6 comments/ 6362 views/ 6 favorites Consent Ch. 05 By: sublocked Author's Notes: (1) This is chapter 5. Read the first 4 please. (2) This is fiction. (3) This man is weak and broken and vulnerable. This woman is strong and broken. Could this happen? Sure it could. Don't get too tied up with that though. It's just a story. (4) Oh, and some of this stuff is unsafe sex. Don't do this at home. (5) Slavery is illegal. Reality would tell us that he would be in a mental hospital, she in jail. ***** Jack was sure he wouldn't sleep at all that night. There was just too much to think about, too much to do. Even if he was completely prepared, he was far too excited to sleep, and he was far from ready, sitting at his kitchen table scribbling notes for Geoff. There was the landlord's name and number, what was owed, the telephone details, cable TV, Internet...on and on, and it surprised him how complex his life was, as small and insignificant as he felt in the world. In listing possessions and bill payments, he wished he owned a car though, because he really did not want to be driven away by Geoff in such a final manner, dependent and vulnerable. But, on the other hand, he knew that was part of the excitement and the arousal. Finally, he had finished. His cash matters were easy; there was no money other than the $135 in his pocket. Thirty years old and his net worth was clearly negative. Now he had all his clothes carefully laid out on the bed, bureau and floor, and he was terrified. It was crap. He had three dresses, three skirts, and three blouses, all bought on the Internet without proper sizing and color matching. The underwear was easy because he had lots of it, and it was just that: under-wear. He chose black panties, a black pantie girdle, black garter belt with matching stockings and a full support black bra, and put it all on with care. The plastic water bags dropped into the cups of his bra and he felt that initial surge of sexual energy as they bounced and pulled at the straps on his shoulders. He had done a fresh shave of his entire body, so he stood looking at himself in the mirror with his head full of excitement and fantasy. She said she would get him all new clothes that fit and suited him, even some corsets. He felt his belly and pushed his waist in with his hands just above his hip bones to see what a corset would do, tilting his head and wondering. Turning around he felt his girdled bum and reflexively squeezed his sphincter. What would it be like to be a slave? When the hell had he started fantasizing that anyway? After all, when he was a child, he wanted to own one to rub his back before he went to sleep at night. His mother had stifled a smile and told him that was bad thing to say. Now he wanted to BE a slave, and even the thought of erotic humiliation began to appeal to him. When had things taken this turn? But just like the cross dressing itself, he didn't know; it was just there, seemingly guiding his path now like a light through the forest at night. The simple fact was that he fantasized it. But what would the reality be like? She said he would have to suck cocks and be a woman, and that made him shudder with revulsion at the same time that his penis said otherwise. It was the same with anal penetration. He had never allowed himself to put anything up there; it pushed him over that line which he had drawn in the sand, never to tempt fate that he might like it. Now he tried to imagine it, on all fours dressed as a woman, while a man fucked him like he was a woman. And his penis twinged again. What had happened to him, he wondered? Then there would be beatings, but he expected those to be symbolic in nature, and even though they were not fantasies of his, the domination by Mistress Johanna would make them seem like fantasies. The human toilet? Would she really do that to him? He realized that taking this "job" was worth the risk. All his dreams, and perhaps some of his nightmares, were about to come true, and even if she forced him to swallow her urine, he knew he would do as she said. He would allow all those clicks of locks, and then it would be up to her to do with him as she wished. And in his mind right now, he fantasized that he would spend the rest of his life as a woman and slave to Mistress Johanna. And it excited him. It felt so good that he started to rub the front of his girdle so that his penis grew and hardened, pointing straight up to his belly button. Remembering Mistress Johanna's phone sex instructions, he laid on the bed and thrust his hips into the mattress until he heard her voice like she was there in the room. She said, "Now listen carefully Jackie and repeat after me. If you say exactly what I tell you to say, I'll allow you to come. Is that clear?" "Yes Mistress!" He smelled her perfume. "Tell me that you're a woman Jackie. Tell me. Say it Jackie!" "Oh, please allow me to come!" He smelled the leather of her corset. But there was a block somewhere. He couldn't come and he started to tire, the thrusting becoming weaker. "Say it Jackie, say it. You can't come until you say it!" He started thinking it. Then he started saying it, and hands seemed to reach to him out of his darkness, pulling him into the fantasy. "Mistress Johanna, no, please, no, I can't, please...Mistress Johanna, no! Oh my God, I...I'm a woman!" In the groan of orgasm he forced the words out as commanded, "Oh no, no, I'm a woman, no, no, no...oh God, no! Oh Jesus!" Jack soaked the girdle and bed in continuous streams of ejaculate, moaning and thrashing as if he had been in normal intercourse, but as soon as he caught his breath, reason prevailed and he realized this was far from normal. As always, the guilt and shame settled in hard, like a steel top closing on a steel coffin. "What have I done?" he said out loud, "What the hell am I about to do?" Without even bothering to change out of the damning clothes, he walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine, slammed it down his throat, poured another glass, and went out on the balcony where the cold late Autumn air stunned him, but not in the way he thought it would. He had thought it would clear his mind so he could stop this ridiculous adventure. Instead, the cold air on his silky stockings made him aware of his femininity once more, and he became Jaqueline again almost instantly. It was then that he realized there was no escape; he had to have this, no matter what the cost, no matter what the risk. Again he talked to himself. "Oh my God!" he said, "I want this! I really want this. Tomorrow...no, today, I am going to be a slave to Mistress Johanna. I want it, and I can't stop myself! I won't stop myself. This is going to be real!" He turned back inside and closed the balcony door. There was no draft of air tonight. The door seemed to slam shut for the first time ever. The door to the bedroom beckoned him, shining with light, and he marched in to choose a different girdle and panties to wear tomorrow. He took his soiled ones off, washed himself, and put the new ones on. Now that the big choice was made, the choice of a dress was easy. It was blue, with long tight lacy sleeves, a tight bosom, and a flared skirt to give the illusion of female hips. He put his only pair of high heels on and sat down to do his makeup. It was 4:00 AM by the time he put his wig on and brushed it out. Standing in front of the mirror, he fantasized that Jaqueline stared back, and hoped she was good enough. He made some coffee, sat at his desk and waited, going through Mistress Johanna's website for the thousandth time. Soon he would be a player on that website. Soon. He awoke to a buzzing sound and was confused. What had happened? Looking at the clock on the desk he panicked; it was 8:05, and the buzzer went on relentlessly. Jack ran to the door and pressed the intercom. "Yes?" he said. "This is Geoffrey. I just talked to Mistress Johanna and she says that if you're not down here in five minutes, the deal is off. Bad start sir." "Oh my God. Geoffrey. Yes. Oh shit, umm, let me just use the bathroom, and fix my, umm... Uh, I'll be down right away. I'm so sorry; I fell asleep. Is that okay? Don't leave, please don't leave." For some reason he just could not say to another man that he had to fix his makeup. "Okay, that's fine Jackie. I'll wait, but Mistress Johanna is not happy with you. Already, I might add." "Be right there." Rushing to the bathroom Jack pulled his girdle and panties down and sat on the toilet to pee. While he did so he looked for smears or flaws in the makeup that he had applied just before he had fallen asleep. When he tucked his penis away and pulled up the underwear again, he checked for a bulge and there was none. Next he powdered his face lightly and applied another layer of lipstick, a light unremarkable color that he hoped would not clash with his dress and the subtle shading of his makeup. Standing back, he let out a deep sigh, blowing air deeply out of his lungs in a pressure relief valve sort of way. It was 8:07. Grasping the suitcase containing all his female identity by the handle, he wheeled it to the door and did a deep sigh once more before he opened it and stepped into the hallway and into his future. He knew there would be people there, and there were. A Middle Eastern couple stood at the elevator, she with a Hijab and standing obediently one pace behind a well-dressed man with a brief case. As he approached, wheeling the suitcase, he felt his breasts bounce in the bra, but more than that, he saw the disapproving looks of the man as he stared at Jack's jiggling breasts, short dress and high heels. The woman stared straight ahead. The silence was overwhelming, but the tension got worse when the elevator door opened with a ding. There were three young women, probably in their early twenties standing there, clearly friends, as they all stood together to one side. Jack felt like he was a turkey being basted by critical eyes. They all smiled and looked at one another discreetly, but not discreetly enough. Nobody analyzes a woman and her attire more than another woman. And they knew right away. It was many things. His guilty and terrified look, his bitten fingernails, the wobble of his heels, all gave him away, and then there was the fact that he didn't have a coat to wear outside. One of the girls spoke, "Wow, you're brave today." He just smiled, not wanting to reveal his deeper voice, even though he knew they had nailed him. "It's minus 10, and no coat. Gonna be chilly. Cute dress though." One of the other girls turned around abruptly and pretended she was rifling through her purse, but the shake of her shoulders gave it all away. The third girl just made a tight line of her lips, not wanting any part of the barely concealed mocking. Jack sought out the third girl with his eye contact, and he hoped the thank-you message got to her. It must have, because when they reached the main floor, she reached out and touched his tight lacy sleeve, saying, "It's okay. You look fine. Have a great Monday." Again he smiled, following her out, his knees now shaking uncontrollably. He was a fool to think he looked like a woman, to even think he ever could, no matter what. Why was he being so foolish? But as he walked toward the revolving front entrance door where a man stood, he felt the cold air hit his nylon-clad legs and swirl up and around his panties. One last giggling look from the rude girl, and he felt it: the bizarre erotic nature of his humiliation, the fact that he was doing this because Mistress Johanna had told him he had to do it. In full-on fantasy, he felt his legs swish past each other, and the satiny cool feel of his dress on his thighs and calves, and the compression of the girdle on his penis. He shuddered in an astonishing desire to orgasm. It was right there, ready, just one more step way in the high heels. But then he reached the door, breathless and still on the edge, where Geoffrey reached out his hand to take his luggage. "It's 8:11. I have to tell her you know." His look was serious as he turned to walk away, through the moving door, into the cold. Jack assumed he was to follow, but it wasn't exactly an introduction. A Lexus awaited in the wind and buffeting snow flurries and his suitcase was placed in the trunk which closed with a thud. The back door of the car was open, so he climbed in, trying to settle his flying skirt. Another man walking by slowed his pace and waited for glimpses of panty or better, and he got it, as the skirt flew up to Jack's chin revealing his girdle, garters, and nylon hose. He brushed it all down and glanced at the man who smiled and nodded his head in approval. After he closed his door, Geoff's door closed and the engine was started, bringing much needed heat to the chilled air. Silence ensued until Jack asked politely, "What do you mean by having to tell Mistress Johanna?" "You were not only late," he said, "but you were late again when you told me five minutes to get down the elevator. She won't like that." "Why? I wasn't THAT late, for cryin' out loud." "Jackie, it's disrespectful to be late. She won't like that, that's all. I've learned never to be late." "Jeez, it's not like I was half an hour late or anything. Does she deduct pay for being late or something?" Geoff glanced with a puzzled look into the rear view mirror, shook his head in amazement at Jack's naivety, and started another conversation. "It takes about half an hour to get to Mistress Johanna's house. She lives in the southwest, in the foothills, and it's pretty isolated. Are you warm enough back there? That dress looks a bit light. You look good though." "Yeah, I'm fine. And thanks. But I feel a bit like an idiot." "Just so you know," Geoffrey said, "so you don't dig your hole any deeper, we're being recorded. You're always recorded from now on." "I see. Why?" "No deeper dumbass. Don't dig deeper. Relax and enjoy the scenery; it may be awhile before you see any of it again, from what I can tell." Jack felt that draft again, that shiver of cold excitement and fear, and he shifted in his seat, feeling his satiny things slip and slide. The seat belt crossed between his breasts and kept them separate as two mountains. "I'm kinda scared Geoffrey," he said hesitantly. "Don't be, okay? There's wine in the armrest beside you. I know it's morning, but just relax and trust in Mistress Johanna. She knows what is best for me, uh, for you. Just trust in that." The car pounded through a pothole like a period at the end of a sentence, and that was the end of the conversation. Trust, he thought. Yes, there was that. And he could always leave if it didn't work out. One last question. "Geoffrey, how long have you been with Mistress Johanna?" "Four and a half years. She's owned me for four and half years." Owned, he had said. As if it was nothing and everything and ordinary. Well, that was Geoffrey, not him. He was Jack, and Jack could always leave any time he wanted. She told him he could, and he trusted that. They traveled south along 24th street, then west toward the Tsuu T'Ina Indian Nation, and south again along its boundary to highway 22X, and then headed west. This area was what he often called "The Shire", in honor of his imagined view of what the hobbits' homeland would be like, a pastoral and tranquil mix of forest and ranch land nestled in the foothills with the Canadian Rockies in the background. Houses grew more spaced with distance from the city. He reached for the Shiraz in the protected compartment beside him and poured a bit into a glass, swirling it slightly to release the bouquet. Beautiful. The taste expanded in a slow crescendo in his mouth and he smacked his lips slightly. Wow! That was real wine; it even had a name, something he couldn't pronounce. He poured some more and relaxed while staring at the mountains, still and placid in the distance, capped with masses of early winter snow. In fact, as they travelled west and gained elevation, the ground became white with snow, unblemished except for occasional coyote or deer trails. His spirits lifted, like a boy in a toy store. Unexpectedly however, he started feeling anxious and began to drink the wine a little more quickly. Alarm bells in his head started out with a distant "tinkle" and were now clanging wildly. What the fuck was he doing? What in the fuck was he doing here, in this car, going to live in an unknown house, employed by a strange woman...to be a slave or prostitute? He hadn't even told anyone where he was going. That was stupid. What if this was some sort of setup? He had visions of the doors being locked from the outside and he was now trapped. He quickly activated his cell phone and brought up his contact list, but then realized with despair that there was no one emotionally close enough to him that really cared. Who the hell would he phone, his brothers that he hadn't seen in years, his former work acquaintances, his gamer friends in Japan or England? And what would he tell them anyway; to come and get him if something went wrong with his new job as a slave to a dominatrix? The phone went back in his lap, cradled by the web of his skirt. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Relax. Let the world take you. Let her take you. This was no setup. All he had was his body and his fantasies. These two things were his and his alone, and could not be owned. He could always leave. The car slowed and turned north on an oiled gravel road. They were riding a ridge, and there was a view of the distant city skyline ahead on the right, with the desolate mountains on the left to the west, both miles away. The road was uneven now and often quite bumpy, and it forced Jack to be careful with his drink as he didn't want to spill anything on his dress. His heavy watery breasts bounced and jostled in his bra, constantly alerting him as to his illusion of femininity. The wine had left him with an imaginative edge, and he was feeling like her. He was Jackie now. The gravel turned to pavement once again and he could see that they were traversing the ridge, losing elevation to the northwest, and then due west so that the ridge appeared to grow higher to his right, now obscuring the city view. Abruptly Geoffrey slowed once more and made a sharp right and a very large 3-car garage faced them immediately, nestled into the side of a snow covered escarpment with scattered gnarled pine trees, bent by winter winds. The far left door opened remotely. Jack's head bobbed about as he tried to see a house, but there were only large spruce and aspen trees on a large lawn to his left, the garage to the front and the rising snowy escarpment to the right. The garage swallowed them up and the door closed with a firm and audible clunk. He felt that same feeling of shock one gets outside the car when the door locks at the precise moment one sees the keys in the ignition, a finality, the "oh shit" moment. There was confused chatter in his head as his conflicting thoughts tried to make order of this strangeness, but he was loving every nanosecond of it. Geoffrey opened the door for him and said, "Here we are. Sorry for bringing you in through the garage, but the front doorstep isn't shoveled yet. Was the wine okay?" The contrast of the clarity, civility, and normality of this small talk with the bizarre nature of this whole event was utterly confusing, like someone shaking you while having a bad dream, it merged together, both of them real, or both of them dreams, or one of each. Jack looked around. The garage was cavernous. A silver colored Infiniti G-37x convertible with its top up occupied one of the spaces. It had "fender-bergs" and was dripping wet and filthy as it had recently been driven in the cold and was warming up to the garage temperature. The final space at the end of the garage had been transformed into a large workshop with an enormous selection of tools on the far wall, a compressor, and even a welding generator for arc welding. Windows to his left revealed the doorstep with at least six inches of snow, and for the first time he saw an oblique partial view of a grey stucco-sided house. Consent Ch. 05 Realizing he still had a wine glass in his hand, Jack looked at Geoffrey and said, "The wine is fantastic, thank-you." He drained the remains and handed the glass to him. "Come inside. I'll take you to her now." They had entered the house, a modest garage entrance, a mudroom in any house, but ahead of him he saw an enormously long slate-tiled hallway about six feet wide and perhaps as much as eighty feet long. He judged it must cut into the side of the escarpment in some way. There were four doorways on the left side of the hall. Opposite the last door was the only exit door on the right hand side of the hallway, a large one, perhaps made from stainless steel, maybe a refrigerator. He couldn't be sure from this distance, but it seemed odd. "Wow, this is huge. What's at the end there? Looks like a vault or large refrigerator or something." Jack spoke nervously, partly to make conversation in his apprehension. Geoffrey smiled and said, "Bomb shelter entrance. The original house was built in the early sixties or late fifties. Air scrubbers, deep under the hillside, the whole cold war thing. That's where the dungeons are. But follow me for now; you'll see them later." Jack remained silent but kept his eyes on that closed stainless steel door as long as he could before they turned left after exiting the mudroom and walked past the front entrance foyer down a short very wide carpeted hallway toward the masterpiece of the house. Suddenly the ceiling height doubled to about twenty feet and the full beauty and elegance of the dwelling hit his sight like a two-by-four to his forehead. The entire southwest facing part of the house was glass, framing a view of the Canadian Rockies. Inside, to his left was the kitchen area with a nook and bar with seating options of facing the view or the Great Room. Everything about this place smacked of "large", with open space from the end of the kitchen, across the bar, past the dining area and through to the end of the main living room, a full eighty feet in all, with a thirty-five foot width. It was built clearly to maximize the mountain view as if nothing else mattered, and indeed that was true. At the northwest end was a gas fireplace with black Rundle-stone rock work floor to ceiling and foot-warming capability from both inside in the great room and outside on the patio. Sofas and plush chairs were strategically placed to allow clusters of sitting, as well as standing guests. In the central area near the kitchen was a large oak dining room table with ten chairs. It was more like a hotel lobby than a room in a dwelling and yet it invited those present to relax in a homey way. In his awe at the place, he simply gawked like a child, almost bumping into a huge aquarium in the middle of the room. Exotic fish darted about, startled at the disturbance. Jack finally allowed a low whistle to escape his lips. "My God," he said, "this is some kind of place!" as he felt the cold side of the fish tank. Geoffrey smiled and simply concurred, "Yes, it is, isn't it?" Then he cleared his throat and said, "Mistress Johanna, here is the, umm...Jackie is here. What instructions do you have for me ma'am?" Jack looked around but saw no one until a large swiveling chair turned slowly to face him. He tried to catch his breath, but it was too late; it exhaled from him like a deflating balloon. The sight of her almost made him kneel in her presence. Mistress Johanna sat there with a combination of mystery, coldness, and humor, and as usual she was hard to read. She said, "Is this your fantasy Jackie? All this black leather? The corset, the whip, the boots? Is this what you wanted Jackie?" She held her arms out as if to curtsy. "Uh, yes ma'am, uh jeez, you look stunning ma'am." "Get down on your knees please Jackie and put your hands together behind your back while Geoffrey and I talk." Jack glanced at Geoffrey, as if seeking advice. Geoffrey nodded slightly and Jack giggled nervously as he sunk to his knees and clasped his hands behind his back. "Jackie, you don't seek permission from him; you seek it from me. Head down. Look at the floor!" she said sharply, "Where is your purse?" "I don't have one ma'am." "I see. Some woman you are! Where is your cell phone and keys or code to your apartment suite?" "The keys are in my bag. My cell phone is right here." "Give the cell phone to Geoffrey. Look at the floor!" "Jeez! Yes ma'am." "Geoffrey, I want you to stay until the new slave is familiar with his room. Then I want you to go back to the apartment and arrange for all of Jackie's belongings to be put in storage. Leave the cell phone with me." Before Geoffrey could respond, Jackie looked up and said with alarm, "I need my cell phone. What if someone wants to phone me?" "Then I'll take a message. If it's truly important, you can access it. Floor!" "God!" Jack gasped out reflexively. Mistress Johanna glared at him after his response. "I see you know nothing about this, do you?" "Ma'am?" "You've chosen rapid total immersion training, and obviously you need it. Now, be quiet unless you are asked a question. I assume you have some instructions regarding bill payments etc. for Geoffrey?" "Yes ma'am. On the kitchen table." Jack kept his eyes firmly on the floor. His knees were getting sore already. Mistress Johanna suppressed a smile. Geoffrey backed away now at a wave of Mistress Johanna's hand and she started circling Jackie in his subservient posture. Jackie felt twinges of silliness rush through him. He could overpower her, but the hulking presence of Geoffrey was a concern. He let her circle him silently, like a cat with a mouse. Eventually in the silence and his pose, the silliness somehow vanished and was replaced with an intangible respect or fear; he wasn't sure which. But he felt her, even as he stared at the floor. His hands fidgeted. "You don't have very good female taste, I'm sorry to say. Your dress is way out of date, your makeup is too rough and layered, and your wig is atrocious and obvious. Take your dress off." "Yes ma'am." He pulled it over his head and laid it on the chair beside his right shoulder. Mistress Johanna smiled and said, "Better taste with underwear I see, but it's all black. You'll never wear black again. I wear black; you wear pink, red, or baby blue. Understood?" "Yes ma'am." "Take it all off." "Ma'am?" "You heard me." Jack stood, removed all of it and kneeled down again quickly to try to hide his genitals. The riding crop slapped into his shoulders with stinging accuracy. Jesus! She hit me with a whip, Jack thought with alarm and dismay. And it hurt! "Hands behind your back!" She continued to circle him and she noticed Jack's embarrassment as his erection grew. It was a pleasing size, not small, not large. She noted that he had shaved all his body hair off, if he had any. That was good. "Very good," she said softly as she stood before him placing the riding crop under his chin and forcing it up. "You are being videoed. You've come here of your own free will?" "Yes ma'am." "To be my slave?" "Uh, well, uh yes ma'am." His penis rose up and his sphincter muscles clenched rhythmically causing it to bob up and down slightly. His face burned with erotic humiliation and pre-sexual flush. "Do you here and now agree to be my slave, to mold and change as I see fit? Do I have your consent to do so?" Jack stared up into her eyes, mesmerized, and said without hesitation, "Yes ma'am, you have my consent." Now Mistress Johanna smiled and said, "You recognize that slavery is illegal, but you give your consent to be my slave?" "Yes ma'am." "But you understand this can only be make-believe by law?" "Uh, yes ma'am," Jack said, with a hint of disappointment, "but, I wish it was...I want it to be, uh, real. Ma'am." Mistress Johanna's dimples appeared in a bright smile as she said, "Yes, well, that is my secret...reality." Jack looked up at her, puzzled at that remark. "Head down!" The command was incongruent to her smiling look. As he stared at the floor once again, Jack heard a slight clinking sound and then felt heavy cold metal on his neck as a shiny solid stainless steel collar closed around him and fastened with an audible click behind his head. This was followed by Mistress Johanna tightening a small set screw with a special wrench. "You are now owned by me. One final time...do you agree to ownership?" "Yes ma'am." "Excellent." With that, she attached a leash to a small d-ring on the front of the collar and said, "Stand up and follow me to your room for the first month of your immersion." She looked at the video camera and said, "This is Monday November 28th, 2014. The subject has agreed to be a slave as of this date. A number and slave identification will be entered into a log book and also registered at the Slave Registry site on the Web. His slave number will be logged once registration is complete." Jack's heart was beating wildly as he stood, but his embarrassment was still acute, as his erection continued to stand out like a coat hook. His face burned with arousal. Nervously, he said, "Wow! That seemed intense and formal. Any chance we can sit down and get to know each other a bit?" Mistress Johanna looked at him as if he was a lunatic. "What?" she said, "I didn't ask you to speak. Did I?" "No, ma'am. But, you know, I was just thinking, you might like to know more of my fantasies and stuff like that before we go on?" "You're doing it again! Shut the fuck up! Jackie, let me be clear, I don't really care what your fantasies are, as long as you can act in a realistic manner in my videos and for my clients. I know enough of your fantasies to keep you here, and I intend to make sure you are saturated with your desires. The rest is mine. Understood?" She had tensioned the leash so that his head was inches from her face. The dimples were gone, and her eyes flashed with something unknown, but it certainly was at least a proxy for something that required respect. He couldn't hold her gaze, so he looked down and to the side, and said, "I see. Yes ma'am." His envisioned train of fantasy development was going off the rails quickly here, but it was not an entirely unpleasant feeling. It felt real, like he really was a slave. "Good. Now Geoffrey and I will show you your room and give you your first lecture. You'll listen and not speak, is that clear?" "Sure. Whatever. Yes ma'am." He still had not come to grips in his own mind that Mistress Johanna was not acting. His head was jerked quickly and sharply by the leash and behind him, he heard Geoffrey say under his breath, "Ooo boy..." But nothing else was said. The mysterious giant stainless steel door opened silently on well-greased hinges revealing over-engineered sealing flaps for airtightness. They all stepped over a bulkhead into a large, well-furnished room with a bar, several sofas and soft chairs. There was no carpet but the floor was soft and cushioned with a rubber-like slate grey material. The walls were pink-painted concrete, with large mirrors and numerous deep red curtains to soften the look. Then he noticed the large pet cages scattered about and the dozens of chains hanging from pulleys in the high ceiling. His eyes followed the chains to their sources, the electric winches. In his mind he began to understand that this was some sort of viewing room for Mistress Johanna, so she could relax and gloat over her slaves in various modes of bondage. The back of the room had an open doorway which they entered now, and a hallway extended for perhaps another 100 feet, with five doors equally spaced on the left hand side. "That first room was the original bomb shelter. I added the rest of this as the business grew." Jack was staring in awe and he answered in the same awed way, "Yes ma'am." They passed the closed doors, labeled consecutively Cell A through Cell E. They entered Cell E and turned on the light. The door swung closed with a resounding thud behind them. "This is your home for the next month, or longer if required. Each of these rooms is soundproofed." Jack looked around with continued awe and shock. The room had to be about twenty feet square, with pink concrete walls and curtains like the first entry room, but there were more mirrors, making it all seem larger. In the far right corner was a typical barred jail cell enclosing a cot, vanity bureau, toilet, shower, and sink. She led him into it, removed his leash and then stepped outside, swinging the cell door closed. "Geoffrey, you can go do what I asked of you now. The slave is secured." "Yes ma'am." And he left. Mistress Johanna stood staring at him with her legs spread and her arms folded under her breasts. Jack stood in the centre of the cell nude except for his slave collar. "This is a prop right?" he said apprehensively, "I mean...I can get out, right?" "Of course!" she said with a smile. "Phew! You had me..." She interrupted him. "If I let you out." Suddenly Jack ran to the cell door and pushed, because he knew she hadn't locked it with a key. It resisted and blocked his exit. "Jesus!" he said, laughing with an equal mix of excitement and fear, "You mean business! What if there's a fire or something though?" "It's an electronic lock, and it's tied to the smoke detectors and fire alarms. I have a proximity card that I can use to open it." "And you're seriously going to keep me in here?" "Yes, of course. When I want to use you for a video or training or client entertainment, you will first restrain yourself within your cell. Then I open it and take you away." Jack smiled. "Well, what if I choose NOT to restrain myself?" "You're not as smart as you think Jackie. (a) You wouldn't get any food delivered, and (b) when you finally relented, you'd be punished. And the type of punishment that I would choose would not be one that you would enjoy. Masochism only carries you so far." "Oh. Hmm, I'm beginning to understand. So, for the next month, I'm either locked in this cell, or I'm restrained. That's a long time. And I bet the "consent" thing has just flown out the window then?" "Yes, I suppose it has, and you know what else? It'll change you. This is how I acquired Geoffrey, and it worked fine; he can't conceive of leaving me." Jack sat on his new bed and didn't answer. This was a little bit more reality than he wanted at this time. Mistress Johanna literally beamed as she started her lecture, "So, now that I have a captive audience, I will give you your instructions. Your bureau is filled with various pieces of pink underwear, some panties, garter belts, bras, and stockings. There might even be some girdles that will fit you. Anyway, I want you to be wearing at least a pair of panties and a bra from now on. The bras that I've selected for your initial training are 36C and there are silicone inserts for them as well. Tomorrow you'll be measured for everything, and new clothes ordered. Until your own hair grows out, you can wear the wig on the mannequin head on the bureau. Wear it all the time. Later, when we get your fitted clothes and shoes, you'll be wearing high heels at all times as well, but for now you can go barefoot. I see that you already shave your body. That's good, because I require that you have no hair below your eyebrows. Later I'll arrange for hair removal by electrolysis, a lengthy process but well worth it. Your fingernails are disgusting, so you'll be fitted with gel nail caps to enable your own to grow out as required. I know how to do that, so that'll be tomorrow as well." Mistress Johanna was pacing and silently thinking for a few moments until she remembered something else. "Also," she said, "the instructions on how to do an enema are next to the toilet. You will do one every morning. Following this, you will shower and insert the smallest of the stainless steel anal plugs into your ass and wear it inserted constantly. The plugs are in the lowest drawer. As you get used to it, the size will increase until you are able to receive any size of penis or plug." Jack's eyes were as wide as saucers and he tried to say something, but was stopped by Johanna raising her hand and saying, "I want no comments, no questions. I am giving you instructions and I do expect them to be followed. I'm going to leave now and I want you to do everything I've ordered as if it was tomorrow morning. And have yourself ready in one hour." She turned to leave as he yelled, "Seriously? I can't do that!" Johanna stopped and slowly turned around while she collected her thoughts to speak. "Jackie, I have a hard time being patient, but for you I'll try. Tell me, what did you like most about the videos on my site?" "Well, I guess first of all it was the subject matter. Secondly the scenarios you portrayed were always so intense, and the acting was so good. They seemed so real in their eroticism for me anyway." "Acting? What makes you believe they were acting?" "Well, they were all models, right? You paid them?" "No. I pride myself on choosing people that are excited by what they do, who are turned on by the strangest things. Those subjects never rehearsed anything. They never knew what I was going to do to them, ever. That submission, fear, and sometimes pain that you watched? It was real, every bit of it. The humiliation, the pain, the bondage, all real. There was never any acting. You can't act this; you have to live it." She was standing with her legs spread slightly and her hands on her leather hips. He watched her smile as his own mouth opened somewhat and betrayed his own fear right now. "So, you mean my job will be no act? I'm subject to anything you decide to do?" "Finally, you understand." "Jesus, Mistress Johanna, that's crazy! Why don't people just leave? I'll leave." "Great question. They need me. They need me to deliver their fantasies. In return I demand total obedience. And they give it because THAT is their fantasy. You will too." "Whoa ma'am, you're scaring me here. I can't do that. I don't think I should do that." "Jackie," she said in exasperation, "Why in hell did you come here then for Christ's sake? I assumed you were following your fantasies. I didn't think you were just plain stupid! Do you want to leave? I'll release you right now. All the fantasies you had in your head will just fly away. Do you want that? Now answer me. DO YOU WANT TO LEAVE RIGHT NOW?" Jack was so totally confused. She had called his bluff. He stumbled into his response. "No, well, maybe yes, but...all this stuff you are telling me to do, I can't do it, but I want to stay." Mistress Johanna sighed heavily and said, "Make up your mind; I have some men to torture, and I'm late." She tapped her foot and looked at her watch. He rattled the locked cell door in frustration, and then submitted. "Okay, all right. I want to stay, but jeez...an enema every morning?" Johanna walked to within a foot of his locked cell and said, "Okay, so I think I have this right. You want to stay, so you're staying. That's one bridge crossed. I have given you instructions. You can complete them, or you can choose not to. Your choice then, but there will be consequences. I'd do it all if I were you." "But..." Too late. She went through the door and he was left in absolute silence as the door closed with a thud. He didn't see it, but Johanna burst out laughing once the door closed. This was so much fun. And the best part? She knew he was enjoying it too. Meanwhile Jack was left standing in his cell in shock at what he had just done. She was right; he was stupid. He couldn't get out of here. He had to do as she said or it was clearly implied he would be punished. He walked to the cell door for one last push and pull and then he went around the perimeter of the cell checking for weaknesses. There were none. She had him and it was going to be this way for a month. He suddenly realized that he might as well enjoy it as much as possible then, and after the month, he would decide if he should leave. Consent Ch. 05 He had an hour. He had to get busy. Clearly the enema had to come first, but he wanted to see what was to be inserted afterward, so he opened the bottom drawer of the bureau where three shiny stainless steel anal plugs lay in a box lined with white tissue. Even the smallest was heavy in his hand as he lifted it up. It was about an inch and a half wide at the bulbous business end, and it tapered abruptly to about three quarters of an inch where his sphincter muscles would grasp and hold it in place. Then it flared out into a small handle which could be used to help guide it in. There were three tubes of KY jelly. He replaced the plug and closed the drawer, staring around himself, flabbergasted at his predicament. This was real; it was fucking real! And fear coursed through him as he saw his own penis standing erect and straight in front of him. Gone was the point where he could have walked away. He had expected a click of a lock to be that point of time; instead it was his verbal consent to Mistress Johanna to train him. The point had passed and he hadn't even taken note of it. Now he was on the other side, the point of no return, and his fear only intensified the erotic nature of his choices. He read the instruction on the label of the enema equipment and did what was required, feeling distinctly unsexy as he was voiding his bowels on the toilet. Then he did it again and noticed that everything was clear fluid. After showering, he chose a pink full support bra and matching pantie and put them on. The silicone inserts were also in the top drawer and when he dropped them into his cups, they were so heavy they bounced. Moments afterward a thin film of body moisture seemed to seal them to his chest as if they were a part of him. Then he remembered the anal plug and pulled his panties down. He had seen enough videos that he thought he knew what to do, so, going down on all fours, he liberally lubricated both himself and the smallest plug and started to push against his opening. At first it was exciting; then it started to hurt, so he rushed it, trying to push it harder to get the pain over with. He lost his resolve due to the pain and let it come back. This time when he pushed he tried to relax, putting himself into a submissive mental state. The pain was still there, but as he continued to exert pressure, a maximum threshold appeared to have been gained, and it suddenly slipped into his hole completely. He turned it around a bit to see if there was a preferential orientation and he gasped suddenly with an intense pleasure. "Jesus Christ!" he groaned out loud. The urge to masturbate was instant and almost overwhelming, and in fact, the feel of the plug inside him had tuned him to the point of near release already. He looked around and noticed the video cameras, one at each upper corner of his cell, and decided that masturbation would not be appropriate. Standing up, the plug shifted, and with the increased involuntary clenching of his sphincter, his breath quickened. He had to get release; he just had to, but he knew he should not. Instead he pulled a small pink pantie girdle out of the drawer and wiggled into it so that the in and out movement of the plug was eliminated, and it could not fall out. His throbbing penis was flattened against his belly and he thought about doing the phone sex thing that Mistress Johanna had guided him through that first night, but he didn't. He trusted Johanna; she would take care of that. He had finished his preparations with twenty minutes to spare, and now he explored with his eyes the room outside his barred cell. The walls bristled with both bondage attachment points and bondage items, most of which he had never seen before in any pictures. There were hoods, mitts, chains and clips, straps, leashes, and even some whips. He shook his head from side to side while he waited for his mistress, his owner, to come and get him and marvelled at the paraphernalia of restraint laid out before him. He was clearly in over his head and was totally dependent upon his mistress for his very survival; at least that was what he thought. He stood and waited. Then he tried sitting on the bed and the anal plug started its massage. After a few minutes of rotating his body in increasingly urgent movements, he finally succumbed and rolled over on his stomach to do the deed. Blood was rushing through his ears as he thrust over and over on the bed. Finally he felt what he thought was the beginnings of climax and he started to moan. "What are you doing?" Mistress Johanna yelled, "Stop that right now! Jesus, I leave you for an hour and you try this?" Her voice shook him back to reality and he stopped, feeling extremely embarrassed. Standing up, he said, "I'm sorry ma'am; I just got carried away. I'm sorry." He stood there in his pink panties, girdle, bra, and wig and kept his head down looking at the floor while he held his hands together in front of the girdle where his penis was still contoured, twitching and ready. "Come over here and put your arms through the restraint window please," she said sternly. He didn't know what that was but went to where she was standing and noticed a gap in the bars, enough to put his hands through, and he did so. With some effort a thick rubber bondage mitten was placed on each hand while he made fists, and they were pulled up tight. She locked them at his wrists with small luggage locks, then told him to turn around and put his hands behind his back. Now he was hearing those beloved clicks of locks, more layers of submission and helplessness. Johanna entered the cell and approached him, telling him to bend over. When he did, she checked for the anal plug, slapped him hard on the buttocks and attached a leash to his collar. She pulled him roughly along as he struggled to keep his balance with his hands useless and locked behind his back. "The first thing you have to learn is the consequences for speaking out of turn or for being disobedient. You were late for Geoffrey, so I'm told by him, and you've been a complete asshole since you arrived. You'll learn that it's better to be silent than to speak the way you have." "Jesus, what are you going to do?" he asked in alarm. She ignored him until she got to her destination. "Here we are in Cell A, slave. You can see that there are several slaves that have been confined in their cages for the past 24 hours or so. They've been pretty good about it, very obedient slaves, so I thought I would just give them a small reward." Jack glanced around the room in extreme embarrassment at the four men confined in the pet cages next to the wall. Rubber tubes ran from their penises to urine bags which showed varying levels of fluid in them. Their hands were useless, held within bondage mittens similar to his, and their mouths were gagged with ball gags. They looked stressed and tired, and rivers of drool ran down their chins and dropped to the bottoms of the cages. Their eyes lit up at the prospect of being relieved of their painful boredom temporarily and they repositioned themselves like dogs in the cages so they could see what was taking place. A woman he had never seen before stood off to the side dressed in latex and with a video camera on a tripod. The lighting in the room was bright and there was an excited anticipation in the air like heavy sweaty mist. Jack was pushed down on his knees so that his ankles could be restrained on the floor. The steel eye loops at the ends of his bondage mittens were also locked to the floor restraints so that he had to remain on his knees and erect with his shoulders back. Never had he felt so helpless and aroused. Something was going to happen to him; he just had no idea what that would be. His face was a mask of anticipation, apprehension, lust, and fear as he waited, clenching his anal plug periodically. He could hear movement behind him but he obediently kept his head forward and down, until someone grabbed him by the ear, pulled his head back, and inserted a penis gag. It all happened so fast and the length of it went far back in his mouth. His tongue could feel the fake veins in the dildo, and the head of it only left a small opening at the back of his mouth. The surprise of the assault on his mouth caused him to cry out as best he could, but it came out as unintelligible grunts and moans. He shook his head violently from side to side like a horse that didn't want the bit, but then he heard the click of another lock and knew his fate was sealed. Jack breathed rapidly through his nose and whimpered slightly as the strange woman panned the video camera over his wide-eyed face. He tried to turn away in shame, but Mistress Johanna grabbed his head and faced him toward the lens. "You, Jackie, are a perverted little trannie slut, aren't you?" she whispered into his ear while the camera zoomed in. "And you were disobedient, weren't you? Nod your head if you agree." She increased the intensity yet again by manually forcing his head up and down. She rubbed her hands over his breasts held in the bra and said, "As Geoffrey knows very well, ALL disobedience is punished in some way. Right now, I don't know what you are capable of enjoying; it could be what I'm about to do to you...I just don't know. But I'll learn, and so will you. As I do learn, you'll understand that I will find your weaknesses and exploit them. Maybe it's today's treatment; maybe it's the human toilet, but I WILL find out. Are you ready for your punishment slave?" Now he was afraid. He tried to look around over his shoulder to see what was coming, but the camera followed him. Some drool dripped from his mouth, and he found it difficult to get a full breath of air. He grunted and nodded his head in the paradox of no-choice consent. There was a commotion behind him as all the other captive males were released from their cages. They were told to line up one behind each other in front of Jack. That's when he noticed that each man had the word slave and a number written on his forehead and abdomen. Mistress Johanna pushed the first slave forward until his penis was directly in front of Jack's face. Then she started to rub it until it rose straight and hard in front of him. Jack looked on in horror and tried to turn his head away, but now Mistress Johanna ordered, "Stare straight ahead, or this will be much worse!" Then she removed his wig and placed it out of sight. Slave Number 23 had his eyes closed and he swayed slightly as Johanna brought him closer to orgasm. She soothed him into a trance as she rubbed and stroked, saying, "You finally get to cum Number 23! And all over the face of this new slave, this trannie called Jackie. Say you want to fuck her face number 23. Say you want to fuck Jackie's face. Say it or I'll stop." She did stop, just to make her point, and he came to action with an urgency. He repeated over and over again, "Jackie, I want to fuck your face...Jackie, oh Jackie..." To Jack it was like slow motion as the semen exited the head of Number 23's penis, landing on his forehead and nose, spurt after spurt until he felt it running past his gag, over his chin and dripping to the floor. Johanna held him by the hair with one hand and forced him to take the face wash. Then when 23 was done, number 26 came forward. Jack was trying to escape with violent twists of his body, but the bondage was simple and perfect. Within minutes he couldn't open his eyes without being blinded by more salty semen. His cheeks and chin displayed rivers of it, and he shook his head to try to knock it loose, all to no avail. Number 24. He was a small man, but he obviously wanted to really fuck Jack's face so he stared at him the whole time, and the volume of his ejaculate was at least twice the other two combined. Jack had no vision left, and even his nose was starting to be plugged with the fluid as it coagulated and found places to stick. Mistress Johanna spoke as she pulled number 30, the last one, forward. "Number 30, I know you well; you've been here many times, haven't you?" "Yes ma'am." "You prefer blow jobs to hand jobs don't you?" "Oh my God, yes ma'am!" "By trannies, right?" "Yes ma'am!" Jack couldn't see any longer, but he could feel the gag being removed from his mouth and he spit the dripping semen away, saying, "No, please, no!" But someone held his nose so he couldn't breathe, and Number 30's penis went in immediately. A steady low moan emanated from somewhere deep in Jack's chest. It wasn't because of what was on his face or in his mouth; it was because he was aroused and hard. Instinctively he started to move his head forward and backward, using his tongue in ways that he knew would be enjoyed. After a few minutes Number 30 was close, so he put his hand behind Jack's head and thrust into him as far as he could go. Jack half groaned and gagged, and the vibrations from that caused Number 30 to fill jack's throat and mouth with cum. Although retching slightly, the streams entered him and did not return. Mistress Johanna looked on with extreme pleasure as she noticed a dark patch appear on Jackie's girdle at the end of his imprisoned penis. He had cum at the same time as Number 30. The penis was withdrawn, and Jack was left to be observed by all, especially the camera which zoomed in on his face, his breasts, and finally the wet spot on his girdle. Now Mistress Johanna soothed him by brushing his sweaty hair back, some of it already stuck together with solidified ejaculate. "It's okay, sweetie," she whispered, "I don't care if you're gay or straight. All you have to be for me is obedient. Is that clear now?" Jack was still secured to the floor and he was taking short breaths while keeping his head down and his eyes closed as if that could render him invisible. The erotic humiliation he was feeling was so intense and deep, and he wallowed in it, wanting more, but at the same time wanting none of it, a helpless and utterly confusing feeling. His restraints were but a small part of his bondage; he knew that now, so he answered Mistress Johanna, "Yes ma'am." She released him from his kneeling position but kept his hands inside the bondage mittens and locked them together behind his back. Then she led him back to his cell, removed his soiled panties and girdle and cleaned him up. There was no attempt to clean the mess on his face. "That's it for today Jackie. You've had enough. You can go without panties and girdle tonight so you can pee on the toilet. The cum stays on your face as a reminder, and your hands will remain bound for the night so you can't wash it off. I hope you learned something today. When we come for you in the morning, it's a new day. We'll do your fingernails and take measurements for your corsets and other clothes. Sleep well my dear slave." "Yes ma'am," he said, feeling strangely deflated, as if something had been taken from deep within him. But that empty space that had been created was already beginning to be refilled with something...he didn't know what, but it felt secure and good, and...comfortable. Jack heard the cell door close with a slight bang, and then he heard the thud of the outer door. He opened his eyes with some difficulty and stood up from the bed. Walking to the mirror over the sink, he looked at the horror of his face, caked with semen and sperm. He did a fake smile and his face cracked in places. Sitting on the toilet he peed and looked at his home. He had consented to this. It was like the old saying "he chased the girl until she caught him". He was here. She had him, and he already felt changed. Too soon, he thought, too soon. If he felt this way after one day, what would thirty more days do to him? Mistress Johanna knew. And suddenly he did too.