Spencer's Transformation

"Yes, Mistress," I said. Her laugh was like silver bells tinkling. I didn't try to turn my head as she walked past me back towards the house. I heard her heels clicking on the deck, then the door open and close. I sighed and closed my eyes. The dirt I was encased in was warm and soft. Maybe I would manage to get some sleep. I really was an insect now, I told myself, a grub in a buried cocoon turning into something better. I was going to be a long night, but craving for the morning wouldn't bring it any faster.

I felt a shadow fall across me and heard a click. I opened my eyes. Perhaps I hadn't been buried facing the sunrise to watch it, but so that somebody could show a flair for the dramatic by standing between me and the sun.

Mistress looked incredible. She wore a white rubber bustier that bared her shoulders and gave a magnificent display of cleavage, and matching thigh boots and opera gloves. There was a studded black leather alice band pushing her hair back, and a spiked collar around her throat. She really did look like a Goddess and if I could imagine just seeing her like this changing my mind if I'd decided the other way over the course of the night. Not even the digital camera and the shit eating grin spoiled the image.

"Well?" she said. "Tell me what you've decided."

I took a deep breath. My mouth was painfully dry, and it wasn't because I'd been out here since seven yesterday evening with just the contents of Mistress' bladder to drink since then. Mistress raised the camera to her eye and I heard a beep. Great. Now I had to perform as well.

"I have decided that I want to be your nonconsensual slave, Mistress. I have decided that I want to be your property and serve you faithfully and obediently. I have decided that I wish to be your creature and yours alone for the rest of my life with no way out and no right to deny you anything. I have decided that I will welcome anything you wish to do to me as your nonconsensual slave. Any modification or mutilation, any degradation or defilement, anything and everything my Goddess wishes. It is the only decision that I could possibly have made, and I pray that you will honor me by accepting it."

I heard a beep, and a sob. Mistress was beaming a radiant smile, and tears were coursing down her face. She composed herself by taking a step forwards and snapping her fingers, which made a wet squeaking sound with her fingers encased in latex gloves. I leaned my head forwards the little I could manage and kissed the beautiful white latex boots encasing my beautiful Mistress' beautiful feet.

Mistress crouched over me. "Of course I accept, my slave," she said. "Now give me one last soul kiss as husband and wife and lovers before I begin to destroy you, Spencer."

I kissed her hungrily. She responded. When she released me and straightened up her tears had dried.

"Your mouth tastes just as rancid as a slave's should," she said. "I hope you understand what you've committed yourself to, but I don't care because that was the answer I was hoping and praying for myself. Just bear in mind that was the last time I ever going to call you Spencer. There is no Spencer anymore, and there never will be again, slave," she said. "Remember that."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"I've been thinking about a slave name for you," Mistress said. She picked up the shovel and began to scrape the earth away from my neck. "I think 'Pansy' is perfect. The same as 'Sissy' or 'Nancy', but sort of English. And it's a flower name as well. With some suitably degrading surname. I'll have Gilda work up a change of name form and we can put it on your drivers' license and passport once it's legally your name after the tour. She's provided some interim paperwork, just as a friendly reminder of your new role in life, for you to sign before we head off. An uncontested divorce that gives me everything, for a start. I'll rip that up when the real paperwork is ready and signed, but it's quite a threat in the meantime, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said. She loosened, rather than digging out, most of the soil, and dragged me out once my armpits were bare. The pins and needles as I straightened my knees was agonizing. She unwrapped my wrists and ankles, then snapped her fingers again. I kissed her boots again and enjoyed it a lot more this time.

"For now, put the spade away and bin this tape. When you're done, come in and get a shower, then you can sign the divorce papers that are on the coffee table. I want to dump your little speech onto the laptop and get it backed up before we do anything else. That will be perfect for the blog when we start setting that up. I think we can take some photos of you kissing my feet in this get up for the blog as well."

"We have to get this tour out of the way first before we can do anything about that, though. So get moving, slave!"

I picked up the shovel and started towards the tool shed, caked in dirt, dehumanized and enslaved, and proud as Hell. I was finally in where there was no way back out, and I was very happy about it.