1 comments/ 20290 views/ 2 favorites Fourth Slave By: RubberBudcus I had been to this particular establishment before. I knew very well what they did and the women here were nearly all abducted. I knew that. What had brought me here today or rather on this night, was the loss of my slave. I had sold her when I got bored with her. I had a particular taste in women that required them to be both submissive and very slight in build. This last one who I had named Samantha, was both in spades. Slender and almost titless, she had kept me enthralled for nearly two years with a diet of sexual submission, a taste for abject humiliation and a way of winkling out and satisfying my deepest sexual desires. Samantha had even once got me cross dressing and had even indulged my taste for WAM. I still remember the session we had, both in lingerie with two dozen raw eggs smeared all over us. As always though, the first session was the best and repeats were not as good. I could sense towards the end that she was struggling to keep my interest and she was not terribly good as a maid or housekeeper. Anyway, I put her up for auction one night and she fetched a good enough price. I last saw her being fucked by two men neither of whom were her purchaser so it looked as though she was off to a life as a sex slave. She would probably enjoy that although she certainly didn't have sex with anyone else while I owned her. I would have known and I kept her padlocked up and sometimes caged when I was not there, just to make sure. Like most slaves, she was a bit inclined to go with the flow. I obviously knew nothing of her previous life before me and cared even less. She appealed to me as a sex slave and she talked her way into my life from a Slaveria interview when she had been all over me in a sexual way, dressed in a see through nightie and peignoir. I suppose I should explain. This establishment was called Slaveria and specialised in displaying women and very rarely, men for buyers to take on board as slaves. These slaves could be used purely for domestic duties or for sex or both. They had no choice. Most of them were abducted after due research. They had to be alone with no close family, down on their luck and not likely to be missed. They didn't have to be pretty, very few were, but they did have to be in goodish shape and still making an effort. There were some volunteers among them but you didn't normally know which were abducted and which weren't. The research was that comprehensive that the abduction was almost saving them from a fate that was unacceptable to them and worse than what they were going through in Slaveria. All responsibility for rent, bills, food and making a living were taken away from them and for the first week or so they were very pampered and looked after. All will tell you that, once the shock of the change had worn off and the pampering made them feel wanted and very aware of themselves, they tended to allow it to happen to them. What was on offer was a life without responsibility in return for devotion to a Master or Mistress who would treat them as a valuable asset that could make them money. They all signed a contarct agreeing to these terms so they were not really illegal. I don't know what would happen if the slave refused to sign or was insistent that they would no allow the sale to proceed. Slaveria sold all its slaves to clients such as me. Each slave came at a price that seemed based on the time they had been there. The longer they had been there, the more they cost up to a peak and after that, the price would decline. Nobody knew what happened to those that didn't sell and the shelf life was about one month and based on activity with buyer interest and / or interviews. The slaves knew about this but had little idea of time passing. Each slave could use whatever charms they had to attract buyer's interest and most succeeded in having some sort of gimmick that they used to attract the buyers. Obviously, they had to socialise at mealtimes so they became aware of how the system worked from earlier inductees and within a week newbies could see people disappearing either to a buyer or to Lord knows where. They just knew that they had a finite life with Slaveria. This focussed them enormously and most of them started researching all the ways that they could attract a buyer. Slaveria helped them in this by allowing them to have counselling on how best to present themselves and Slaveria would ensure that all the slaves were regularly updated on what was hot and selling. Those close to their shelf life were obviously given first choice of the hottest sales technique and replacing those who had been sold using such techniques. Thus Slaveria controlled to a great extent what the slaves were offering to the buyers. Slaveria charged fixed prices which were not aimed purely at the rich and they did ( and still do ) have a strict entry system for buyers to make sure that they understood that they were now responsible for another human being. They don't offer trade ins so if the slave proves unsatisfactory then they are either released ( very rare ) or sold at auction and the buyer returns to Slaveria. I suppose it is possible that slaves could be killed by owners by a combination of abuse and neglect but such a reputation would disbar you from buying again anywhere so was not advised. I myself was a respected buyer with Slaveria and had purchased three slaves over a ten year period and sold all three at auction. Slaveria did check all this and had to be convinced that you had done just that and not just killed them. The system seemed to work quite well but had its ups and downs and peaks and troughs. At any one time, Slaveria had a maximum of ten slaves for sale. When I arrived that night I was told they had seven in stock and two of those were Transvestites. I had bought a TV once and she was a good slave but the sex had never gelled for either of us and I sold her on after six months. So with Samantha at two years and the TV at 6 months you can see that to make ten years, one of the slaves lasted seven and a half years. This was Doreen who was so competent in the household department that the sex just got forgotten. It was almost like being married except that she always put in an effort to make sure I was looked after, meeting me at the door, taking my coat and boots, running a shower for me, making sure that I was warm, fed and comfy. She was always demurely dressed but always wore suspenders, stockings and good underwear. If I wanted sex, she was there but to be honest I just liked having her around as she looked after me so well. The sex was pretty average anyway and me being over 60 now, the sex had become less important. Doreen had looked after my visitors so well that eventually, one of them asked if I would sell her. The price he offered was so high that I couldn't really turn it down so Doreen went off to her new owner and seems quite happy when I visit. I only invested a part of what I got for Doreen in Samantha but that paid off in raunchy sex. What I really needed was a mixture of Doreen and Samantha but I was getting to the point where I truly believed that this was not possible. I still went to Slaveria that night though. It is strange how even now after all these years of unrestricted sex, when you have it on tap you get bored with it but take the opportunity away and the sap rises again even when older. Slaveria has ten booths that are like a small room and each and every occupant had a chance to display what she wanted to show you. I am fairly sure that Slaveria told each girl which buyers were expected and what they liked but in this case I had arrived almost unannounced and only been let in due to my long standing good reputation. All three of my slaves had spoken highly of me when asked. As I say, only seven rooms were in use and two transvestites so for me as I spoke, only five to look at. The booths are all along a corridor and each booth is glass fronted with a door into it. Each occupant had another access door at the back and I now knew that both the dormitory and the eating area were communal. The occupants were all expected to be in the display room for most of the night when most of the business was transacted. They could sleep and attend to other needs during the day and anything they needed such as cosmetics or clothing were brought in for them or ordered on the Internet. All of the slaves were quickly attuned to what was needed in order to be sold and very few dragged their feet. I am sure that they must have been fed happy pills of some sort as they all quickly fell into line and started displaying themselves with some verve. None of my previous three slaves were very forthcoming about their abduction or sales processing indoctrination but all were glad to have been sold to me from there. All three were well trained and good slaves straight from the box and consistent with it. In particular, Doreen and Samantha had been very happy to be slaves and were very willing to please me without ever once suggesting that they were unwilling in any way. In Doreen's case she had maintained her slave attitude for over seven years without once ever revealing anything about her real feelings on the matter. Even the TV was a good slave but it was me that decided that another man was not what I wanted as both the sex and the housekeeping would be strange to a TV or so I thought at the time. The TV was my first slave and I was younger then. I always kept an open mind about these things. This was a major benefit of Slaveria; you were not just looking at them or reading a CV, you were actively encouraged to speak to each slave and private rooms with all facilities are available for you to do that. Of course, it is the visual side that attracts you in the first place and it was bad etiquette to go and speak to a slave that was already engaged with another buyer. This could mean, on a busy night, all the slaves could be busy being interviewed and you almost had to form a queue with other buyers to speak to or interview a slave. It was this element of one on one competition that gave Slaveria the edge and allowed very average looking slaves a fair chance of being bought. If the slave presented to you well and was willing to converse with you and sell themselves as well as their body, one got a better idea of what they were about and whether they would suit you. This was making a 24/7 commitment on both sides and with no refunds or returns, it could prove expensive as an unloved and recently acquired slave always fetches less in auction. I was advised by the Slaveria receptionist that there was only one other buyer in tonight, that they were interviewing one girl as I arrived and that all six others were not engaged at all and no other buyers were expected that night. So with this in mind and not really that desperate to replace Samantha, I started along the corridor with a view to browsing rather than selecting. I must admit that my mind was wandering by Room 2 as Rooms 1 & 2 were empty. I looked at my information sheet given to me in reception and saw that Room 1 should have a female slave in it so that must be the one being interviewed. I was rarely interested in interviewees on the night as I always felt that I was not interested in some one else's cast off but due to Slaveria's strict code of ethics, you never knew if a slave had failed multiple times or not at all. You had no idea from the information sheet whether a slave was new or close to shelf date. Slaveria also discouraged visits by buyers more than once a month. Subtle pressure was there all the time but I didn't mind. This was my first visit in two years and it was obviously a quiet night anyway plus I was really browsing wasn't I? I was obviously musing all this as I wandered idly down the corridor so I have no idea what room number I was at but my attention was seriously grabbed by what I saw. This particular slave was spread-eagled on a St Andrew's cross which was tilted towards the window. The slave was wearing a full black rubber hood with no eye holes and only a large grommeted aperture over the mouth. Even so, one could see that this slave's breathing was somewhat restricted as the hood was rising and falling with each breath. I could see that the hood was fastened round the neck with a posture collar, also black and shiny and I am fairly sure that the band of leather buckled across the forehead was also fastened to an extension of the cross under the head. Both hands were in balled fists in bondage gloves and fastened tightly around the wrists and to the cross. I could see how tight they were and suspected that both hands were probably numb. I could see the slight movements made to try to relieve the discomfort. The slave was wearing a rubber bra and I could see that the naked skin around it and up the bare arms was glistening with either sweat or oil. My eyes tracked down to the midriff and the shiny corset that was obviously done up very tight indeed as I could see a ridge of flesh at the top of the underbust and you could almost hear the tension on the front busk. The slave was wearing a knee length transparent latex skirt that was elasticated around the corseted waist. This was stretched tightly across the splayed legs which were encased in transparent rubber stockings and I could see six black strap suspenders under the skirt and a black pair of knickers. The legs were so tightly strapped to the cross that you could see the straps biting in. High heels on the feet which had small padlocks on them. This slave was plainly very uncomfortable and was constantly squirming to relieve aches and pains. I looked at the sheet. Unusually there was some detail on there in that this slave offering was a transvestite and a volunteer. I was curious and really wanted to relieve this slave's discomfort. I also knew that it would be cruel to release her unless I meant to interview her so I walked on. I wasn't really looking at the others. I was filled with the image of this TV in deep rubber bondage and was curious as to how they would volunteer for this sort of thing. I had not seen this particular display or anything remotely like it when I had visited Slaveria before. Indeed, I got the impression that this sort of blatant exhibitionism was actively discouraged at Slaveria on the basis that such display was inappropriate to the idea of the slavery that Slaveria offered. There was nothing to stop you turning your slave into a rubber doll but that was your business after you had purchased the slave and was not relevant to whether you purchased a slave or not. Most of the slaves were female and dressed slightly provocatively and the occasional male tended to be a bit hunky with lots of six pack and muscle. The one or two wimps that I had seen on my other visits had not sold I think, as I had not seen one since or heard of any being sold at auction. I had always been intrigued by rubber clothing and I was attracted by what I had seen. My footsteps led me back to the room. Nothing had changed. A glistening transvestite in deep and tight bondage. Probably very hot under that hood and I wondered if she was wearing a wig. I checked the bra and could not see that the breasts were false. A really convincing turn out. No bulge in the panties either. I felt my heart skip. I felt the same about the first TV I had but the display back then was nowhere near as convincing as this one and it was the nudity that killed the passion. This TV was displaying a lot of skin already and was very feminine in stature and the tits were very real I could even see nipples outlined in the rubber bra which was quite a bit skimpier than others I had seen. I was curious and wanted a closer inspection. I didn't have to untie her and she was blind in that hood. I could ask her questions without untying her, couldn't I? I gingerly tried the handle and the door opened. All Slaveria's doors were silent normally but this one gave a muffled squeak. The slave stopped moving instantly and the hooded head cocked in my direction. She even stopped breathing for a moment, trying no doubt to listen and sense who had come in. Was it a buyer or just a Slaveria staff member? I heard her exhale as I closed the door. Again it squeaked but the slave was back to squirming again, trying to get comfortable but not succeeding judging by the soft grunts and moans that I heard. I also was surprised by the timbre of these noises. Not deep like a man but soft and high like a females but perhaps without that musical quality that most women develop during puberty. I felt quite highly charged and quite erotic if not blatantly turned on. This was a different experience for me. I was wary of TV's as the first one had been both a disappointment and expensive. TV's were in a minority and were not highly rated at slave auctions so any investment was either long term or speculative. I had had good if somewhat boring experience with Doreen and good if ultimately disappointing experience with Samantha. I truly felt that Samantha was not really a true submissive and was really just playing the part as it was easier than trying to go it alone. Bit of a bimbo as it turned out. I only made a modest return on Samantha whereas Doreen was a money spinner. Doreen always promised a lot of sex, sort of keeping you interested but not really delivering whereas Samantha delivered too much but tended to be a bit seedy. It was like living with an unsuccessful prostitute, always looking for the next john but settling for the easy life as a slave. Anyway, here I was standing next to this person, dressed in this curious material, stretched out on a St Andrew's cross with tight uncomfortable bondage and blind to any lookers or visitors. I wanted to reassure her that I was sympathetic to her plight and was impressed with her fortitude as I knew that she had to be put into this bondage by Slaveria staff and she would have a lot of say in how tight or uncomfortable she was and I guessed that, as a volunteer, she brought all this clothing with her. So to make her aware of me, I put my hand lightly on her rubber clad leg and ran it up over her skirt, listening to the rustle and faint squeak. I rested my hand on her thigh and squeezed gently then patted her and withdrew my hand. The effect was immediate. A soft sigh and a shudder and the squirming stopped. She whispered something so I said loudly, "What did you say?" and put my ear next to her mouth hole. "Thank you", she said quietly. Again that soft feminine voice with hints of bass. Very pleasant. Without further ado, I started running my hands over her body, as much to feel the rubber as to caress her and was rewarded with the same soft sighs and an absence of squirming. She shuddered as I caressed her thighs. Out of curiosity, I brushed her crotch and was surprised to find no trace of a bulge. I also caressed her breasts and, apart from them being cool to the touch, they too were very realistic to look at and in terms of fluidity to touch. They moved just like real breasts in their rubber prison. Indeed her bare skin was slightly oily to the touch but the aroma of hot rubber was there and assailed my nostrils. I also caressed her head and was sure that I felt a mass of hair under the rubber. Throughout this she sighed and when I touched anything sensitive, she shuddered and her breath came in short gasps as the rubber hood and mouthpiece rose and fell to her gasping. In the end it was obvious that she was really enjoying my touch but no bulge appeared at her crotch. "Look", I said,"if I release you it is because I feel bad about your discomfort and not because I wish to formally interview you or buy you. Is that clear?" She said 'yes' and a very slight nod accompanied this whisper muffled by the hood. I released the multiple straps holding her to the cross and, as she rose stiffly, I saw a rubber pump fall between her legs and saw an electric wire from the same region. So she was wearing some form of inflatable, vibrating dildo. I released her bondage gloves and watched as she spent the next few minutes attempting to regain circulation. Her hands were blue and quite cold and I could sense that certain parts of her body were in pain with returning circulation. I am fairly sure that Slaveria staff would be unhappy with the tightness of this bondage particularly as it would have to last all night. It was approaching midnight now and I knew she must have been in this bondage for at least two hours. Fourth Slave "Would you help me remove this hood please sir?" she said, more clearly this time. She was now sort of leaning on her bum on the cross with her legs straight and I could see her flexing her toes in her shoes to regain circulation in them. I approached her and leant across her, feeling her body heat. I unbuckled the neck and reached behind to feel a lacing. Fortunately, I recognised the feel of a double bow and with a slight lean forward I could unravel it. My chest was against her upper arm and her left breast and I felt her left hand circle my waist. It felt good and my heart skipped as the rubber skirt also brushed my trouser leg. Once the lacing was loose, I was able to grasp the hood. I felt her breath on my left arm as I eased the now loose but bulky hood forwards. I felt silky hair on my fingers and the hood slid off to reveal a tangle of lovely auburn hair. Her eye make up was badly smeared and she had obviously been crying with pain. Nevertheless the make up was expertly done but now very glazed and runny due to the heat build up in the hood. She had fine features though and our eyes met. I couldn't help but smile and she ruefully smiled back. "I must look a mess", she said and I saw her eyes seek out a mirror. Not finding one she craned around but it was plain that she did not yet have control of her legs and her hands were suffering as well. I sought out and pushed the pager button and within seconds a female Slaveria member of staff was in the room with us. "Can you take this slave to somewhere where she can redo her make up, please?", I instructed, "and make sure you help her as she is a bit pins and needles at the moment." "Yes of course, sir", said the Slaveria staff girl, "come along, you", this last to the slave who was still moving arms and legs to regain circulation. She leant heavily on the staff girl's broad shoulders ( I have noticed that Slaveria staff are always less attractive than the slaves are ) and tottered out of the back door. As she did so, I noticed a transparent blouse draped over a chair and picked it up. "Before you go", I said,"can you put this on before you come back and remove the dildo as well." I handed the latex garment to the slave who used her spare hand to take it and I saw her nod in agreement. "Of course, sir, I would love to." More of that slightly bassy feminine tone. I felt my heart skip again. I suppose I must have waited about fifteen minutes. During that time I read and re-read the sheet I had been given. Apart from the unusual information that she was a transvestite and a volunteer to slavery through Slaveria there was little clue as to who she was. No age or name at all and just a one line in description of needs as being a 'committed full time transvestite looking for a good lifelong home in return for all domestic and sexual duties'. It was telling that the sex was lumped under 'duties' rather than 'wants' or 'needs' or even the more sterile 'services'. I knew how carefully Slaveria helped their slaves offer themselves to buyers and how they helped them compile these sheets so that word was not picked lightly. I wonder what sexual duties she saw herself being asked for. The door opened and in walked the slave. Her hair and make up were immaculate and she was wearing the top as asked. I could plainly see her underwear and the shiny, tight corset under the translucent rubber. She looked an absolute picture, not at all slave like, more like a rubber fanatics wet dream. Once again my heart skipped. I just couldn't resist and went over to her and pecked her on the lips to feel her luscious full lips meet mine and transfer a tiny amount of her gloss and lipstick to my lips. I just had to lick my own lips and she saw me do that and smiled. With that, she took my hand for support and dropped to her knees and her head bowed. "Thank you, sir for releasing me and honouring me by your interest in me as a slave". More of that musical bassy voice. I didn't release her hand either and she didn't try to pull it away. At least the one I was holding was warm and quite delicate with long fingers and nails all clear varnished. "What is your name", I asked. "I have no name, sir", she replied, "and will take whatever name you give me. I do not wish to cloud my future with anything from the past, sir. At the moment sir, I am slave 7," she continued. "Very well slave 7 and how old are you?" I asked. A brief pause and then "I am 47 sir, I hope that is not too old for you, sir." This one is a bit gushy, I thought, a bit eager, perhaps close to her shelf date. " No that age is good, I am older than that anyway", I replied, "and I am aware of your desire for 'lifelong' slavery. So, no turning back then for either of us, is that what you want?" This last was a probe. These slaves knew the score. If their Master or Mistress tired of them they were toast. The whole thing was quite fragile for them. " I cannot turn back, sir", this said with eye contact, "but you are my Master. If you wish to dispose of me, I cannot object or show emotion about that. I serve who owns me. Only death releases me from slavery, sir, I know that. Sorry,sir I should not look at you without permission." Her head bowed as she realised her error although, for me it was not an error. I like to see character as it means that I am in charge of something that is valuable and making an effort to please me. Doreen was a past-master at this; serving but not servile. Of course I would not reveal this to slave 7 at this point. It was none of her business but at least she seemed to understand how permanent this was for her and the eye contact told me that she was quite sure about her path. Again I idly wondered about her shelf life. This too made both of us on edge, me not wishing to see a good potential slave wasted, literally in the American sense, and for her to miss the opportunity to serve me and survive. "Hmmm. OK slave 7, I see the word 'duty' is used in both the domestic sense and the sexual sense. Why do you use the word 'duty' with the word 'sex'. Can you explain that to me, why you used that word?" Another pause and this time I saw the head come up and her eyes met mine. She adjusted her kneel and I heard the rubber rustle. Again my heart skipped. Her eyes dropped again but I saw a glint in hers and it wasn't a hostile one, more one of respect that I had read her profile and noticed things on it. This girl had been interviewed before! "Well I think sir that I wanted to convey that, since I am not a real female, I would need to be careful to make sure that my owner found me both sexually attractive and willing so that is why I put the word 'duty' on there." Her eyes flicked back to mine. This girl was as much interviewing me as I was her. Once again my heart skipped. This girl was getting to me and I was having difficulty keeping my eyes off her. I was a bit wary of TV's as I have said but she didn't know that. Slaveria were just as coy about buyer's details as they were about slaves. I had obviously challenged my reasons for taking the first TV and where it had gone wrong but had been snowed by the subsequent acquisition of Doreen and then after her, the sexually charged Samantha. Certainly, after all that experience I was in a quandary as to which direction I really wanted to take now. It had been a very long time though since I had had this much heart skipping and I felt quite warm towards slave 7. She was ticking boxes. Our eyes met again and she must have seen what I was feeling. I saw the flash of warmth in hers before they dropped again. I decided to drop a stone in the pond. "So describe what sexual duties you expect to perform for me," I said and I saw a quick grimace pass across her face. I felt sure she knew I was testing her, probing her, making sure she was truly a slave in everything not just sexual favour. "Whatever sir desi........no wait, that is not what I want to say," she stopped and I could see she was gathering her thoughts. "It is my duty to be a sexual person for my Master. I must concentrate on discovering what he wants me to do, how he wants me to dress and what he wants me to say in order to be sexy for him, to be attractive for him. He will know what I can do for him physically and if he wants that because he finds me attractive then I am complete and have fulfilled my duty to him sexually." Then came something heartfelt, her tone changed and I heard the following words. " I know I am not a real woman, I am a man and my Master is not gay. I will need to be extra special and continuously so for my Master to want me and I will be extra careful to ensure that my Master is not challenged in any way. I am his slave and his pleasure is my only goal and I will dedicate my life to pleasing my Master in any way possible. I know this will not be easy but I have chosen this path and cannot go back, don't want to go back to what I was. I want to be bought by you Master as your slave so I can start to learn how to please you and you alone for as long as you want me." I heard the choke in the last sentence and felt the same too. "Stand up, slave 7," I said and she dutifully rose. "Look at me", I commanded and our eyes met. I moved forward and stroked her rubber costume. I walked round her and her head craned after me and met me as I walked round her caressing her rustling and squeaking rubber. As I reached the front again, still running my hands over her body, she sighed audibly almost a purr and then she looked at me and whispered "Please buy me Master, I want to be yours." " Put yourself against the cross again, slave 7 and I will bind you to it as you were when I came in. No hood though and keep your blouse on." She moved over to the cross, spread her legs and leant back. I slowly put the straps back on her and she watched me do it. I didn't make them as tight as they had been but she was well secured. Her eyes followed me as I walked to and fro. "Wait there" and with that I left to go into the office to ask how much slave 7 was fetching at the moment. A price was quoted and I knew that Slaveria prices were non negotiable from previous experience. I also knew that it was two years since my last purchase and I was not an idle browser I had no idea what the Slaveria pricing structure was. I did know that the price was only slightly more than I got for Samantha and I could afford it. I just had to clear this reluctance based on previous experience. I returned to slave 7 with determined tread. She looked at me impassively spread-eagled as she was, her rubber skirt stretched again, the blouse sticking to her arms. She looked vulnerable. "Look", I said brusquely, "I have reservations about you and whether you are really what I want. I have had a TV before and that didn't work so, this is what I am going to do. I am going to release you and we are going to an interview room. Whilst we are there you will cease to address me as 'sir' or 'Master'. My name is David and I want to know your femme name and your real given first name please." I quickly undid the straps and after a brief rub and a quick stretch of the legs she looked at me and said "Thank you David for returning and my given name is Brian and my femme name was Briony but I would want to be renamed by you if you buy me." Then she looked straight into my eyes and said, "I am serious about this, I think you and I have connected and I want you to own me and I will be your slave for life." I saw her eyes moisten. "I really have nothing to go back to, my life as Brian is over and although Briony is a success story I want to break away from the TV world. I am inexperienced with men but I know what I want to be and this is why I volunteered for here." We reached an interview room as she finished speaking and I held the door and ushered her in. I had asked Slaveria for a bottle of wine and two glasses and they were on a coffee table. "Sit down Brian", I said and I saw the momentary shock cross her face. I addressed her as such deliberately. I had to flush out all her secrets and corners. I had to make sure that she didn't bring issues or bags and baggage with her if I purchased her. "What are you running from, Brian," I asked and once again I saw her wince. She took a large gulp from her wine. "As I said, my life as Brian and no wisecracks about the Life of Brian please, I have heard them all, is really behind me now. I was married once and as you have discovered I have a very small penis. She knew this when we married but she was overweight and no oil painting and had, she said, never been with a man anyway so had no comparison. The sex was awful but neither of us knew why. I could come OK but she never did. Anyway, she did get pregnant but because she was so overweight she miscarried and was diagnosed with a dodgy womb and had a hysterectomy so that was that." "We carried on more out of habit than love and then she started dressing up a lot more and then lost a lot of weight. I just knew that she was getting her sex elsewhere and she used to stop out late at night saying that she had to work late. She certainly was earning a great deal but then so was I. Eventually I got to work from home so I had quite a bit of time to myself. Then I found that the wife and I were roughly the same size so her clothes fitted me and she had recently invested a lot in brand new lingerie and sexy outerwear." " It all started with her leaving a new dress she had bought hanging on the wardrobe and, as one does, I just idly wondered what it would feel like to wear such a fabulous dress. I knew she was going to be gone all day and most of the night as well so I had plenty of spare time. My home work project was slightly ahead of schedule so I was a bit spare that day. I had stayed in bed until she went to work and was sipping tea looking at this beautiful red dress on its hangar. I knew she wasn't going to wear it today or tonight so what would be the hurt for me to see what it looked like on. She had long since stopped taking any notice in what I thought anyway. I had a shower and shave and towelled myself off. Once I was completely dry I took the dress with shivering fingers and stepped into it as I had seen her do many times. It slid up over my hips really easily and felt really flimsy against my skin. I put my arms through the armholes and reached behind me for the zip. The feeling as that zip ran smoothly up my back and the dress material hugged my naked skin was indescribable and the sheer thrill was mind blowing. I even walked about feeling the dress move with me and cling to my legs. Then I saw myself in the mirror." "Obviously, the feelings were not matched by what I saw. My body hair protruding from the cleavage. The slackness of the material around the bust, my leg hair and my tatty white feet were a real downer. Nevertheless the feelings were still there as long as I didn't look in the mirror or allow anyone to see me to mirror in their eyes what I really looked like. So without further ado and still in the dress, I logged onto the Internet and Googled up a few relevant transvestite sites. Some of these guys looked really good dressed and I absorbed all that I read. I am quite slim so that was not an issue but it was plain that the body hair would have to go. I wondered whether the wife would even notice. It became clear that I needed to try some lingerie so I divested the dress and hung it carefully where I had found it and went raiding the wife's lingerie drawer. I was very careful not to disturb too much and went looking at the bottom of the drawer by lifting up the top layer. In there I found all sorts of matching sets and, in particular a red satin set of bra knickers and suspenders. I also found a red pair of nylons still in their unopened packet and the sales slip still attached showing they were about a year old. Safe enough not to be missed, I thought." "It took me ages to put all this stuff on as I was unfamiliar with actually doing it but had watched the missus often enough to try and guess what to do. It all fitted me perfectly except for the gaping bra. I had spotted an article on the Internet about that and a pair of ankle socks and a pair of knee high socks were carefully rolled into quite acceptable breasts." "Once the lingerie was on and adjusted to fit I re-donned the dress. This time it was explosive. My little dick became uncontrollable and as it slid against the satin I was sure I was going to cum and ruin the new dress. I managed to prevent that and sure enough my penis went back to being small so I tucked it between my legs and the tight panties held it there." "I was in heaven and Briony was born that very day." "I was determined to be the very best cross dresser as I felt so powerful dressed that I just knew that I wanted this. I wasn't even bothered about the wife finding out but I baulked at the idea of showing her, at least until I was proficient. I was also sure that I had to have my own stuff as filching hers was not an option. I made a note of all the sizes and started ordering on the Internet." "Then fate intervened. A few days after this, my wife and her boss were killed outright in a terrible car crash. I was numbed and Briony took a back seat whilst I absorbed the shock. Although we were drifting apart, I would not have wished such a terrible end on her. I did wonder if the boss was also her new lover but it was now just speculation anyway. I organised the funeral and there was no family, only friends and work colleagues of hers. It highlighted just how alone I had become since opting to work from home. All my work colleagues had drifted off so I had no-one to invite. Both of us were single children and our respective parents were now dead. The life insurance dutifully paid out. I had a year's wages from her firm and I had taken out a 'loss of spouse' policy on both of us that was really a whole life policy so cover expired when we were 60 and only paid out on the death of one of us before that age. It was quite cheap and the payout was huge and I became pretty wealthy overnight. When I came home from the funeral I think I felt that a door had closed on a part of my life and that I was now facing a new and very different future. I shaved completely, applied glue to my newly acquired prosthetic breasts and dressed as Briony straight away and stayed up most of the night perfecting her make up. Later, in the early hours, I donned a beautiful nightie and went to bed. I slept very little. In the morning, I resigned my job and sent in the completed work that I had. I spent all day as Briony and felt quite calm but still cried a lot as Brian's identity slowly slipped away with my grief. I don't think Brian would have grieved as much as Briony did." " I had a couple of phone calls from women who worked with my wife and I think they were fishing for a relationship as all of them asked me out for a drink. I politely declined. In all cases I took the calls as Briony." "I did however make contact with and invite round a couple of TV's that I met on the Internet in TV chat rooms and both of them were complimentary about Briony and I did actually venture out with them on TV nights out. I did so enjoy the glamour of it and quickly became very femme in my actions by watching the best of them and copying them. I also had some professional voice coaching." "At the same time I was warned by one almost non descript TV in one of the bars, not to become a drag act. I couldn't see what she meant and I invited her round to the house to show me. We delved into my late wife's wardrobe and she re-dressed me in tights and plain skirts and tops and less flashy jewellery. Then we both climbed into a taxi and went to Tescos to shop for food and toiletries. Nobody turned an eye and it was perfectly normal except for the men eyeing the pair of us but not in a salacious way. It actually felt normal and I think Brian finally 'died' that day. The other TV and I became firm friends, Elisabeth is her name and I learned a lot about blending in from her." Fourth Slave "Because of my wife's death, I inherited a huge wardrobe of clothes both glamorous and ordinary so that I could become Briony full time and feel feminine 24 hours a day. It all felt completely natural and with some help from Elisabeth I learned about beauty salons and I found one that I could trust with my secret and went there at least once a week for nails hair and skin treatment. The girls there were really helpful and gave me oceans of girly advice. I always felt good after being there." "I went on a continuous diet and started using moisturisers all over my body after shaving and my skin became silky smooth. I spent hours in the bathroom and I think that my previous focus on earning, at which I was successful, perhaps more than my marriage as a man had been, was completely diverted to being successful as Briony. I wanted the world to see me as Briony and I had both the time, money and the opportunity so I immersed myself in my transition. Indeed I consulted the medical profession about gender change and it was confirmed that if I wished to, I was a suitable candidate for surgery. I decided against that but did indulge in some cosmetic surgery on my face to make my lips fuller and my nose more feminine. I also had liposuction transplants in my bum and started taking small doses of female hormones to render my penis inoperative as a sex organ." "Of course, there comes a time when you wonder if all this newness and wonderment at being feminine can be shared with anyone other than other TV's. At the time I had little desire for men but came to love the attention that I did receive and also became very aware that how one dressed could affect that very easily and mostly in a negative way. I also became aware of the cost of maintaining the femme regime, doubly so in my case as I had a lot of body hair to deal with. In the end, I submitted myself to a long term programme of laser electrolysis and removed all bar a small patch of pubic hair. It was painful but well worth it as I no longer had stubble. My hair did grow but was never really full enough so I invested in two identical wigs that cost a fortune for everyday wear and a selection of a few slightly cheaper ones for ringing the changes according to my mood." "At this time, sex was furthest from my mind but I never failed to thrill to the feel of good underwear and the feeling of being seen and accepted in normal life as a woman. The feel of a delicious nightie was also a beautiful experience and I frequently slept in suspenders and stockings as well as a nightie and I greatly expanded my collection of nightwear and delighted in standing at my wardrobe in just suspenders, stockings and heels selecting my night wear. Delicious! Strangely, I didn't miss the erections and ejaculations and now never played with my penis or gained any sexual pleasure from it." "I became proficient in domestic duties and delighted, as I never had as a man, in tidying and dusting and I frequently experimented in the kitchen and had TV's round to dinner parties. Life was good but still that gnawing thought about what and why I was being Briony. I did try being chatted up by men and enjoyed that but didn't really want to have sex with them. The same applied to other TV's but very few of them were full time women and those that were were outrageously camp for my taste and the men that professed to be admirers of TV's were all less than attractive to me and all were furtive, married and sex based." "Then I spotted a profile on TVChix under the name Budcus. A rubber clad Dominant who specialised in BDSM activity with TV's. I was intrigued. I contacted him through the messaging service and was impressed by his polite and assertive manner so after some correspondence I agreed to visit. He told me about rubber and directed me to a couple of sites to show what he liked his dates to wear if they wanted to. Without further ado I invested in what you see here although the hood was a later addition and I arrived at Budcus' flat and changed from my normal day wear to what you see I have on now." "The session with Budcus was an eye opener for me. I felt so submissive in bondage and so thrilled by my vulnerability that my lower regions and my limp little penis were washed with waves of pleasure. As he caned me, carefully and almost lovingly I am sure that I had a female type orgasm. I spent hours in bondage and was uncomfortable for some of it but he never did anything to make me feel cheap or less than feminine. Indeed his very maleness was a turn on and when he presented his dick to me I was pleased to service it with my mouth. I learned a lot about myself that day and went home in a daze. Only when I came to my front door did I realise that I was still wearing all this rubber." "I thanked Budcus for the experience and realised that, for Briony to be complete, she needed to be more submissive and submerge herself permanently in her psyche, then she would be truly happy. It seemed that deep with Brian there had been a desire to be servile and submissive that had resulted in Briony and that Briony's destiny lay in being someone's servant or even slave." "I chatted about this with Budcus but he was obviously unable to help me very much as he didn't take full time slaves and was of the opinion that no-one did and that slavery such as I was suggesting was merely pie in the sky in modern days since we were all programmed to be and act independently and that being a slave was not a viable option." "I carefully searched the Internet and that is how I found Slaveria. I sold my house and put all the money in a trust fund that pays a modest return, put all my clothes in storage and signed up as a voluntary slave candidate here as you see me now. These are all the clothes I have here and I dress in them every day and wear a satin nightie when I sleep." "So that is it. That is how I come to be sitting before you David, offering myself as your slave and knowing that I cannot turn back and that even Briony is ceasing to exist. I am now slave 7 and will remain so until I am renamed by my owner or I die." A long silence ensued as I digested all that I had heard. I did idly wonder whether it was all a story and that it had been told and perhaps changed lots of times but somehow I doubted it. I had felt throughout that I was speaking to my intellectual equal and that this TV had suffered a lot as an unconvincing man and as a very convincing TV but unable to make that leap to being a biological woman. I spoke for the first time since slave 7 had started her story. "Where do I fit into all this and why me? What do you want from me?" "I want you to be pleased with me," she said, "I will strive to make your life a pleasure as that will please me. To do that will make me feel complete. It will enable me to concentrate on pleasing you if I know that you own me, that I have no choice. The feminine side of me wants that but I must confess that I am confused about the sex. I want you to own me so that I can explore that side of me with you, so that I have no choice in it but can see from your demeanour that sex is not what you are really looking for. Am I right, David?" I nodded quietly. This one was different. Offering sexual favour but not necessarily wanting to be subjected to sex with a man. This offered, for me and for the first time, an intellectual challenge. I was intrigued. "So what happens if it doesn't work, Brian," another wince, "I will lose money, won't I?" A pause and then she spoke "I am that sure about this that if it does not work out for you and you sell me to another, I will indemnify you against your loss." That clinched it for me I think. I returned Briony to room 7 and insisted on securing her to the St Andrew's Cross. I then looked at her and said, "I will need to think about this for a few days," I saw her smile fade and her eyes go dull, "and if you are re-hooded then I have gone home for the night." "Yes, sir" she whispered and her head drooped. I left her there and went to the office. Signed the paperwork and paid for her. I instructed the staff to re-hood slave 7 and then to pack her belongings. I went for a coffee in the lounge and it was nearly an hour before I emerged. The staff nodded to me and one of them whispered that slave 7 was very upset and was weeping openly as she was put back into deep bondage. She obviously thought I had changed my mind. Sometimes it can pay to be cruel. Slave 7 had told me much about herself and her desires, poured her heart to me and I had seemingly rejected that. Above all though, it was her obvious intellect and her determination to succeed both as Brian and then Briony and then as a slave that had impressed me. I was really looking forward to having her. I decided to keep her on edge for a bit longer. I asked the Slaveria staff to put her in handcuffs and leg irons in my car boot and to keep the hood on so she could not see and I gave them my keys so they could do that. Slave 7 told me later that she was convinced that she was being terminated and was resigned to her fate. I drove home in silence so that slave 7 had no clues and equally lifted her out at the other end in silence. I undid her hood and slid it off her as she lay quietly on my garage floor. Her face was a mess and it was obvious that she had been crying a lot. "Shush, slave 7 it is over. I have bought you. I own you now. You are my slave until death do us part." I caressed her cheek and she opened her eyes and saw me looking down at her. Realisation dawned on her and she let out a deep sigh. "Ooooohhh, thank God, thank God," she said "thank you, David, you will not regret it." A look of alarm crossed her ravaged face, "I am so sorry sir, it won't happen again, you are sir not Dav....Oh god, I am sorry...!!" I laughed and bent to stroke her cheek. "It is OK Briony, we will work it out. It was cruel of me to do what I did but I wanted to have you destroyed emotionally, just to see if I could. C'mon, let us get you indoors and re-assembled." So began life with slave number four and I must say that four years on it has become a very good owner and slave arrangement. Within a week we had arranged for her stored clothes to be delivered and she started dressing as my maid or housekeeper or companion straight away. She took over managing my household and went shopping as needed without any help from me. I quickly gave her the spare keys to my car and she was free to come and go subject only to my absence. She was always well dressed and always wore suspenders and stockings in my presence or at least when she was serving me and a corset almost always. I would frequently tighten these corsets and she became quite feminine shaped as a result. I sometimes challenged her to remain in lingerie when she was serving me or doing the housework and she never once demurred, indeed I think she enjoyed it. We laughed a lot and sometimes we would discuss something that affected us or a subject that interested us both although she would always kneel to one side of my chair. I didn't have to instruct her much about anything, she seemed well tuned to being very attentive of me and subservient. Once I was watching TV and a sex programme came on. Briony was still kneeling next to me and she saw that something was turning me on. Without any hesitation she shifted her position and I felt her hands gently freeing my cock from my trousers. Our eyes met and I saw acceptance and real warmth in hers. Her head dropped and her lips encased my cock. Her free hand undid her blouse and the skimpy black bra that had been visible through her blouse all evening came into plain view. Her very realistic prosthetic breasts swayed as she serviced my cock. She was really good and took her time as my cock grew to her mouth. I could tell that she wanted to do this and that I wanted her to as well. I came quite quickly and she swallowed it as she withdrew. Then uncharacteristically, she reached round the back of my legs and held me close to her and lay her head on my thigh watching my cock shrink. She did that for about a minute and then released me and resumed her kneeling position with hands in lap and the blouse still agape. "Are you OK?" This from me. "Yes David, I am. Very much so," she replied. I reached over and caressed her cheek and she inclined her head and sighed gently with her eyes closed. I invited her to my bed that night and we slept soundly entwined in each others arms. She wore a nightie over her suspenders, stockings and a pair of knickers. In the morning she was up before me and brought me tea as she prepared breakfast for me. We started kissing as we parted company and as we met in the evening and she never once let her standards slip or suggested anything sexual. Very much owner/slave as normal but we seemed more intimate and we were always touching and kissing although rarely more than a peck. We were close but not in love. I had always surfed the Internet for porn and I decided to look up this Budcus chappy on TVChix. Sure enough he seemed to be having a lot of fun and his Flikr account was full of TV's undergoing BDSM activity. I quietly started to accumulate bondage gear. Obviously, Briony was at home to take the parcels and must have wondered what I was doing but as a slave, was unable to ask and not allowed to open anything although what I would have done if she had is a matter for conjecture. I also visited Budcus and he showed me what he did to the TV's and taught me much as to how to use both bondage gear and canes and paddles. He also remembered Briony and asked after her. Nice chap but I couldn't see how he had affected Briony so much. He smiled when I said that and said that I ought to dress and know what Briony knew. I wondered at that as I drove home. I also wondered what Briony would do if I did dress but then she was my slave, she had to please me. If I said I wanted to dress as a a woman then she had to go along with that. Once I had enough bondage gear I would regularly apply it to Briony and I found that she would become very submissive when bound or handcuffed. I also found that she was considerably hampered by any bondage gear so that she was less able to do domestic duties. A bit of a Mexican stand off but I did like her submissiveness and was sometimes prepared to trade that for her domestic duties. Indeed it became a way of giving her a rest from that part of her slavery and sometimes I would bind her immovably and painfully so I could hear and see her crying with pain as I saw to my own food and drink. She never complained and began to wear her rubber again quite a lot. I took this as a sign that she was feeling slutty rather than a smart tart as she usually was. When she was thus attired I would frequently cane her for being so forward and she was denied the chance to discuss issues or just be my GF for a few hours. I think she was also pacing herself and remaining a slave rather than trying to advance herself as a person and be closer to me. I found it intriguing and a real spur in that, when I came home, I would never know what she had planned for herself that evening and she would quite frequently change during the evening. I was fairly sure that she dressed in a maid's uniform during the day and she purchased all her own clothes and went to beauty salons at least once a week. I never once gave her any money. One evening I came home and Briony was her usual kind and attentive self but I sensed that she was a little nervous about something. We had become that close that we could read one another's moods but I feel that she was better at it than I. Thus it was unusual to say the least that I had seen this nervousness in her. Anyway, meal over and with the radio on I was enjoying my coffee, still sat at table listening to Briony in the kitchen clearing away all the dishes. I drank slowly as I was sure that she wanted to speak to me. In other circumstances we had agreed to formally suspend our Master/slave relationship and call each other by our names although I had long ago stopped using Brian. We had never got round to changing her name from Briony. Sure enough, the clattering stopped and I heard her heels clicking towards me and she promptly knelt at my side and her hands dropped into her lap. I did notice that she was closer to me than normal. "May I have permission to speak, sir?" came the request I was expecting. "Yes, Briony, you may and you may address me as David as well. What is on your mind? Look at me!" This last a command. Our eyes met and I could see that she was struggling with something. This made me slightly uneasy as this was the first time that she had started a conversation in this way since the Slaveria interview room. It seemed unnatural and I wondered what was up. Perhaps she wanted out of the arrangement. "David, I want to ask a personal question of you. I am really happy to be your slave but I can see that you don't really desire me. I hope I please you." So, there it was. Once again I had allowed the sexual side to ebb away as I had got comfortable with Briony. Once again my own sexuality was getting in the way. I had already anticipated this and had an answer ready. "You do please me Briony and I have been expecting this for some time, you wanting to talk about it. I was assuming that you being a biological male would make it easier for you to understand why I didn't apparently fancy you sexually or demand sexual service from you. Let us go to the sofa and I will try to explain what it is I really want or at least try out to see if it helps me." She rose as did I and we sat together on the sofa. I could see the outline of her suspenders through her skirt and put my hand on her leg, partly to re-assure her and partly from relief that we had started to discuss the matter. "I think I have, yet again, allowed our arrangement to descend into domestic bliss with an erotic edge but, of course, without feelings, that edge gets blunted and one seeks ever greater stimulus to make the edge sharp again. I am scared to go too far with you sexually, Briony as I am afraid that I will fail and that that will make you think less of me as a result." I paused for breath and felt her leg move slightly under my hand. She wanted to hear more. "So what I want you to do is to dig deep into your heart and mind and try to remove any barriers between us so that we can finally enjoy each other in bed as well as out of it." I turned and saw her enigmatic smile. Again the leg moved slightly. "This has to remain our secret. I am supposed to be your Master and, in this case, I am suggesting that we become equal just so that I can gain control of my sexuality again." "Yes," I added "I do sometimes desire you but I am scared to start anything as I am scared that I will be unable to finish and be seen as less than a man by you." At that I felt her hand cover mine. "I understand, David," replied Briony, "and thank you for telling me. Basically, you want me to take charge of your sex life and for me to be a sex slave with no chance of any pleasure for me? Am I right? Before you answer that, be assured that I would really love to do this for you. You are my Master and Owner and I really love being your slave. Apart from the pleasure of a couple of blow jobs, I have yet to fulfil my duty to you as a sex object. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. I have observed you carefully over some years now and I am confident that I can do this but, and this is a big but, you will have to trust me. Rest assured that what transpires between us will remain in this house and will not be discussed away from here. I have some plans for us focussed on you. Do you want notice of any activity or will you allow me to surprise you?" I looked at her. Her face was relaxed as I had ever seen it and I wondered how long she had been planning this conversation.