The paperwork was in his hands. He didn’t know if he could hold them without the paper rustling, considering how much he shook, but it was done. Everything she requested, he did, which included divulging some of the most personal, scary, intense things he’d done, wanted to do, or was utterly terrified might happen to him. They were on the papers in front of him, and he was about to deliver them to the woman that probably would use every single last word against him.  It was her way that she gave him a test, so that he didn’t hide anything from her. She said that he was going to be hers, but he had to make sure he had no reservations, and that meant he had to give up everything to her, at least, everything that occupied his brain whenever he crossed the threshold to her dungeon.

If entering the community was hard for him, finding someone that actually wanted him, wanted to dominate and control him was even harder. He knew he wasn’t all that attractive, ‘non-descript’ probably fit him the best. At a touch less than 6 feet, packing probably a dozen or so pounds extra on his frame, and with rather ordinary features, there was nothing striking about him, nothing that screamed out for attention. For the most part, when he first started getting involved with the local community he spent his time at the outskirts. He tried being inconspicuous, and he made sure he was polite, friendly, and above all not creepy. Even then, it took quite a long while before he was accepted, and made friends among the others that went to the various events and parties. He still missed something though; and it took a while before he got any clue what it was.

It started with a demonstration, more of a class really. They taught proper and safe ways to use different kinds of impact toys on a partner. When they asked for volunteers, he actually found his hand in the air, though he didn’t know why. He went up front; when they instructed him that he had to take off his shirt he actually trembled somewhat. He was not proud of his body, and even that amount of exposure made him nervous. He braced himself against the cross; when they fastened the cuffs around his wrists, the trembling lessened. They clamped the cuffs to the rings, which locked him in place, and the shaking nearly vanished. The kiss of the leather landed across his back, and he knew what he missed. The pain burned across his back, and ached in his muscles, but all he felt inside was relief. He barely even registered the rest of the lesson. All he knew was the impacts across the back, and the way his mind soared, drifted, and finally came back to Earth as they brought him from the cross, and sat him to one side, with water, and a blanket. He never considered being a bottom before…but it was a foregone conclusion that he needed someone to take him.

It was not that simple for him though, he didn’t realize all the ways that he could serve, submit, or bottom to another. Even with all his watching from the sides, all the terminology confused him, and he couldn’t place his finger on whether it was the pain, or the control that sent him away. He watched others, and approached others, but again, he was not exceptional, he ended up refused, rejected, sent away more often than not, but sometimes he would have the chance to experience something new. He learned about submission, control, and pain. He spent his birthday on his knees licking the boots of a woman who thought it was cute to take submissive men and push them to see how far she could humiliate them.  She was cruel to be cruel, within a month, the community saw her for what she was, and she did not show up any longer.

He drifted as he developed a stronger craving, the need to serve. The community accepted him in time, and he learned the pleasure from the lines of fire drawn by single tails, and the flush of pride from serving a mistress that needed some help for the evening serving drinks, food or when he offered personal services. He even learned that humiliation is not the end of the world, a blush would not kill, even when it seemed like the worst thing in the world.  In some ways it was not enough, he did not want the scenes to end. They were fun, but random, and almost never the same twice, and again the dissatisfaction built, and he felt something missing.

She had been a member of the community much  longer then he, and of course he noticed her, but what he didn’t know is that she noticed him as well. She saw him develop, and saw him offer service and his pain to any that he thought might want it. He didn’t even dream of approaching her though, she seemed unknowable and untouchable. She was a beauty, she stayed perfectly groomed, and anyone would have died for her nearly painted-on outfits of leather, lace, and silk. It didn’t matter what she truly looked like, because her presence alone commanded the room, not to mention there was the slave she always kept by her side when she was at a dungeon.

He had no idea she watched him, no idea she viewed him as a fruit that waited to ripen. He had no clue until one evening when he was cleaning one of the crosses between scenes, to help a couple that went off to recover. That’s when she glided up behind him and he heard in his ear,

“You spend so much time caring for that cross; perhaps you would be interested in spending more time on it?”

He did not remember much after that. Just her touch, the touch of toys he could barely imagine, and being stretched to his endurance limits. She pushed him, destroyed his body, worked him to the ground and then brought him up again until he no longer rose…and then she just kept right on going. When he was on the ground, and could not do more than groan in pain she leant in and whispered in his ear,

“If you wish to serve me, bring me your secrets, all of them, every detail you hide about your cravings for service. Then you will be ready for me.”

She left him then, but her slave cared for him and made sure he recovered from the aftereffects of the scene. He finished that night his body aching and worn, but his brain and heart fought inside him.

So now; the paper rattled, he stood in front of a doorstep that he was not sure he could enter, and he debated one last time. Was this his relief, was this his need…

He stepped up to the door.

Frieda tottered across the tile floor of her kitchen, delicately balancing the coffee service as she did so. It was difficult to manage the heavy load while wearing high heels and shackles, but her Sir had added food service to her training this week, and so Frieda was determined to do her best. Every step she took without spilling a drop of coffee or creamer made her stand straighter and carry herself with more confidence and poise. As Frieda relaxed into her role, her Sir smiled patiently at her from his seat at the table, and beckoned her closer with one finger.

Hurrying her steps just a bit, Frieda placed the tray down on the table and poured her Sir’s coffee just the way he liked it, two sugars and just a touch of cream. As he took the cup from her hand, he pointed at his feet, where a small pillow indicated her place until he let her up to refill his mug. Sinking to her knees as gracefully as she could, Frieda held her hands together in the small of her back, and knelt as straight as she could manage. Her posture had slipped the previous morning, and he’d had to reinforce his lessons with a switch from the backyard, so she did her best to hold as still as possible.

They had been living together for about four years, but her training had only really started a few months ago, after she had stumbled across a few of the more interesting magazines he read from time to time. Frieda had been intrigued by the images of lightly clothed women and men wearing black latex and leather, with collars and cuffs accenting the joy on their faces as they worshipped their Masters and Mistresses. Their dynamic had always been fairly balanced, but recently losing her job meant that Frieda was at loose ends, and had been acting a bit more petulant as a result. They weren’t lacking for resources, so they agreed to explore her fantasies with his knowledge of high protocol, and see if that could provide her with the balance she so desperately needed.

With a set list of tasks to accomplish each day, and a solid reward and punishment system in place, Frieda had had much less desire to act out, and had been genuinely happier even as she lost control of her daily life. The first task had been to give up her credit and ATM cards, meaning that she had to use the money she was given each week for household expenses, and for anything else she wanted to buy, even as small as a cup of coffee, she had to ask for permission first. She wasted less time shopping, and was proud of her ability to resist the temptation of the “one day only” sales which had caused her trouble in the past.

Not all the changes to their routine required major alterations to their daily life, however. Frieda was now only allowed to wear high heels at home, and needed to sit below her Sir when both of them were seated. She could still say no to things that frightened or pushed her too hard, but each time she did so, her Sir made her think about why she refused. He also had her write a scenario where she would consent to the thing that had made her say no, which he might or might not choose to use against her in the future.

Most of their conversations had revolved around the timing of and change in her attitude, and whether they would keep their relationship at home, or eventually take it out to a club or even just covertly in public. Frieda wore a consideration bracelet with his first initial on it at all times, but only wore a leather collar for scenes where he wanted to immobilize her neck. They’d talked about getting a subtle piece of jewelry that would double as a collar once they’d gotten to that stage of trust and accomplishment, but hadn’t seriously contemplated it at this early stage. Some of his friends collared their submissives on the first day of their training, but that seemed like a waste of resources to both of them, and the way they were doing it made the collar actually mean something more than just a promise.

It wasn’t just about what was hot for him, either, it was about the giving up of control in a way that kept them both happy. They had daily rituals, like making and serving coffee, that reaffirmed their commitment to each other, and checked in with each other weekly to honestly verify if they wanted to continue the dynamic. So far they were both happy and fulfilled, and both had grown as people, but only time would tell if things remained that way.

Freddy had been pushing people her whole life. Pushing her parents to let her do things. Pushing her friends to do things her way, or on her timeline. Pushing her boyfriends to do what she wanted around the house and in bed. Pushing people in conversations and online interactions, until one day she looked around and realized that she’d managed to push everyone fairly far away.

At that moment, she realized that she’d been pushing so hard and for so long that she couldn’t remember what it felt like to have anyone try to push back. She might have had a strong personality, but it would have been a nice feeling if people had bothered to stick up for themselves once in a while. Always being the one to make the decisions, and having to have the last word had started to wear on her years ago, but she hadn’t realized exactly WHY she was so annoyed with everyone around her until just then.

The morning after her epiphany, Freddy went to work determined to change how she interacted with everyone, only to find that her friends and coworkers had become so used to her being the one to motivate and push everyone to do work that they kept nudging her back into her old role with subtle reminders and negatively reinforcing behaviors.

Freddy thought about it for a few days, and realized that she could handle being the pushy one in her daily life if she could trade off with someone once she got home. But how to find such a person? One who would respect her ability in the boardroom, and yet be able to take charge in the bedroom. She thought about trying to meet someone online, but she had no idea where to start, and the thought of accidentally hooking up with one of her colleagues or extended family members was appalling to her.

She’d heard of a club on the outskirts of town, where exciting and unsavory things happened, and she knew they had a website with the schedule available online, so she looked it up, and discovered it was a members-only private club where people went to meet others who were interested in BDSM and who were unable to exercise their proclivities in their home for whatever reason.

Freddy went to the next New Member Orientation, a bit apprehensive about who she would meet, and what kind of environment she would be stepping into. However, she had a warm welcome to the small group of newcomers, some with more experience in the lifestyle, and some as new to their explorations as she was. After a tour of the facility, they settled down for a brief run-through of the rules of the organization and a bit of discussion about how each person identified themselves, and what they hoped to gain through the club.

Freddy found herself blushing and somewhat unable to articulate her desires, although she was able to mention that she was hoping to explore her submissive side, and that here interests lay primarily in the discretion of her partners and in finding those who would respect her intelligence. Her statements were met with friendly smiles, all around, and the instructor said, “Well, if you DO join, I have a few people I could introduce you to at the next play party…”

There was no question in Carol’s mind by the end of dinner. She’d gone this far, and she’d already blown him, so why not go all the way and let him take her into his home? He’d been in her private space already, and hadn’t scared her off the encounter with his attitude after successfully getting her to go down on him, so what else did she have to lose? She still had her keys and cell phone, and enough cash on her to get a taxi to take her home from anywhere nearby, even with the long drive to get to the restaurant. It only lacked his asking her to choose, and her making her decision plain for things to proceed to the next level.

“Have made your choice?” asked George quietly, after a discrete shuffling of cards and slips of paper which appeared to take care of payment. Carol nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “And you have chosen…?” prompted George with a hint of impatience.

“I will go back with you to your place,” Carol replied quickly.

George looked closely at her face, searching her eyes as if to see whether she had any regret about her decision. Seeing nothing but determination, he smiled, and set his napkin aside, standing slowly from his place, and strode around the table to help her stand up and gather her coat.

Drifting again, Carol left the restaurant, entering the car and letting George take her to where she would have her first full scene with another person physically present since starting on this journey. Having already done at least one seemingly public scene, Carol was less afraid of being on display, and only slightly concerned about letting her Master down if she didn’t please her dinner companion. She wanted so much to be worthy of his trust and attention, and only hoped that what he had called her natural talent for submission would be realized in truth, and not merely a knack for online play that would not hold up to in-person encounters.

Having given herself to her Master, it did not truly matter whether he was physically present for his control to be absolute. She would do as he had commanded, and follow George’s orders as if they came from him directly.

It seemed only a short time after they left the seafood restaurant that they arrived at a small townhouse in a quiet area of town. Carol wasn’t exactly sure where she was, but felt like the surroundings should be familiar to her for some reason. Perhaps the trees were similar to those outside the restaurant, or perhaps there was more going on than she realized. Whatever her vague stirrings of recognition, Carol set them aside as George expertly parked the car and released her from her near-trance by unclasping her seat-belt and leading her gently out of the car by her hand.

“I am very glad you came with me, Carol, because I have a few things to tell you tonight before we play,” George said as they drifted up the walkway into the house. “Let me take your coat, and then we can have our little chat. Actually, let me have your dress, too, now that we are inside. But, please, tell me if you get chilled. I wouldn’t want you to be in any way uncomfortable while you are under my roof.”

Carol handed over her coat and once more allowed her dress to pool on the floor, before bending to pick it up and hand it over to George. She could feel herself start to mentally withdraw again, and so forced herself to pay attention to how her shoes felt on her feet, and to the minute details of his hallway. He seemed to favor shades of blue, and had at least a little interest in French décor and history, based on the furnishings she could see from where she stood.

He opened a door and stepped through, beckoning her to follow. As she entered what was clearly a study of some kind, he closed the door behind her, and motioned to her to sit in the chair opposite his heavy mahogany desk, on which was sitting a nearly new laptop computer, complete with webcam and state of the art sound system. Sitting in the imposing yet comfortable-looking chair behind the desk, George steepled his fingers together and looked at her, resting his elbows in front of him. Suddenly he snapped his fingers as if he’d forgotten something, and reached into a side drawer, pulling out a small box, from which he drew a signet ring which he then placed on his left index finger.

“I’m going to show you this ring,” said George, “and then I think you’ll understand what I want you to do before we go any further. It’s probably the simplest way to get my point across without having to go into a lot of detail.”

Carol leaned forward and looked at the ring, expecting to see a college or family crest of some kind, and not expecting it to mean anything in particular. What she saw instead shocked her out of her complacency, and made her look up at George in startled wonder. His heavy gold ring was engraved with a stylized G that was very familiar to her. She wore a near copy of it threaded through her nipple at all times, only in silver.

“You mean…you’re really Guy?” stuttered Carol in confusion. “This whole time you’ve been playing your own friend? But why?”

“Because I wanted to see if you would really go through with something like this without me being able to watch you do it,” replied George easily. “I wanted you to choose, each step of the way, to do this because you wanted to do so, and not just because you knew I was making you do so.”

Carol felt herself start to smile, and knew that although her online relationship had come to a natural conclusion, her journey with her Master was only just beginning…

Go back to part 1 Finding a Master

George’s hand felt heavy in Carol’s hair, but in a way the stroking motion was reassuring. It grounded her in the moment, and didn’t let her float off as much as she’d expected to, and at the same time it reminded her that her place was on the floor, at the feet of the one her Master had sent to test her resolve.

Without speaking, he motioned her to stand up and follow him out to the car. It appeared that they were going to go through with the rest of the “date” even though they’d just had what most guys hope for towards the end of the night. Carol was a bit puzzled, but had promised to obey, so she stood up, put on her coat, and walked outside.

Getting into the sleek luxury car and making sure that they were both settled, George pulled away from the curb, easily controlling the powerful automobile as it purred towards the freeway. “We’re going to have a bit of a drive ahead of us, so just sit there and relax,” he said, glancing over at her in the dim light of the cabin.

“Alright,” replied Carol. “May I ask where we’re heading?”

“No, I don’t think so,” returned George. “It’s just going to have to be a surprise. Rest assured that your attire is appropriate and that I will be taking care of everything. Just let yourself drift, Carol.”

She nodded, and leaned back into the comfortable seat, glad that her brief time kneeling in the dress hadn’t irreparably creased or damaged it. She had enough money to buy whatever clothing she wanted, but Carol preferred to dress well and be presentable, especially when she was with other people whose opinion mattered to her. And even though she would only know him for an evening, Carol didn’t want George to be disappointed in any part of her presence or performance.

Some time passed, but Carol didn’t pay attention to exactly how much. Her instructions had been to relax and let him take care of everything, and that was exactly what she intended to do. She had a small clutch with her that held her keys, cell phone, and wallet, and she had at least two taxicab companies on her speed dial, so she would be able to get home from wherever they ended up, so long as she knew where to meet the car. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to actually flee, but knowing that she had an escape route if she needed it meant that she was better able to relax and just go with however the evening went.

They pulled up before a nice blue building with a discrete sign indicating that it specialized in seafood, and let the valet take care of parking. It was usually difficult to find parking this deep into the city, but that’s at least one reason why the nicer places had thought ahead and been built over underground parking garages. They could only hold a few dozen cars, but drunk patrons could trust to leave their vehicles overnight, and the nominal fee for “storage” was generally much more reasonable than a ticket for drunken driving would have been.

They walked up to the entrance, and were greeted by the Hostess without much fanfare. “Ah, Mr. George!” she exclaimed. “It is so nice of you to visit us again so soon! And with such a lovely companion as well. Please, follow me.”

She led them to a quiet table in the corner of the sedate restaurant, with a lovely view of the harbor out the bay window, and a screen partially blocking the table from the chatter and occasional clink of silverware that added to the murmur of the establishment. There were no prices on the menu Carol was handed, but a quick glance at George told her not to ask about it, and suggested that he would be ordering for the both of them in any case.

“Any allergies? Or crustaceans to which you are partial?” George politely queried. “I shall take care of our meal, of course, and hopefully you will enjoy yourself enough that you will make the right choice at the end of the meal.”

The meal passed pleasantly enough. Carol had some lovely pasta in cream sauce, a few scallops in a broth flavored with mushrooms, and seasonal vegetables prepared artfully as garnish and suitable accompaniment to the rich meal. Soon enough, another two hours had passed, and it was nearly time to choose whether she would go home and risk displeasing her Master, or allow George to take her to his home…

Go back to part 1 Finding a Master

“I’m sure we’re all happy to see you so obedient,” George said as Carol walked into the hallway. “Perhaps we should revise our plans for the evening slightly. Stop where you are and stand there until I tell you to move.”

Carol froze, and stood there nervously for a moment before relaxing and trying to get back into the mindset of pleasing her Master. It was harder to do than she thought, because she didn’t know the person ordering her around, she hadn’t talked to him about her limits, and so she would just have to trust that her Master had spoken with him beforehand and had negotiated on her behalf.

George stalked up to her and circled her trembling form, before reaching out with one hand and running it down her bare arm. Her shaking increased, but she didn’t say anything, just bit her lip and tried not to let her growing sense of dread show too much.

Stepping in close behind her, George put his hands on Carol’s bare shoulders and whispered into her ear. “You need to relax, Carol, or you’ll be too nervous to have any fun. And then I’ll have to let your…’friend’ know that you weren’t as pleasant to be around as he promised.” He placed one hand on the back of her neck, and tilted her head down until she was submissively staring at the floor.

Carol took a deep breath and released it, letting herself fall into subspace, and releasing her fear and worry about the situation into the ether.

“That’s better,” purred George. “Just let yourself drop and we’ll both have a good time. I promise not to do anything that would get either of us in too much trouble, at least, as long as you keep being a good girl.” He chuckled, and stood back, releasing her entirely.

Carol remained standing where she’d been left, waiting for his next order. She felt a bit detached and yet sensitized at the same time. Her focus was entirely on George and his wishes, and the rest of the world just seemed to fall away as she let her attention coalesce onto the strange man in her apartment.

George circled her for a moment, then pushed her into a kneeling position on the floor. Carol kept her head forward, and clasped her hands behind her back, making sure to keep her balance. He stopped in front of where she was kneeling, and put his hand on the back of her hair, pushing her head just a bit forward so that her forehead was pushing against his lower thighs.

“You’re doing well, but it’s time for you to learn what it really means to obey. You’re going to suck me off without using your hands, and after you swallow, we’re going to go out to dinner and then you’ll be able to return here or choose to come home with me.”

Carol nodded, and tilted her head back to look at him questioningly. “You can use your hands to get me out, pet, but after that you’ll have to keep them where you have them right now,” he said.

She reached up and opened his fly, then pulled his underwear down part of the way so that she could reach his penis without much difficulty. She looked at him once more to make sure he wanted to stand in her entryway instead of sitting down, but when he just raised an eyebrow at her and nodded, she leaned forward and got started.

Nuzzling under his cock, she just breathed against the base of his penis for a minute, before sucking the underside into her mouth. Swishing her tongue against the quickly hardening shaft, she worked her way up until she could close her lips around the purple head and apply some real suction. Without being able to use her hands to balance her, Carol had to minimize her actual movement, so she used her strong tongue and agile lips to move things along.

As he grew in her mouth, his hands reached up to clasp the back of her head. He didn’t direct the action at all, just let the light pressure remind her that he was there and could take control at any point. The reminder of her helplessness made Carol moan around the cock she’d taken deeply into her throat, which provoked a grunt from George, and a slight thrusting motion.

Knowing she was doing well, and that they didn’t have all that much time before the dinner reservation, Carol sped up as much as she could from her cramped position on the ground, and soon felt the veins throbbing slightly as he got close to coming in her mouth. Risking a glance upwards, Carol caught his intense gaze and pulled back until just the tip was in her mouth, allowing a trickle of saliva and precum to escape from between her lips. Mouthing at the sensitive head, she pressed her teeth lightly against his slit, and sucked gently at his hole as it erupted into her mouth.

He’d told her to swallow, so Carol did her best to catch everything in her mouth, before cleaning him off with her tongue, and swallowing deeply. She wanted to wipe the overflow off of her chin, but she hadn’t been given permission, so she looked down and kept kneeling to wait for his next instruction…

Go back to part 1 Finding a Master

The knock on the door came just as dusk was falling that evening. The combination of the growing darkness and the uncertainty of what was coming left Carol even more off-balance than when she’d had to perform on camera for her Master’s friends. Going on a date with a real person, and having to agree to whatever he wanted? It didn’t feel in the same league as the playful encounters she’d had earlier, but at the same time she really wanted to make Him proud by following his commands, even if no one else would know but the two of them.

Realizing that she’d left the stranger waiting for a few minutes, Carol clattered to answer the door in her new black high heels and slinky black sleeveless dress. This might not have been a “normal” date from her perspective, but she kind of remembered how to look the part, and was going to do her best to hold up her end of the deal.

“Carol?” asked the tall man standing on her porch. “I’m George. Your…friend Guy asked me to take you out tonight.”

“Hello,” said Carol nervously. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute. Won’t you come in while I get my coat?”

“Thank you, I think I will,” replied George. With that, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Carol was abruptly aware of the fact that she had a tall unknown man standing in her small house, and that she had little to no control over the next few hours, even if he was unaware of that.

Carol stepped into the hall to grab her coat, and turned around to find that George had followed her, and was staring intently at her feet.

“Those shoes look really uncomfortable. Why don’t you go change into ones that are a bit lower?” he suggested.

Carol was about to argue, and realized that he had asked her to do something, and she had promised to do everything he asked of her, even mundane or possibly contradictory suggestions. Biting her tongue, Carol realized that this would be a test for her patience as well as her ability to follow orders, just like she’d wanted when she first started being able to find kink exciting.

“Oh, um…sure,” stuttered Carol. “That makes sense, I guess. I’ll be right back.”

“And put on something with a bit of color while you’re at it, the black does little for your appearance,” called George as she ducked back into the bedroom.

Carol grit her teeth and quickly changed into a new outfit, with flats instead of high heels, and a bright blue dress instead of the attractive black one she’d had on before. Changing clothing meant she had to switch out her earrings and necklace too, of course, so it was at least fifteen minutes before she could rejoin George in the hallway.

George smiled darkly when he saw her new outfit, and said nothing. Carol looked at him a bit worriedly, and felt her eyes widen as she realized that he seemed to know about her instructions, and would be taking full advantage of her willingness to please her absent Master…

Go back to part 1 Finding a Master

Carol woke up the next day feeling rested and relaxed, and a lot better about the cam show she’d put on for her Master. Whether or not anyone had actually been watching her, He’d been able to see that she would do what He wanted her to do, and He’d told her that He was proud of her. The reminder that he cared about her as a person and not just as a sex object, and the “reward” had been nice, too. Turning on her computer, Carol quickly logged into the chat room and waited for him to appear.

GuyofGisbourne has entered the room.
GuysGrrl: Good morning, Sir!
GuyofGisbourne: Good morning. And how are you today?
GuysGrrl: Very well, Sir! i’m ready for whatever You have planned next for me. =)
GuyofGisbourne: you might be a bit too eager there, girl, calm down a moment.
GuysGrrl: my deepest apologies, Sir. i await Your commands at Your pleasure.
GuyofGisbourne: That’s better. Tell me about how you got yourself off.
GuysGrrl: i used the purple toy and the bullet that You provided, Sir, and was very gentle with myself.
GuyofGisbourne: So you didn’t pinch a nipple, even once?
GuysGrrl: …
GuyofGisbourne: Did you pinch one of your own nipples?
GuysGrrl: Yes, Sir. But gently! And only to remind myself of Your presence!
GuyofGisbourne: Didn’t we have this conversation already? Do I need to tell you how disappointed I am that you can’t follow a simple direction? I said GENTLY. That means no pinching, no hard fucking, and no soreness the next day.
GuysGrrl: But Sir! i’m not sore and i didn’t know not to do so!
GuyofGisbourne: That’s just an excuse. And you’re very mouthy today. Maybe we should rethink our arrangement if you can’t follow basic instructions.
GuysGrrl: Please, Sir! Not that! i’ll be good, i promise! Just tell me what i can do to make it up to You.
GuyofGisbourne: Very well. I will give you another chance. I want you to go on a date with someone, and allow them to do whatever they want to you, without prompting them or asking them for clarification. The only exception is if they threaten you with actual physical violence.
GuysGrrl: Someone new? Or someone i already know, Sir?
GuyofGisbourne: I will choose your date. He will arrive tonight between six and seven, and you are not to tell him you have to do what he wants, you are just to go along with what he says. No prompting him, and no weaseling out of things. Are we clear?
GuysGrrl: Yes, Sir. i’m sorry, Sir. i will do as You ask of me.
GuyofGisbourne: We’ll see.
GuyofGisbourne has left the room.

Carol stepped away from the computer and took a deep breath. Interacting with people from the privacy and safety of her own home was one thing, but going on a date with a stranger? And letting him do whatever he wanted? This seemed to be both a severe test, as well as a great indicator of trust. Because how would he know that she had followed his instructions to the letter? There would only be her word for it, unless he knew the person she was seeing very very well indeed…

Go back to part 1 Finding a Master

Carol got back from her walk feeling a bit better about herself, and started to follow the rest of her instructions for the evening. She ate a light salad, and had two glasses of water to replenish what she’d lost through exercise and stress. Cleaning up after herself, Carol drifted into her playroom, where she carefully took off her clothes and folded them into a pile by the door.

Having already bathed twice, Carol just ran a quick washcloth over her face and torso, where she’d worked up a sweat from carrying the groceries back from the store. Moving to the other side of the room, she rubbed a bit of scented lotion into her arms and face