What I Want

The first time I met her, she was leaving the same hallway door I was about to enter, we were both on our own way to or from class in college, but that single moment that I met her changed everything.

I wanted her.

From that single encounter I recalled with exact clarity her height, the blonde tufts of curls in her hair, her deep blue eyes, long eyelashes, and pink lips.

She was wearing a blouse with black dress pants, perhaps for a presentation or some sort of formal affair.  But despite her best intentions, even with a bra, I could see the very outline of her peaked nipples as they formed like mountains covered in the white snow of her blouse.

She did not notice my wayward eyes and briefly I glanced in hers, we changed course and went our separate ways.  I had plenty of opportunity to look back, but I was so stunned by her appearance that the image incensed itself into my mind.

Every ounce of her was evenly distributed, my mind would recall…  but I knew there was potential for more to be there.  She could do so much more with that curvaceous body of hers.

There was potential for more bounce, more heel, more sashay, more sway, more gyration…  more than she could possibly fathom.

I wanted… all of her.

After that day my days were spent pondering ways of making this woman belong to me in every possible way.  She would not just become mine in heart, soul, body, and mind… oh no… she would transform.  She would exceed everything she ever thought she could be.  And I was just the sort of man who would help her to achieve it… whether she would ever be aware of this or not.

My methodology is subtle, and I am not a man who takes that which he desires by force.  They must be absolutely willing to become what I want.  And although at the time I had no intentions of doing otherwise, it was very clear to me:

She would be my First.

The term ‘victim’ is so boorish it sickens me.  I am a man of principle, and dare not cause harm to come to a beautiful maiden.  This principle in the outset, may appear daunting to many a man, but I am very unorthodox in my methods of strategy.  If she ever saw my face at all, it would be when she finally realized it was I who she desired with her entire self.  I am NO stalker!

Instead, I merely continued doing what I had always done, gone to lunch with a book in one hand and sandwich in the other.

The space of time between the moment I first encountered this woman of beauty and the moment I met her once again on my way from class, my mind’s gears had already begun to churn.

She was wearing a t-shirt this time, with jeans and some other accessories, but despite everything her nipples showed through, perhaps to her own torment and chagrin to other men.

I would not be walking in the direction she had walked from today, however, instead I merely sat at a nearby café table and watched her walk past, on her way to another class no doubt.  She did not see me, as I was a mere face in the crowd.  But I knew my plan was formulating and it would be a long complex plan, but it would succeed.

The third day arrived and she did not walk past the café as usual.  I was not at all surprised, however.  The class schedules permitted classes only on certain days of the week.  I merely went on with my business of reading and pondering… my plan would finish formulating soon enough.

The fourth day soon came and I was once again sitting at the café table, and just as I had anticipated she walked past on her way to class.  The previous day was spent memorizing the geography of the class locations based on schedule, so I knew exactly what class she was going to.

She was headed to her Computer Sciences class, room 105.  I did not need even so much as follow her to know this.  The time in which the class is scheduled, the pace at which she walked to the class, and the appearance of a laptop in her arm were evidence enough.

That afternoon was spent through deductive reasoning to determine what her name was.

Obviously she never wore a name tag, but it was a simple enough task to determine the current members of the class, as they are all on record through the school’s local network.  Some minor research dug up that there were 10 males, 4 females in the class… making this much easier than I had anticipated.

My photographic memory recalled the moment I had observed her walking to her class that morning.  In her arms she carried a Dell computer with the initials J.R. painted on it, as a means of identifying that the laptop was hers.

Sure enough a Jennifer Richards was indeed enrolled in Computer Science 105 at the exact space of time that she normally went.  As a precautionary tactic, I used some back-hacking techniques through the network and checked the IP Login points found specifically in that Computer Lab classroom.

I was able to determine not only the make of her laptop computer, but also the times she logged in, as she habitually logged into the same class port IP address for every session of class.  Her username on chat was Blue_Schmetterling, German for Butterfly no doubt.  Her full name was Jennifer Nichole Richards, she even had a complete biography and itinerary on her computer. 

I made a complete backup of her files on a separate server I kept for my ‘pet’ projects.  Her laptop was completely unaware of my remote link as she most likely chatted with friends.  The link itself is disguised within a simple software update that periodically floods computers all across the network… the school calls this ‘mandatory antivirus updating’.  I merely call it a back door.  I now had access to every single backlog of chat she typed, which sent itself via attached cookie to my server in little single byte packets.

It seemed to me she was very well engaged in her work and relied upon her laptop quite frequently for her projects.  She had her own ideals when it came to men, and she was quite fickle when it came to choosing the right man.  She insisted he be a family man and that he be the one to stay at home while she be the breadwinner.  I merely chuckled at this, as she was completely unaware that her life was about to change completely.

The first phase of my plan was complete.  All information on Jennifer Richards was obtained.  Now came the fun part: setting up the scenario that would transform her.

This plan would require precise planning, timing, and other players in the game called ‘Jennifer’s way of life’.  And everything would fall into my hands accordingly.

To obtain what I wanted, I needed to study her habits, her typing, her blogging, her journals, her projects… everything.  This was done through my ‘back door’ easily enough.  And it took about a week for me to precisely find the foothold I would need to get her going in the direction I wanted.

In a single journal entry she had once remarked that she regretted not having a chance to take ballet dancing lessons.  It was a childhood dream of hers, of course, but in many ways she had never been given the opportunity.

It took about a week’s worth of research and observation, but I learned of a dance studio a few miles south of the campus.  It would certainly make for a good start.  A few minor bits of information on the studio and I discovered they were taking new applicants in a month, additionally I found a local health spa and gym was nearby.  The board was ready… but now the chess pieces had to be moved.

It took some searching on the internet and a little luck, but I found my Pawn.  A young woman in her mid twenties who lived in the area and confessed two major interests… clothing fetishes and dancing.  She would most likely be the perfect tool to obtain what I wanted.

The trainer at the dance studio was looking for a way to advertise business, and under a false username, I created an ‘advertising company’ e-mail promotions service with a special ‘free trial offer’ that would last as long as I got the attention of my Pawn and Jennifer.  The offer itself was of no cost out-of-pocket to the trainer, as it was meant to generate his business.  As a token of his appreciation, he said that the first ten visitors to his studio would receive free dance lessons… better than my expectations.

Part of the Free Trial offer of my advertising company included a built-in comment blog that allowed visitors to the Dance Studio’s site to comment on the site and talk about the studio itself.

Knowing full well that Jennifer and my Pawn would be eager to comment on the features of the site, as well as possibly get involved in Ballet Dancing, I simply set the bait and waited.

To my expectations the young woman talked eagerly about her experiences in dancing and the essence of ballet.  Jennifer was intrigued to say the least, and even went so far as to say she wanted to meet up with the girl at the dance studio, just to try it out.

I had noted earlier that much of the Dance Studio’s equipment was purchased primarily by the students, and as the case was, through a special ballet shoe design company that worked out of a different state.

The whole process of ordering the ballet shoes needed for her free lessons was done strictly by mail order through an online site, just how I liked it.  In an eager jump at the opportunity, she ordered away for the shoes, as did my Pawn.

With some quick thinking on my part… .I hacked into her online order so that  I could modify the shoes somewhat on special order so that they are designed to shape the heel more… then I modified the receipt so that dear Jennifer wouldn’t know that she’d ordered something completely different.  Additionally I paid the fee for the modification out of my own pocket and disguised it as an electronic transfer from her bank account.

It took a few days of waiting and my own observations of her daily routine, but the ballet shoes finally came according to an itinerary file I managed to get from an e-mail she received to confirm her order.

Sure enough, she posted in her ballet-blog space about the strange tightness her heels felt when she put the shoes on.  It wasn’t that she was complaining, as she had no prior experience with ballet shoes, but just as she did so, my Pawn was waiting for her comments, and quick to mention that many trainers use special heel enhancements to improve their performance.  To this Jennifer complied and was willing to tough it out.

A few days passed and she began to take her free classes.  She struggled somewhat in the heel adjusting ballet shoes I had bought her, but her lessons were coming along fine, according to my distant observations.

I’ve begun to notice a slight change in the way she walks to and from classes lately, and to this I smile, as I have begun to notice that she’s changed her heel size recently.  This will, of course, continue to develop as she works more in her ballet lessons.   In a blog she posted that due to something regarding her ballet shoes, her heels have changed somewhat and she’s had to get raised pumps recently in order to walk.  It’s amazing to say that she has yet to suspect a thing.

A few days later and my Pawn has begun to notice the change in Jennifer’s heel size.  This being all within my calculation, my Pawn seems very turned on by this turn of events.  She has an extreme fetish towards ballet boot heels and other fetish clothing, not unlike myself, although she is very reserved and secretive about her passions (as I predicted), according to her private diary, she fully intends to introduce Jennifer to the world of fetish fashion.  While this is as I anticipated, I cannot help but show concern that she may develop an unwanted relationship with my Jennifer… unless of course I make some adjustments to the plan.

A month or so of the ballet and dance training and Jennifer has grown in leaps and bounds in her changes to her heels.  I cannot help but feel a sense of accomplishment that she has managed to adapt very well to her currently 6 inch stiletto heel style of walking, although this will be changing as her feet continue to grow through the ballet heels.  Her mincing has improved her gait quite considerably, and other physical observations are soon to follow.  When this is all over I want her to keep her feet en point and enjoy every moment of it.  Unexpectedly, my Pawn assisted me without my intervention and bought her a new pair of specially designed heel boots that make her walk very impressively.

The next phase in my plan has begun to be realized.  Through a joint effort of the advertising agency I set up, as well as the Dance Studio itself, I’ve managed to give my girls a free (although paid by me personally) year’s session at the local gym.  Using the money I paid, I hired a special trainer posed to pass himself off and get hired as an employee at the gym.  His job is to train both my Pawn and Jennifer into the various calisthenics and other exercises needed to develop and tone their bodies according to my specifications.  Naturally my Rook has no idea I paid him, he merely thought that his training the girls at the facility is all part of what he was hired for.  In fact he thinks they’ve been contracted to do modeling work!  At this I chuckle, because I know the two are definitely willing and able to work hard towards my goal.

Jennifer is slowly becoming the Queen she was meant to be.  My Rook has been steadily building her abdominal region and pectoral structure.  Not so much that she’ll be muscular, but more so that her curvaceous parts will be more evident.  He is fully aware she is wearing heels that get progressively higher with every training session.  I’ve extensively prepared the regimen, and the girls seem to take to it well enough.  They think they are simply developing their appearance for a future as professional dancing performers… although it appears my Pawn is beginning to have other ideas with regards to Jennifer.  She has, on numerous occasions, tried to hit on Jennifer, although with little success it seems.  It is apparent I somewhat miscalculated Jennifer’s capability at observation, as she seems to seldom if ever take notice of my Pawn’s advances.

It has already been two months since I first encountered Jennifer, and already she has developed quite considerably towards the goal I’ve set for her.  She continues to take classes, lessons, and exercises, fully unaware of the changes taking place.

As of late, Jennifer has been enthralled with a certain fashion magazine my Pawn introduced to her.  Although I had no hand in the magazine’s creation, I did manage to get my Pawn to somehow ‘procure’ a copy of the magazine’s subscription.  My Pawn is a closet exhibitionist by nature, and adores her webcam considerably… and so I have hacked the internal controls of her camera for the moment that she manages to bring Jennifer into her domicile.  I find myself hard pressed not to be swayed into planting my own hidden cameras throughout Jennifer’s apartment… however I feel if such a thing should occur, I would be quite the brute.

I find it simply amazing how my Pawn set about to introduce Jennifer to the world of fetish fashion.  She is most certainly better than I had originally hoped she would be.  But so far Jennifer herself is very resistant to her urgings to ‘try something different’.  I fear I must take action sooner than expected, of course, I am far from finished with Jennifer’s ‘modifications’.  She has yet  to notice the change in her vitamin supplements and the results of them, her new prescription being my doing of course.

Jennifer has recently posted a personal journal in her blog about how things seem to be racing about her at a great speed, and how much her life seems to have changed since her dreams were achieved.  Dreams?  At this I chuckle… certainly it is true I’ve given her the opportunity to do what she’s always dreamt of doing.  But it is within my nature to only give when the results work to my benefit.  She’s begun to realize her breast size is changing somewhat, due to the vitamin supplements no doubt, and this has her somewhat concerned.  Of course, I’ve planted a doctor in the nearby vicinity that specializes in ‘growth spurts’ among other things.  My Bishop will see to it she is well taken care of.

I’m almost certainly glad that Jennifer is not a girl of observational deduction, as she has literally leapt through my many flaming hoops without so much as a bat of her eyes in suspicion.  She feels all this is her doing, or perhaps that she’s been lucky thus far.  My Rook and Pawn have worked very hard these past three months to develop Jennifer into the Queen she was meant to be.  Although it will be some time before her King can claim her, the Knight will be coming soon to introduce her to her new lifestyle, with my Bishop monitoring her progress.  He is what you’d call a conditioning trainer… that is, he prepares his ‘victims’ for harsh mental conditioning that will alter the way they think and behave… if the price is right.  Of course, to Jennifer, he is her Psychology tutor for college.  He’s a professional I have hired specifically for this task, although I had to go through indirect channels to obtain his expertise, the payoff is worth it.  He’s offered to rend his services at great discount if he can lay claim to my Pawn.  Of course I accepted his offer, but with caution… for a Knight must never exceed a King in strategy… and he will be dealt with if he crosses me.

Jennifer is completely unaware of the fact that I go to the same Psychology class she has enrolled in, also her ‘Tutor’ is unaware of my observing them, or that I’ve partaken in all that has transpired these past four months.  Of course, she’ll be introduced to me soon enough… as the Knight sets about to get her prepared for the ‘triggers’.  Key words and phrases that will open her up to free suggestion.  It begins with a series of distracting imagery during her studying with him that he causes her to unintentionally focus on, but the indirect focus causes her to let down her mental defenses, even during casual conversation.  He is a master hypnotist, I grant him that… but his methods do not suit me, even if they are necessary for what I want.

It has already been three weeks since the Knight has set about his task, and already the change is noticeable.  Jennifer seems more complacent, not necessarily lackadaisical, but not fully alert either.  Her faculties are such that she feels as though she’s lost a bit of sleep, but other than that, her training continues.  I’ve been observing the Knight’s techniques, himself unaware my watching him, but I’ve noted he is quite impressed with my handiwork.  He considers me a genius in the very sense of the word, although I find it flattering, I will not accept the compliment until my Queen is ready to ascend her throne by my side.

I’ve allowed the Knight to pursue my Pawn, and she certainly has taken to him well, as she has undergone the same training Jennifer underwent, unbeknownst to her.  The Knight is quick to draw conclusion that my Pawn is ripe for the taking… which he obliges himself in doing.  Jennifer is almost ready for the last two phases of my plan.

Halfway through the semester in Psychology class, Jennifer’s tutor has decided she no longer needs his assistance, and that she is fully capable of finishing the course herself.  This is an alibi of course, as the contract between myself and the Knight is completed.  His is quite satisfied with the results, my Pawn being sufficient payment… he hopes perhaps we can do business again at a later date.  I keep my anonymity and the final phases of Jennifer’s transformation will soon be completed… unbeknownst to her, however… I will be the one to personally see to her final transformation.

As per my discussion through undisclosed online chat with the Knight, I have learned all the triggers that open up Jennifer to suggestion, and these especially are a great many worth using.  My day begins normally enough, accordingly her schedule states she must go to her Computer Science class in room 105 as usual, however… I will be awaiting her at the doorway where we first met.

I casually bump into her.

“Excuse me.” I say, dropping a book by accident.  The clatter makes a loud plop noise on the floor, which startles her.

Her eyes blink and flutter for a moment, then she responds, “Oh that’s okay, I’ll pick it up for you.”  Other students continue to shuffle past us towards their respective classes.

She bends at her hips and gracefully picks up the book, her heels deeply pointed and angular.  Her breasts lush and full of motion as she stoops.

“I’d like to make it up to you.” I say with serious tone in my voice, however my tone shifts afterwards, “Would you care to meet me at the café around 5:00 p.m. tonight?”

Her eyes flutter a bit before she responds to my voice, “Why yes, I wouldn’t mind at all… 5:00 p.m. it is then.”

I smile genuinely at the elegant woman before me, and she reciprocates the smile, lost in her own mind’s prison.  She blinks a few more times, but I leave her presence before she can finish processing what has just transpired.  We both go our separate ways.

It seems the triggers are in full effect.

My eagerness to get started almost got the better of me, but I managed to be patient enough for my project to arrive at the set time that afternoon.  I sat at the café table and simply waited.  When she finally came, she had a curious and somewhat quizzical look on her face, as though she were trying to remember something she forgot.  She looked around the café a few times, her eyes shifting somewhat nervously and her facial expressions telling me she was very confused, as her body was telling her to do something her mind had no understanding of.

Then finally, in a fit of confusion, she sat down at the same table I was sitting at.  Unsure of herself, and rather nervous about the whole situation.

“… You’re not going to believe this, but for some reason I felt compelled to sit at this table with you today at exactly 5:00 p.m. … .and I have no idea why.”

This brought about a surprising side effect, apparently.  She had no memory of meeting me in the hall, from the moment I had bumped into her and dropped my book.  The triggers embedded in her mind were that strong.  To this I coolly smiled.

“It’s understandable, considering we just met and all.  Would you care for something?  Coffee perhaps?” My voice was deep and deliberately powerful.

Her eyes opened and shut rapidly for the period of two seconds, then she replied.

“Yes, I… believe I would like a cup of coffee… ” she said, rather unsure of herself at the moment.  “In fact I’ve been craving a cup all afternoon.” She said, licking her lips in the most provocative manner.  Truly I could’ve lost my composure there and then!

I ordered a mocha for her, and she drank it with the most suggestive mannerisms, as if merely suggesting she drink coffee was like triggering an orgasm.  Her breathing was labored, her breasts heaving, her back arched, her legs crossed tightly on her stilted heels.  She finished her cup with a sigh of bliss, and I found myself enraptured by the very woman I set out to capture.

My voice then forced itself to be direct and commanding, not forceful, but my words had enough solidarity to punch a whole in her mind if they so wished.

“From this moment on, you will refer to me only as Master, whether in your waking or sleeping moments.  Anything I tell you, you will do, and you will always do what I say, even if you feel like doing otherwise, and you will do it with absolute pleasure.  Aside from your normal life, you will obey me completely and totally… is that understood?”

Her mind whirled for a moment, as I knew it would take some time for that to sink in.

Then at last, she responded, “Yes… Master.” She said with a gentle smile.

“We have much to do, Jennifer,” I began, “You’ve been preparing yourself up through this moment for a while now, but you are still not yet ready for my expectations of you.  It will be hard work, but I think you will be willing and able to do this.”

“Why certainly, Master.” She smiled once again.  Her voice bubbled with anticipation for what I had in mind for her.

I went at length into detail about her final modifications.  She was to increase her vitamin supplement intake to nearly double what she took before, this would increase her breast size to a double E cup.  She responded to this eagerly enough, and wondered why I would request she change her appearance, I merely responded it was what I wanted of her.  During the time her breasts would continue to develop, I gave her strict orders to keep up her gym regimen, and heel strengthening at the dance classes she took.  Additionally, she would ask her friend from ballet class (my Pawn) to train her in ballet heel boots and the use of all manner of latex and bondage sex techniques.  Her friend would act as her teacher and confidante, as well as have domination over her for educative purposes.  Jennifer would be trained on how to be completely submissive in nature, as well as train her pussy and anus to tighten themselves around the largest of dildos.  Whenever I would converse with her, the mere sound and memory of my face and voice would act as the trigger, however slight.  Even though she would refer to me as Master, it would not be in earshot of others unless I desired it of her.

The final phase of my plan would soon be put into action.  She was nearly mine.

Weeks went by and I continued to observe Jennifer walking to and from class as she always did.  Her clothing and mannerisms were more provocative than ever, her steps mincing, her face and hands more delicate looking.  Her eyes had a hungry expression in them, and everything she did, she did with the most blissful smile on her face.

At one point several men tried to hit on her, as her new appearance was literally stunning, even if she was merely wearing a casual outfit.  She calmly dismissed them with little interest as she set about to challenge her body in all sorts of taxing tasks.

Her blog discussed at length her decision to enlarge her breasts through natural supplement, and how some women were embarrassed by their breast size.  She, however, was very proud of her progress thus far, and even more so she was beginning to like wearing latex and rubber as accessories to her outfits.  She also discovered she had a natural passion for walking in ballet toed heels at any given time, she found it gave her poise and graceful movement when she walked.  My heart nearly skipped a beat when she mentioned she’d been inspired by a single cup of coffee, and that by improving herself, she was making herself ready for the man of her dreams.

She was entangling herself forever to my will, and she was completely unaware of it.  A month and three weeks passed, and her breasts had finally become the ideal size she (that is I) wanted.  She hinted in her blog journal that she was taking ‘special’ lessons from her friend, and that things were progressing nicely.

Classes ended for the summer, and by that time she had been fully trained in her expertise of submission in latex.  Her figure was absolutely dynamic in the way she moved, as her hips were perfectly curved and her breasts large and full of volume, no matter what outfit she wore.  She’d gone to wearing shirts with tight stretch to them or something with large bust size.  Her nipples were now the size of cannons and jutted out from everything she wore.

Many of her friends had actually given her strange looks the past few weeks, save for my Pawn.  They had no idea why she liked to wear ballet heels everywhere she went, with her constant en point walking.  She’d also begun to wear single piece or low cut dresses and skirts, as though everything around her was a formal affair.  I couldn’t help but admire her natural tenacity to show off her form.

The day finally came for the both of us to meet once again.  I’d told her several weeks earlier through a specifically written note, that I would be waiting for her in the café.  Before me sat two cups of the finest coffee, still hotly brewed and waiting.

She came at last, her eyes glancing more furtively this time, as though she felt fate was calling to her.  I stood from my chair to acknowledge my lady’s presence, and presented her with a bouquet of 12 roses.  I’d dressed in my finest grey Armani, and the results spoke for themselves.

“I feel as though I should remember who you are but… ” she stared in stunned silence.

“You should know me.  And you should know who I am to you.” I replied with utter confidence and command.

Her eyes fluttered and she once again transformed, “Master… it is you!  I am so glad to see you again!”  She accepted the roses eagerly, and spun in her single piece latex hobble dress, showing herself off to me.  “Do you like what I’ve done for you?”

I took my hand and gently held her in my arms.  “Naturally, but that is because you are mine.”

We drank coffee and talked at length of her purpose and why I had chosen her.  She was most definitely interested in all aspects of me, naturally, but that is how I wanted her to be.  But now the time for mere conversation had ended, for now her new purpose would truly begin.

I took her to my van and led her into the passenger-side door.  The van itself had tinted windows so that no one would be able to see inside.  She immediately recognized the black rubber single-piece catsuit waiting for her in the van, complete with molded rubber ballet heels and rubber hood, as well as built-in butt plug and dildo.  The hood was designed as tinted black rubber, so that she could see out but to everyone else she was solid black rubber.  After oiling herself up with a special concoction I had made specifically for her, she eagerly wore the outfit as it stretched to conform to her body’s shape.  Her hips began to sway as her pussy lips and anus accepted their gifts inside her.  They were much larger than she was used to, but it teased and excited her all the same.

I waited quietly in the driver’s seat as she moaned a writhed in ecstasy within the suit.  Soon she regained her composure enough to sit in the passenger seat, her legs crossing and uncrossing, showing signs of her teasing.  After she buckled her seatbelt, I hit a switch from a remote I had in my breast pocket, and her body nearly doubled over as the motors inside both dildos began to work her body.  She would remain this way for the remainder of the drive to my own home.

I drove for some length, keeping an eye on her, smiling all the while.  This would most definitely be a night to remember.  Finally, we reached my home, and I pulled into the garage and shut the gate via remote.

I gently took her hand and pulled her out of the car and onto her new heels, they were ballet and she was on her toes naturally, but the fact she was being teased by a pair of motors didn’t help her concentrate on her balance any, so I held her hand and lead her into my home.

We first entered the living room where a table with a new bottle of champagne waited for her.  Walking through to the dining room, she found an crock-heated four course dinner waiting, that would also have to wait of course… finally past the kitchen and into the bedroom, she discovered much to her amazement that my bed was lined with smooth latex rubber.  To me it felt exquisite to the touch, but nowhere near as exquisite as the touch of a beautiful woman such as herself.

She sat on the bed with a  gentle squeak as rubber bed touched rubber ass.  She was already eager to begin, but before that I had a question to ask her.  She took off her hood, revealing her sweating face and long blonde hair.

“What if I were to tell you that up till now I’ve been manipulating every aspect of your life so that you’d come live with me as my sex slave.  Would you be angry with me… ?  Would you think that I stole your life from you?” I asked her gently, while playing with her flowing golden hair that contrasted sharply with the black rubber.

She gave it some thought, but then replied with a smile.  “Up until now I had been working hard to achieve this kind of body, not knowing if it was a dream or if it was real.  It was hard work, and I never dreamed it even possible.  But if my Master says he is the one who helped me… I don’t mind at all.”

I loosened my tie and gathered her up into my arms on the bed.  Passionately I kissed her on the lips, my hands grasping her breasts firmly as she felt a sensitive tingle from inside the suit.  She reciprocated by wrapping her rubber-encased arms around my neck, followed by her rubber legs tightly curling around my waist.  Grasping her frictionless rubber ass, I lifted her and gently placed her on the center of the bed.  I stripped of my Armani suit to reveal my own rubber outfit, but this was specifically designed so that my cock had a special rubber sheath for her to play with.

After some teasing on my sheathed cock from her lips, it was my turn, and I revealed to her that both dildos embedded in her suit were hollow in nature, and with a quick twist and pop, I was already inside her, and to her amazement it felt as though she had two penises penetrating her vagina at the same time, while the dildo in her ass teased her all the more.  It was obvious she was going to cum into the suit, but I let her do so… for she was my sex toy, and I would play with her how I wanted.

During her penetration, I casually slipped a set of rubber bindings around the bottoms of her ankles and lifted her legs high in the air, while her arms were stretched across the bed.  When all was said and done, she was forced with her butt projected high in the air and her legs spread eagle, for all the world to see, her heels jutting in the air.  She tried to regain her balance, but her back was pushing against a cushion of rubber that stretched and conformed to every movement she made, meaning her ass was hanging whether she wanted it to or not.

I gently extricated both dildos from her suit, as they were detachable, and began playing with her, licking her, and most of all, teasing her as she moaned in the suit.  I revealed to her another bottle of champagne sitting in a fridge beside the bed.  Popping the cork, I let the chilled juices flow and foam into her exposed pussy.  Raising her ass slightly, I began to pour champagne deep inside her pink wet lips.  The sensation was cold and tingly to her exposed clit, but it was sweet to the smell, and quite possibly the most satisfactory experience she ever had with champagne.

I then began to tease-feed her little shavings of special Swiss dark chocolate I had ordered.  Every time I did this, I gave her the command to orgasm.  This she did with every bite of the chocolate.  It took a few minutes, but due to her pre-conditioning, I managed to train her to automatically orgasm whenever she received the taste of chocolate in her mouth.  This power I had over her amazed and excited her… and because of this I could see love and passion burning in her eyes for me… whether I had manipulated her or not, this was truly something she’d never expected to enjoy.

She would soon be ready for her first fetish convention… where I would proudly display her as the ultimate willing fuck-toy.

Oh certainly other men had their own slaves to share, but many of the slaves were extremely reluctant to be there, much to my consternation.  I do not believe a slave should be unwilling… not when it comes to pleasure… and especially not when it comes to serving a master willingly.  If my slave is to be a slave… she must accept this and want to be a slave in the first place.  I established this belief long ago, and because of it, many men in my fetish organization revere and respect my methods.  I consider myself a master of my craft, women are clay in my hands and I am the sculptor, and the result is exquisite artwork that stands the test of time, crafted in love and kindness, with hard work.

Jennifer soon became used to the idea, whether hypnotized or not, that she had become my property, and this she felt was part of her destiny, and she accepted it with full grace and even enjoyed her position.  She was the one I wanted, simple as that.

From that day forward she was my sexual exhibition slave.  She did anything and everything to please me, from cooking, to cleaning, to going to latex clothing shows and showing herself off to others, either in suits or dresses or all manner of outfits.  And of course there was sex… lots of sex.

But it was only the beginning… because she was what I wanted.

And I always get what I want.

 

31.08.07