I’ve heard of boys thinking with their dicks, but I guess I was thinking with my clit. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I knocked on the apartment door. “This is such a stupid thing to do,” I whispered. I was only 18 years old and I’d never been dominated before. Apart from a few times fooling around in the back seat of my boyfriend's car, I had no real sexual experience. I was still a virgin, having never been penetrated. Yet here I was, knocking on the door of a stranger. This guy seemed nice enough in the chat room, but you never know, he could have been a perverted 80-year-old serial killer for all I knew. What was for sure was that he was really into ropes and whips and stuff like that. So was I.

The door opened, and I was suddenly greeted by a strikingly handsome guy in his mid-to-late 20s, the same as in all the pictures he shared. After a brief moment of relief, I turned my eyes downward and tried my best to adopt a submissive attitude. “Come in, " he said warmly. I stepped inside and took a glance around a beautifully decorated living room.

“This is a lovely place you…” He grabbed me forcefully and pulled my arms back, slipping a pair of leather cuffs around them and fastening them behind my back before I could even finish the sentence. He was certainly in a hurry to start this session and he knew what he was doing. I tried my best to make polite small talk, despite my hands being cuffed.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked, my eyes still glued to the ground in front of me.

He stood facing me with his arms crossed. “Everything we had to talk about, we already did through chat. You and I both know exactly what you’ve come for. From now on, you will refer to me as ‘Master’. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master,” I replied.

“Good! Now, undress.”

I paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. “How am I supposed to do that with my handcuffed, Master?” I asked, innocently. With one quick motion, he reached into my low-cut shirt, pinched my right nipple, and twisted it hard until I let out a yelp.

“Learn to keep your mouth shut!” He yelled, releasing my sore nipple.

“Yes, Master,” I replied.

With my hands still cuffed behind me, I somehow managed to get down on the ground and take my shoes and socks off. Next, I slipped off my skirt and panties. The whole time, he stood there watching me with his arms crossed. I stood up and faced him in only my low-cut, white tank top (I had chosen not to wear a bra that day), my eyes downcast.

“I told you to come here with a shaved cunt. Why didn't you obey?”

I had no answer for him. “I’m sorry, Master.” was all I could come up with.

“Get on your knees.” He said.

As I got on my knees, my eyes still on the floor, I could see and hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. My stomach tightened with nervousness. He stepped forward, grabbed the back of my head, and shoved his cock deep into my throat before I could even take a breath. His balls rested against my chin as I tried to pull away. I started to choke and gag, but his large, strong hands kept me from moving my head away. After what felt like an eternity of my gagging and struggling for breath, he finally released me and I fell back sucking in the air.

“You’ll do.” He said. He stepped forward and grabbed my hair, pulling me to my feet. He led me over to a chair and sat down in it, pulling me down with my stomach resting on his lap. He ran his fingers over my clit, feeling my wetness.

“You’re a horny young slut.” He said. He gave me a hard slap on my ass with his hand.

“You will learn how to behave with me.”

He gave me another slap.

“You will follow my orders without question.”

Slap!

“You will get pleasure and pain when I decide.”

Slap!

“With me, you will earn your true place as a slave.”

Slap!

“I say earn because you’re nothing right now. You’re a filthy, little, worthless slut.”

Slap!

That was one month ago. I moved in the very next day and started training to be his 24/7 live-in house slave. He locks away all of my clothes and forces me to remain naked at all times. The only “clothing” I am allowed is a set of leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles. I learn to be useful to my Master. I take care of all of the housework.

There are four simple rules my Master insists that I follow:

1. I am an owned slave with no rights except those given by my Master.

2. I follow any order given by my Master without question.

3. The needs of my Master come before anything else.

4. Orgasms will not be permitted except in EXTRAORDINARILY RARE moments.

Since I’m still learning, I make lots of mistakes. Once, when I accidentally didn’t swallow all of my Masters cum when he used my mouth, he put clamps on my nipples and attached them to the ceiling with chains so that I had to remain on the tips of my toes for over an hour. Another time, after I got sidetracked by cooking his breakfast and forgot to shine his shoes, he used an electric zapper on my clit until I was a sobbing mess, begging him to stop. He then proceeded to whip me savagely for daring to “Question his authority”.

A task that I particularly dread is taking out the trash every night. It is the only time I am permitted to leave the apartment, and I am forced to perform the chore while still in the nude. I wait until it is dark, race out of the apartment down two flights to the dumpster, and back as fast as I possibly can. No one has caught me yet, but I know it is only a matter of time. Master has to know that I wait until dark, and I dread the day he decides to make me perform the chore in broad daylight with people around.

He has yet to use my pussy, only my mouth. He says he is saving the “popping of my cherry” for a very special occasion. As I kneel at his feet and eat food out of my bowl on the floor, he sits at the table and eats the pot pie I cooked for him. I think about this beautiful relationship we have together and I’m so glad I found my Master. Behind me, far away, I leave my fears, doubts, and ambitions. There is only one thing I truly crave: to become a collared slave, forever owned by my Master. I will do whatever it takes to make that a reality.

TO BE CONTINUED…