Snapshots from The Life of a Submissive

She quickened the pace as he spurted all over his chest.

Afterword, she wiped him off with a warm wet cloth. They lay on the floor, her hands cradling his buttocks, his nostrils pressed against the intoxicating scent of the perfume adorning her collarbone. Entwined together, she fully clothed, he fully naked, their shared silence celebrated her conquest of him.

He knew Chloe would never allow him to wear clothing again. He knew that in the course of this evening's drunken reverie he had impulsively and irreversibly relinquished his birthright of freedom in exchange for a state sanctioned status of slavery.

Compelled to wear her collar, other people would now see him for what he really was, intrinsically subhuman, disgraced, sexually servile. After a few weeks of further "spiritual work" with Chloe, his original birth certificate would be officially superseded by a United States Department of Agriculture Certificate of Registration reclassifying him as mere livestock.

In the weeks to come she would place a new and terrible yoke on his shoulders while at the same time another more familiar burden was being lifted forever.

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--Otis