Virtual Slavery Pt. 01

I had time at night to reflect on my condition - and feel sorry for myself. I wished I had someone to talk to - other than trainers. Someone who understood my feelings and could offer helpful advice. Then it hit me.

"Hey, Shiva"

[Yes, 110?]

"Will you be my friend?"

[A slave has only one friend - her owner]

"But I need someone I can talk with"

[You are talking with Shiva]

"OK. Will I ever be happy again?"

[A slave takes her happiness from serving her owner. There can be great joy in that]

I realized that Shiva was right. I could be happy serving my owner.

*****

I did have one small opportunity to express my feelings. Ashley sometimes stayed in my cell and used the computer to file reports and update my lesson plans. One day, she was called away suddenly and left the computer logged into her email account. I realized that I had a chance to send a message to the outside world, so I quickly sat down and composed an email to Paul.

Paul, it's me, Beth. I'm using Ashley's email account. I just want to say that I was so hurt when you fucked that woman on the day I was taken. I thought you would wait at least a few months before cheating on me. While you're out fucking other women, you should know that I'm being fucked, mentally and physically every day, by multiple people. I had hoped that we might someday get back together, but now it's clear we are both sluts. I did love you, but, now, that can never be again. Your former wife, Beth.

I paid for that one moment of catharsis. When they discovered my email, I was punished with a closed window, no food for three days and the temperature in my cell was reduced by ten degrees and my blanket taken away. That convinced me of the futility of ever recovering my former self. Obedience to all orders was the best way to live. My masters and mistresses took care of me and saved me from punishments when I was totally submissive. They rewarded me when I pleased them. Trying to exercise my own free would only cause pain.

[I am a slave now. My former life isn't important anymore.]

Despite what Shiva said, I still often fantasized about my former life and my relationship with Paul. We had truly loved each other and both found great joy in our life together. I remembered our adventure trips biking and rock climbing. I remembered the time he had saved me by distracting the bear, and the time I had bandaged his butt after he had fallen against a cliff and badly serrated his right cheek. I recalled the scars he still bore from that accident.

When I started to feel the warmth of those memories, I would sometimes replay that video they had provided with Paul fucking that Tricia bitch. I needed to harden my feelings against him, to cauterize the wound in my heart. And that's when it happened.

Watching it for the tenth time, and forcing myself to feel the pain of betrayal again, I looked at his butt. I was surprised that the old scars had apparently healed over - but they had persisted for over 5 years.

They couldn't have disappeared - that wasn't Paul's ass!

Then, I remembered how they had created the deep fake videos with Josh's face and my father's face. They had done a much better job with Paul's body and face and hair - and shirt. But they had missed one detail on his butt. He hadn't been unfaithful that day. It was an actor!

My joy was ignited. Perhaps there was still a chance for hope. But the cruelty of what they had done canceled the joy. I had reached the point of accepting, of total submission.

*****

"OK, 110. Your training here is complete. Today you will be turned over to your owner. Don't forget what you learned here. Always, always, obey your master or mistress."

I was very anxious to meet my owner - and very fearful. Would I be able to please them? Would they be cruel? Would they be unhappy with me and punish me every day? What kind of life could I expect? The feeling of helplessness was complete.

[Don't be afraid. It's OK. Everything will be alright if I do as I'm told]

I was cleaned, my hair brushed, a new, lighter collar hugged my neck. All of my stubbly pubic hair was shaved off. A long leather leash was clipped on. A shiny red ribbon was tied in my hair, matching furry handcuffs around my wrists. TSM's 'product' was ready for delivery.

I was led back through the administration building, past the training rooms that had taken so much from me for four weeks. I also appreciated how much had been given to me there. There had been pain - but also great pleasure. I was returned to the building lobby with the huge picture of the perfect slave girl. I kept my eyes downcast as instructed as I was brought before my owner.

"Hello 110."

It was Liz!

I gasped. My dear friend. My guardian. My one-time lover. She had come to rescue me. Without thinking I stepped forward to hug her, but my hands were restrained behind my back. "Oh, Liz. Thank God you're here." I sobbed.

"Sorry dear. It's Mistress now. After all of the money I've spent having you trained, we can't have you calling your owner by her first name. Get down on your knees."

I dropped to my knees without hesitation. I was a well-trained slave.

My new mistress continued. "You and I were lovers once. Then you rejected my love when you fell for Paul. I've felt that hurt every day since. You lived with him and fucked with him and only teased me with 'friendship'."

I struggled to understand what she was saying. She continued without stopping,

"But when you got yourself sent to prison, I realized that I could get you back. Back with me. I spent a lot of money on this. But you're mine now, for the next year. And, I hope, for the rest of our lives. You'll learn how much you really want to fuck me. I'll make you love me again and forget about men."

I've already explained how many times I had been shocked and humiliated and shattered as I descended into slavery. But, this was the worst. Being sentenced to prison and slavery was horrible. Losing all contact with my former life, and my husband, was devastating. Suffering under cruel masters for four weeks was abusive.

But, learning that my longtime friend had intentionally recommended slavery, had ordered especially cruel training to make me hate Paul and planned to use me as her personal fucktoy for a year was inconceivable. I stared at the floor. The room seemed to grow dark. I heard voices echoing in my ears.

Bzzzzz. Snap! I fell to the floor, trying to grasp my searing neck. My hands convulsed behind me. I struggled to rise, but kept falling again on my side. One of the guards grabbed one arm and lifted me to my knees. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I was a broken woman with no reason to continue living.

"110! I said look at me!" Liz barked.

The only remaining part of my mind - obedience - made me raise my head. But I felt no connection with the woman standing over me. She was dressed professionally in a skirted suit. She held the remote control for the collar in her hand and was pointing it at me like a gun. My sobbing eased and I fell into a sort of unfeeling trance. I could only await my next order.

"Stand up and follow me," she ordered. The guard again helped me up and handed my leash to Liz - my mistress. She turned and began walking toward the door. I stumbled twice, but managed to keep up with her. Her car and driver were waiting at the curb. Liz got into the back seat and pulled me along by the leash. I began to sit on the seat, but she stopped me and pointed to the floor. I managed to squeeze myself between the front and back seats and knelt on the carpeted floor. I knew to keep my head lowered as we drove.

******

I was pleasantly surprised when I was led into a nice bedroom. There were windows! with curtains and soft covers on the bed. There was an ensuite bathroom with a shower and a closet containing one summer dress. I knelt as instructed on the large rug in the middle of the room. Liz removed my handcuffs and leash and carefully laid them on a table. She sat on the bed in front of me and told me about my new life.

"This is your room. My bedroom is right through that door. You may only leave this room with my permission." She explained that she had installed sensors around the house that detected the chip in my chest. If I crossed any boundary she had defined, my collar would continually shock me until I was back in the approved area. "Do you understand?" I nodded, submissively.

"Girl, this cost me a lot of money, but I think it's worth it. I thought I could buy you for cheap by making you look lousy for your registration pictures. But that other guy must have liked your cute face and made me bid higher than planned. Then there was another $32,000 in fees to TSM for the custom training package. It's a damn good thing the trust fund from my parents was so generous. Buying a slave is one of the perks of being rich."

I realized everything she had done to help me was actually to help herself. Even the meeting with friends and family on the day I was taken was part of her plan. She had lured them there so their faces could be recorded and used to torture me.

"I have longed for your loving for over 6 years. Now we'll be together almost all of the time. I expect you to eat me and fuck me every day. I've been fantasizing about that for the past two months. I want so much to again experience the love we felt for each other back in school. You want that too don't you Beth?"

My training kicked in and my mouth responded "Oh yes, mistress." But my brain was struggling to understand the conflicts in what she had said. I was a prisoner, a slave, a fucktoy. But she wanted to rekindle love between us? She had called me by my name, not 110. Would that be permanent? Most importantly, had Liz lost her fucking mind?

She stood up and slowly undressed herself. Her beautiful body seemed only slightly plumper than in our college dorm room. She beckoned me forward and murmured "Come darling, let's make love like the old days." Her nipples were hard and her wispy pubic hair was glistening as she climbed onto the bed. I stood and followed onto the bed, lying next to her, face to face.

She started to gently stroke my face in a loving gesture. But, her face wasn't smiling and her eyes didn't shine with love. Part of her remained the cold mistress. I returned the caress to her cheek, but I'm sure my face also didn't display affection. I was feeling only concern - for her and for me.

She reached around me and pulled my naked body against hers, interlocking our legs. We hugged, though without passion. She stroked my breast and lowered her mouth to lick and suck my nipple. My recent education had trained my body to react quickly and lustfully to such stimulation. I gasped as my nipple hardened and I thrust my chest forward, seeking her mouth. Liz felt my reaction and pulled my nipple with her teeth, amplifying my arousal. Suddenly, we were both in the throes of passion.

I took the initiative and scooched down the bed, slipping between her legs. I knew that pleasing my mistress was the most important work for me. I found her pussy wet and steaming. Her outer lips were flushed and dripping. She rolled onto her back and spread her legs very wide, almost commanding me to lick her.

I remembered my lessons and started with very light strokes of her labia, moving from bottom to top. Then my strokes pressed to separate the lips and tickle her little clit. She convulsed and groaned instantly. I increased the speed and firmness of my tongue and was rewarded by thrusts of her hips. I inserted one finger in her opening and slowly drew it in and out, curling the tip to stroke her g-spot. Within a minute she began to scream and thrash her limbs. "Oh yes Beth! Oh yes!" I continued to lick and stroke until she pushed my face away and struggled to regain her breath.

While she recovered from her climax I lay next to her trying to decide what I should do. Obviously, my mistress was in charge and would call the shots. But, did she expect me to take some initiative to please her? Our relationship was totally confusing. How could I please her more?

She soon regained her voice. "Get the dildo in the top drawer." she said, pointing to the night table next to the bed. I found several dildos, three sizes of butt plugs and a tube of lube in the drawer. "Do me Beth. Do me now!" That was clear enough, so I picked a large, knobby pink dildo, applied some lube and began to penetrate her vagina.

"No. The butt plug first." She commanded. I found a medium size plug, lubed it generously, pulled her cheeks apart and slowly pressed it into her anus. Once the head popped in, the plug was firmly in place. Liz moaned quietly.

"Now the biggest dildo. Fuck me with it." She was very tight so I had to push firmly in and out while she flexed and swayed her hips to accept it. She grunted her satisfaction with each push. I quickly found a rhythm that matched her instinctive thrusting. I sat on the bed next to her watching her ride to another, greater orgasm. By the end, I was thrashing the dildo in and out of her body several times a second. She suddenly screamed and her body arched up, seeming to float above the bed. She hung there, not breathing, eyes wide open, for several seconds. Then fell flat and gasped for breath.

Again, I waited for directions. Would she gratefully thank me for giving her a great climax? Would she offer to pleasure me? Would she demand another round? Would she punish me for some slight error to reinforce my submission? I didn't know if I was lying in bed naked with my good friend Liz or with my cruel mistress. But I knew I needed to please both of them.

She seemed to be sleeping so I quietly got out of bed and explored my new world. I took a much needed shower and savored the soft towels and skin cream in the bathroom. I inspected the closet and took the opportunity to put on the dress hanging there. It was the first time I had been clothed in over a month. It actually felt a little weird. I had become totally accustomed to being naked while living at TSM.

Liz eventually woke up and dressed herself without saying a word. I watched her closely, looking for any sign of her plans for me. She never returned the look, just simply got up and walked out the door. I heard the lock click. I knew then that Liz was seriously ill and my status in the world was shaky. Her lust to have me as a lover would probably keep me safe - I hoped. But her resentment at being rejected and her power over me as her slave meant that she could make my life a hell - continuously.

I saw no further sign of Liz that first day. I had not had lunch and dinner time also passed. I searched the room carefully but found only toiletries and towels. The windows were solid glass with no latches or openings. I could look out on a lawn bordered by a tall wooden fence. Would she just leave me here to starve to death by myself?

The next morning I was awakened by clanking and rose to find Liz pushing a cart into the room. She wore a short negligee and no panties. Her face was made up and her hair was brushed to fullness. I smelled food and started to leap from the bed, but Liz raised a hand holding the remote control for my collar. "All in good time 110. First we both need our morning loving don't you think?"

I stopped cold, studying her face and body language. She had obviously prepared for a sexual encounter. She realized I would need food and had prepared a filling breakfast. She held the remote pointed at me to demonstrate her power over me. Her face was remarkably neutral - not angry, not lustful, not smirking at me. I knew my longtime friend was missing.

Without thinking, I just said "Yes, mistress." And got back into bed. She smiled stiffly and climbed in next to me. She laid on her back, fluffed a pillow under her head, spread her legs and raised her eyebrows expectantly. My duty was clear, so I slid down between her legs and used my tongue and fingers to pleasure her. Again she demanded the dildo and I fucked her hard with it. She screamed and thrashed and collapsed, covered in sweat. I realized that, unusually, I was not aroused by the sex.

When she had recovered I asked if I could eat breakfast. "Yes, you may." was all she said. I didn't waste any time consuming all of the available food and drink. Liz lay in the bed watching me without comment. I eventually went to the bathroom to relieve myself and took a quick shower to wash her dried juices from my body.

For the rest of that day she stayed in my room and started conversations about the good old days. We reminisced about hiking trips and school parties, almost like real friends. But, when I suggested we both go out for lunch somewhere, she snapped back into mistress mode. "No. You're my slave 110. You're not allowed to leave this room. I can't risk losing you again. I'll provide you with everything you need, including sexual satisfaction when I wish to. By the way, you're not allowed to masturbate without my permission."

Over the next few days, I came to understand Liz's condition and fear more for my own. As I learned later, split personality disorder appears to divide one person into multiple people - and that is what I was witnessing. Sometimes she was my old friend Liz, loving, playful and considerate. But most of the time she was the mistress, stern, abusive and totally selfish. The mistress still felt the pain of my rejection years before - and needed to control me and punish me. Having purchased my slave contract, she had complete legal power to do both.

My experience at TSM had, indeed, made me submissive. I felt a need to service and support my mistress in all possible ways. I was embarrassed when she repeatedly took photos of me in revealing positions, but I was happy that she was proud of my appearance. I was disappointed that she never tried to repay the sexual stimulation I gave her, but I never allowed myself to feel resentment. I longed to go outside and walk free, but I always lived within her limits because she was the mistress. I rationalized to myself that I was much better off than most slaves - until things got worse.

After a few weeks of limited life in my room, Liz walked in one day with a shopping bag from a fancy lingerie store. She pulled out a lacy teddy and said "Here, try this on." I slipped into the pastel-colored item and watched her eyes glow. I saw myself in the mirror and was very pleased. I had been only naked for weeks and this was a new and sexy image of myself.

"You'll wear that for the party tonight" Liz commented. "The boys are just going to love you."

"What boys? I stuttered.

"The partners at the law firm of course. The current partners that is. They've agreed to make me a partner if I let them all fuck you. And tonight's the night!"

That night was everything I had ever feared and anticipated about becoming a slave. Eight men, all older, heavier and hornier than I have ever seen, were going to use me for their pleasure. Liz changed the security system so I could go out into the rest of the house.

"You be a good girl now 110. You need to please these men in any way they want. Show them how much you want it and tell them what great lovers they are. This is important for both you and me. Understand?"

I could only nod silently. I was terrified. I knew what my purpose there was. My body, all parts of my body, were freely available to anyone for any purpose. I could not defend myself. But then, that's what my mistress wanted - and I wanted to please her.

I also realized that my rapid breathing was not caused only by fear. I was aroused and felt a little wetness drip down my slit. TSM had trained me to be responsive to sex (female Viagra) and submission - I had learned those lessons well. Pleasing the men meant pleasing my mistress. That was my purpose in life. But I could also please myself.