My Virtuous Submission
Introduction:
Ever wonder how dehumanization can become eroticism? Here is how my story began…
It was a rainy day. The sun slid behind the clouds and I gripped the phone with my right hand staring down to the floor as if I was already before my Master.
“You realize once you consent, it is no longer consensual?” He said with a tone that made me realize how definite it was and how little control I would have; already feeling as if He had control over me.
I paused. Too long. I heard a resounding CLICK.
Panic rose from my stomach and into my throat and I choked a little. I cradled the phone and got up to pace the floor. Should I call Him back? Should I wait? What if He read my hestitation as more than fear of the unknown? I picked up the phone. Did I have the authority to call Him?
I dialed His number. I sat there in silence as the number of rings exceeded the automatic timing in my brain. He did not answer. I had carefully thought about this day and what it might bring and it never occured to me it would bring forth an uncertain ending. This was ending with a question mark instead of a period.
I had to get outside. But I had relied on his permission for months now to train me to obey. I had broken more than one rule today. I hestitated. That was one. I called Him without permission. That was two. Was he done with me or would he punish me severely once I had signed the contract?
Sleep didn’t come easily. I tossed and turned. I stared at the phone, willing it to ring. I wanted to obey. I wanted to submit myself to Him. Why was it so important that I give myself to a Master I had yet to meet? Sure, we had talked on the phone, skyped a few times, I had been through several training sessions via webcam, but never had I met Him. He said I must prove myself worthy and I failed when he asked me the question.
I grew up in a very strict home environment. My fanatically religious family had driven me to question things and I no longer believed in God as in any religious figure but rather realized humans created the very essence of God by name and theory. Humans also took this power away from the word “God” and gave it back to mankind to do with it what they could or would.
I don’t remember when it started but I began to get pleasure from being humiliated by men and I wanted them to punish me but to love me, unlike my father, who beat me, but without love and always attached to why God wanted him to. I abhored this. I came to hate my father. His very smile would make me sick to my stomach but I yearned for his love nonetheless. Pretty fucked up.
I went from man to man searching for the right balance of being fucked, being owned, and being loved. That is a deadly combination if ever a man gets it right because then someone like me becomes puddy in their hands.
I chose to have no limits. No safe words. That would give me power. I wanted no power. I wanted to fully submit to my Master and have Him have complete control over me. Feeling helpless and vulnerable was what I craved. If I had to drink His piss right from the spout, I would. If I had to bend over and feel the hot lashes of a leather strap or a belt or wooden paddle, I would take it. I wanted to cry. I needed that connection. I needed to know that the same hands that could hurt me, discipline me, teach me, could also love me and comfort me. I wanted to know that my Master’s big fucking cock could be rammed inside my asshole at any time and I would have no control over it.
I had searched for a long time and it happened. I found the perfect Master. Wait, that is wrong. The perfect Master found me. And I had fucked it up. Royally.
The next day I woke up after finally sleeping, although restlessly. No missed calls. I picked up the phone to see if there was a dial tone. There was. I couldn’t eat. Time to take some pills. Benzos, narcotics, weed, sometimes coke, it all helped to deal with the emotional turmoil I was in. I just needed Him to make it all better. I would rather feel His wrath than the emotional pain I was in.
Time became a blur. I created other user names to go online to see if He was on the regular site where I had found this perfect Master. Green light was on… He had moved on. My heart sank. Time to throw some pills down the hatch.
The phone was ringing. I thought. I couldn’t be sure since everything was still blurred from my despair. I picked up the phone and there was no dial tone!
“Hello?” “Hello??”…. my knuckles white from gripping the phone.
“You do realize once you consent, it is no longer consensual?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I turned my eyes towards the floor, even though He couldn’t see me, I needed to give him the respect he demanded.
“Turn yourself in by midnight tonight. Make any and all arrangements and say your good-byes.”
Click.
I knew what I had to do.
I had no ties to family. I had written them out of my life a long time ago. I had packed what little I needed days ago. I cried. Happy tears, uncertain tears, horny tears.
I spread my legs and my fingers parted my pussy lips. I was not moist. I was fucking wet. I put one finger in, just feeling the hot liquid that had formed knowing my Master was going to take me tonight. The hot swollen insides of my cunt produced so much wetness I had made a puddle. I drew some of the sticky substance up to my clit and rubbed in circles. Soon I would be with my Master. He would care for me. I knew it. It took no time at all for me to work myself into a frenzy. I was sweating and gasping. In and out. Circling my clit. My clit was pulsating, I was moaning, I was wet. I wanted to hold back, like He had taught me, like I had mastered, but I couldn’t. I felt myself coming and coming and it was a quake of spasms that shook my body. Apparently I wasn’t as trained as I thought.
Midnight. I was on his doorsteps. I knew the protocol. We had gone over in time and time again. I kneeled down, gaze down to the ground. I was wearing a white dress with straps, underneath, nothing. The dress was pure, unlike me. Since the dress was quite short, the concrete of his porch was both cold and hard beneath my legs. My knees would begin to hurt before I was brought inside, of that I was sure. I was to remain in that position, unsoiled, for as long as He saw fit.
Dawn broke, I was sore but awake. Alive. Anticipating.
The door opened.
I wasn’t allowed to look up but oh how I wanted to. I longed to gaze into His eyes and see if his eyes were warm or cold.
“Look at me.”
I gazed up. Squinting at first. My eyes found His and they locked. There was a moment of understanding between the two of us. His eyes were not unkind but they were not eyes filled with love. I drowned in the pools of darkness centered and nearly filling out the areas of circular blue. It took a moment but I realized He had me by the hand and was helping me up, our gaze never faltering. I didn’t want to look away but I knew soon He would command me to take my role as His slave and I would have to look away unless His permission was given.
We entered His home. I wanted to think of it as “our” home but I was to be his slave and nothing belonged to me, not even my own voice.
“Welcome. Your name is now Candy. You will sign your given name to the contract and then acknolwedge that from this day forward, you will be called Candy and will submit to Me until I am done with you. You are not in charge. You are expendable. If you do not obey, you will leave. You will follow instructions. You will be punished severely if you break any obligations or refuse any requests bestowed upon you. If you are a good slave, you will be rewarded because I do have a heart, but your happiness is at My mercy and your obedience is key. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You will call Me Master.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Undress.”
My thumbs seemed to be on auto-pilot as they slid the straps off my shoulders, revealing my milky white skin. Slowly, I slid the dress off my body until I had nothing on but a demure smile. My gaze had left His and He had full control.
I saw His feet shuffle and walk away. I stood there, naked, exposed, wet.
I heard Him return and in His hands were my collar.
But first, my signature. As I signed my given name and acknowledged my new name, my pussy became wet. My heart pounded in desire, in fear, in adoration.
The collar was slipped around my throat and tightened enough to make me very aware it was there but not so tight that it caused labored breathing.
He took the strap attached to my collar and led me down a stairway into a cooler area. It was big and spacious. There were two bowls on the floor. One for drinking, one for eating. I had one luxury and that was a toilet, thankfully.
He led me into a dimly lit room. There was a cage about waist high. He opened the door and I got on my hands and knees and entered. He closed the door and locked it. Lights out, door closed, pussy still wet, alone.
No pillow, no blanket. Just a cold metal floor and an uncertain itinerary. But I was happy.
I sat up, barely enough room for this, and tried to let my eyes adjust. I could make out shadows, nothing more. I wondered if He was near or if I was being monitored. I couldn’t help myself. I spread my legs and pushed my fingers deep inside my wet box. My eyes closed, legs open, cum poured out of my cunt, my lips slick with excitement.
Content, I slept.
Awake. Was it night? I couldn’t tell. There were no windows. I heard footsteps. He was entering. Eyes down.
He stood before me, I could see his feet. I heard his pants unzip but they didn’t fall.
“Turn around and put your ass up to the cage door.”
He started rubbing his big cock on my ass. The metal bars separated us but my ass and pussy were at his mercy. He started hitting me with his cock and it was heavy. He was big.
“Did you touch yourself last night?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did you have permission?”
“No, Master.”
Silence.
His hand felt inside my pussy. Of course it was wet. I could imagine his cock filling me up, filling my pussy up and making this throbbing explode.
He shoved his cock into my ass. Pain. I cried out. He did not stop, he did not go slow, he did not lubricate. He pumped and pumped into my ass until I was in tears, partly because of pain and partly because I was happy my Master was in control.
“Face forward.”
I turned in time to feel his cum hit my face, my eyes, nose, mouth, covered in sticky white cum. I dared to lick it. I wanted to taste Him.
He unlocked my door and pulled me out.
He slapped me across the face. His cum splattered on contact. I was dizzy and confused. I didn’t have permission to taste Him.
He grabbed my strap connected to my collar and led me into another room. He took the strap and connected it to a hook high above my head. There was a bench and I was told to bend over it. My hands and feet were anchored to hooks and I knew what was coming.
He took a leather strap off the wall and before my first beating began he gave me these words:
“This is going to be very severe. You are being punished for your hesitation but mostly I am teaching you a valuable lesson. I can and will beat you whenever I wish but if you ever step out of line, you will have this to look forward to. I will not break your bones but your skin will be broken. Your WILL will be broken, you will submit to me. You are mine. You will do as I say. You will fuck when I say. You will be fucked by WHOMEVER I say and WITH whatever I wish. Is this clear? You have permission to answer.”
“Yes, Master.”
And with that it began.
The first lash heightened my senses. My pussy was on fire, throbbing.
Lash after lash, he slapped my skin with his leather strap. He started at my upper back and worked his way down to my ankles. He turned me around and lashed my legs and my torso and my stomach and my chest. My skin was hot. Was I bleeding? Was this just sweat? I just knew I had heat radiating from every skin cell explosed to air. I don’t know how long this went on but at last He threw down the leather strap and unhooked me.
He bent me over a table in the corner of the room and entered me from behind. His hands grabbed my tits and he squeezed unmercifully. My whole body hurt from the thrusts, the bruises and the skin openings where He had lashed me countlessly for hours.
He pulled his cock out of my pussy and pushed me down and thrust it into my mouth. He took the back of my head and pushed His cock down my throat, choking me, exciting me, I felt His hot juices flow down my throat. I tried to swallow but His cock had my throat stretched and I coughed. Master’s cum splattered and exploded out of my throat. He removed His dick and pushed my face into the mess I had created when I coughed. I sucked it up and ingested it. My master’s cum. It tasted bitter and sweet.
“Stand up.”
He flipped on the light and stood me in front of a mirror. I was horrified. My body that used to be milky white was not purple and blue and streaked with small cuts with blood clotting in the unopened flesh.
He led me into the room where he poured water into my bowl and put some sort of mashed food that looked like baby food into the other bowl. He put His hands on my shoulders to lower me to the floor. I was on the floor like a bitch should be eating and drinking. I felt Him take my arms and pull them behind me.
“These are manacles. You will wear them until I want to take them off. Do not ask.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Tonight you sleep with me.”
“Yes, Master.”
This made me happy.
Bruised, hurting, and still wearing some of his cum, He led me upstairs and into his bedroom.
First I must shower. He washed me off, applied salve to my abrasions, and while still wearing manacles, I was placed stomach down on His bed. He covered me up. I felt His body slide into the bed next to me.
He immediately fell asleep.
I was awake. My first night. My first beating. The beginning of my slavery, my virtuous submission
