Ah yes, your "carapace," and I suggested I might if you knock my socks off with your homework." He waved the paper at her. "This does not knock my socks off. I'm moderately impressed that you took the time to copy the worked-out solutions you saw on FlickerMath with such care. It suggests that you're willing to devote the time to your work even if you're not yet ready to devote your mental resources to ensuring your own success."

She hated that he so easily called her on her bullshit. "It also suggests that you have no ethical objection against deceiving your keyholder; the man you asked to help you do better in school. There will be a punishment for the attempted deception." He texted an address from the phone number he'd given her before. "9PM tonight, I want you there."

She looked at him warily. "What kind of punishment did you have in mind? Like extra homework time or I have to do your dishes or something?"

"Oh, absolutely not, Clara. Tonight, you will wear pants and those panties you so very much wanted to wear earlier, and I will have the pleasure of seeing those pants and panties pulled down to your knees. I will lean you over the back of a chair, and I will deliver a spanking to you like you've never had in your life."

"No," She responded defiantly. "I don't want to be punished like that."

"What objection do you have to this punishment?"

"It's humiliating!"

"Well Clara, this is the punishment I've selected for you. I think you can handle it just fine, even if you don't want to. I will see you tonight at 9PM at the address I gave you."

She scoffed at him and stalked out of his office. 9pm came and went, as did 9:30, 10, and 10:30. Her phone pinged with a new message at 11pm.

[Message from Unknown 11:30 PM] I am adding on 10 for today and five for each additional day that you do not show up at 9pm. I look forward to seeing you in class on Monday if I do not see you this weekend.

=====

Clara-Jane had been placed on the indentured service registry when she was a child by her parents who needed the up-front payment for the services she would render later, as an adult. Ian interviewed her, as he did with all potential slaves to whom he was attracted, but found she wasn't suitable for his purposes. When six months had passed, he found that she remained unpurchased, presumably because buyers were turned off by her feminist mindset. He decided to put a hold on her. Maybe she could prove useful in a different capacity, he thought. Clara-Jane spent the next six months wondering if he would complete the purchase and, a month ago, he finally had.

"Okay, hold on," Clara-Jane said to Ian, protesting his proposal. "You're telling me there's some alternate universe just like ours with people just like us, and some of them are our doppelgangers?"

Ian nodded his head and she pieced together everything he'd just told her. "And you want me to switch places with the Clara-Jane from the other universe?"

"Actually, she's just Clara over there. You're named for both of your grandmothers, but her grandmother Jane had not yet passed away by the time she was born," Ian explained.

"And how exactly do you plan to swap me and Clara? How are you getting from one place to the other?"

Ian smiled. "This is where that NDA I had you sign comes into play. I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm telling you that I'm prepared to take you there right now, and when we're there, you're going to have no doubt in your mind that you have actually traveled to another universe."

"Okay, so take me there," Clara-Jane challenged him, in a tone that made Ian more certain the switch was good for both women. He understood her disbelief, but the women on his world typically phrased things in a more submissive manner. In the new world, there was no patriarchy. Clara-Jane would be much happier in a world where the sexes were more equal. She could do anything she wanted there. Meanwhile, her counterpart craved domination and would appreciate Ian's firm hand.

They rode an elevator from his home office down to an underground chamber the size of a two-story mansion. It was open in the middle with doors and hallways that were dug into the bedrock on both the first and second levels. A staircase led down to the first floor where Clara-Jane saw what looked like a laboratory on one side, and on the other side a small living room complete with sofa, television, and a coffee table. There was a kitchenette off to the side. But the most surprising fixture in the cavernous chamber was the human-sized cage that separated the living space from the laboratory. It held a bed, and a side-table, along with a table and chair.

"What the hell...." Clara-Jane said.

"Don't worry about that," Ian said, ushering her off to another chamber, much smaller than the first, dominated by a large device. Ian led Clara-Jane to a platform in the center and activated the device. They were bathed in blue lights as their bodies dematerialized and took shape on a smaller pad of similar design in the basement of Ian's home in the alternate North America.

Ian drove her around town, making her an instant believer that this was not her own world. She marveled at the differences. A ruse of this scale would be impossible. Different clothing styles, different cars, the buildings looked old and also new.

"There are so many people!" Clara-Jane commented.

"This world holds 7 billion of them," Ian told her.

She gasped at the number. Their world only had 3 billion, and they were losing population every year. "They don't have a fertility problem?"

"You will have no difficulty finding a surrogate to carry a baby for you."

"And I can be anything in this world, you said? I don't have to accept being shoe-horned into a submissive, feminine role?"

"You can be a doctor, a lawyer, or the CEO of a major corporation," he told her.

When they returned home, Clara-Jane agreed to participate in the switch. "What about the other Clara? Does she want to come here? I assume your interest in her has to do with her fertility."

Ian nodded his head. "Fertility aside, Clara is a deeply submissive woman who has never explored that side of herself outside of internet fantasies. I am certain that she will love it here when she comes to accept it."

"You're kidnapping her?"

"I am forcibly removing her from her world and relocating her here. She will live out the life that you were going to live, and you will get a fresh start in her world," He pulled out a packet of papers that he slid across the desk. "I own you, Clara-Jane. You are mine to do with as I please for the next 10 years. Either you are going in that cage, or she is going in that cage, but only one of you will actually enjoy the experience."

The gravity of his words hit her. She understood him now. "Okay, I'll do my part."

=====

Clara attended Professor Kline's lecture twice at the scheduled times in the week following their meeting in his office. She asked intelligent questions and took notes carefully as he taught his class. On Thursday she showed up at his office hours with her completed homework and he reviewed it for her.

"Much better!" he said with a measure of pride behind his tone. "I don't see evidence of FlickerMath this time. There are more eloquent ways to solve these problems, but the answers are correct, and the work appears to be yours." He wrote a few questions down on a piece of paper, and Clara was able to solve them with no trouble at all. He smiled broadly at her. "I see the lesson of doing your own work has been well learned. Good job, Clara."

She bit her lower lip feeling exceedingly pleased with herself for actually learning the math.

"So, are you ready to submit to your punishment?" he asked her, handing her paper back to her.

She looked surprised. "Actually, I thought you forgot about that. Is that still necessary? I mean... you did just say the lesson of doing my own work was well learned."

His eyes twinkled. "I am not sure why you thought I'd forget about spanking you. I have been eagerly awaiting the day you would be ready to clear your balance," he said. "Besides, your cheating is a university matter that I am not pursuing. The initial spankings are for attempting to deceive me, and the subsequent ones are for defiance. You were told to report to my home at 9pm, one week ago. You have continued to defy me each day since then."

"I'm not going to submit to you, Professor Kline."

"Yes, you will, Clara. And until you do, the tally of spankings will continue to increase by 5 each day."

"I'm going to tell someone about this thing you put on me and they're going to make you take it off!"

"No, you won't, Clara."

She argued with him, insisting that he would be terminated in some embarrassing, public manner for sexual harassment. Professor Kline said it would be obvious that he was trying to protect her from sexual harassment, not subject her to it.

"Clara, if you attempt to tell anyone about the cup you are wearing, you will get a series of shocks that won't be warnings." He narrowed his gaze at her. "Do not test me. Be at my house tonight at 9:00 PM."

=====

It was four more days before Clara showed up on Ian's doorstep, just before 9:00 PM, with tears in her eyes. Her face was red, and by the looks of it, she had probably been crying for some time. He ushered her into the living room as she sobbed.

"I just can't get it off! I can't fucking get it off! It won't budge!" He sat her down on the sofa and went to his bar to pour her a club soda while he fixed a whiskey for himself. Girls who are about to get punished don't get to drink alcohol and dull the pain.

"How the fuck does it come off?!"

He pushed the soda in her hands. "I can remove it anytime I like."

"It's stuck to my skin."

He nodded his head. "It does appear that way, yes. It's actually attached to a magnetic substance that I embedded in your body. Tearing it off would tear your skin off with it. The magnetic material is deep, so removing it would cause a lot of internal damage and permanent disfigurement. Not to mention the cup would shock you with increasing intensity to discourage you from harming yourself."

"I don't understand how this works."

"But you agree that it does work, correct?"

Clara nodded her head.

"How horny are you?"

She broke down into tears again. "I can't stand it! I can't fucking stand it! I have not had an orgasm since we were together at my place."

He made a mental note on the spot that Clara's language would need to be cleaned up.

"When we are done with the 85 spankings you are due, I will remove the cup so you can have an orgasm." On the one hand, he was hesitant to reward her after her punishment with an orgasm, but on the other hand, he wanted to associate her submission with sexual climax. She would get her orgasm this time and he would reevaluate how to handle the association of climax and punishment for the future.

Clara blubbered her gratitude and Ian went to a closet in a nearby room to withdraw some items he would use to punish Clara.

"Please do not do anything to incur additional punishment," he said as he fastened a collar with wrist tethers that hung down her back, holding her arms close to her body along with an additional belt that wrapped around her waist. He secured the closures with small padlocks. A spreader bar was attached at the ankles, holding her legs shoulder-width apart.

He guided her over the back of an armchair and proceeded to lower her rather attractive yoga pants and unattractive panties. "Don't you look fetching with your pants down around your knees," he commented. She blushed.

"You are going to count every one of these," he ordered her. "I want to hear 'One, thank you Sir, two, thank you, Sir, and so forth. I am going to continue with the spanking whether you counted the last one or not. You may never skip numbers, so if you fail to count one, then that spanking won't count, but you may count the next one. If you miss 10 in a row, I will pause your punishment and give you a five-minute break. You may resume counting when I start up again. I'm also giving you a safe-word. You are important to me," he told her as he stroked her back reassuringly. "You have the power to say it and I will stop if you do. But there will be consequences for using it. You will not feel your pussy until your punishment is delivered in full, and starting from this point, I will not give you fewer than 50 spankings in a session. Do you understand me?"