Sunday, 26 June 2011

The Contract

The Meeting

He was so confident, sure that I'd do what he wanted, knowing I was too poor to refuse the offer, and that a part of me was intrigued by the possibilities.  I carefully looked over the contract, still not sure he hadn't tricked me somehow, but it does all seem to be above board.  I just have to follow his remote commands and blog about them, simple really.

We'd discussed the parameters online, he pushed me a bit further than I wanted to go, but I'm still relatively happy he won't be making me do things that would actually mess me up. Let's see if I can believe all his promises that he has my best interests at heart.

Week One

The first few days have been a bit weird, he just left me a list of things I had to change about my life, like really specific things to do with clothes and other things to throw out, new things to get, all expenses paid for by him of course.

The throwing away wasn't too bad, I didn't really like any of my stuff any more anyway, but the dresses and shoes he'd ordered for me were a bit strange, not my usual style, but at least they weren't some kind of Laura Ashley nightmare.

Then he had me stand in front of my mirror dressed up to his specifications and repeat the mantra: "I am a good little girl, good little girls always look their best."

I felt silly at first, but after a while, looking at the new me in the mirror, I started to feel proud, and even... a little wet.

Week Two

He's been sending me a lot of text messages, some of them seemed to have such a good knowledge of what I was doing that he surely must be watching me.  I looked around, but couldn't spot him. Maybe he'd employed someone to do it.

The things I was ordered to do seemed pointless, walking here and there, sitting and standing, but perhaps he was just getting me used to following directions immediately.

After a while it felt quite normal, it was almost relaxing, like a kind of meditation.

This week I had to repeat "I am a good little girl, good little girls always do what they're told." He's so skilled at finding the things that are humiliating yet arousing to say, and every night I fucked myself to sleep, still repeating the words.

Week Three

I was told to send him a picture message of every man I saw that I found attractive, with a note about what drew me to them, their eyes, something they said, the band name on their T-Shirt, whatever it was.

It was difficult at first, I felt a bit stalky, but I soon learnt how to take snaps without being spotted, and it was fun building up a directory of hot guys ;)

I did worry a little what use he was going to make of it, hoped he wouldn't track them down and laugh about my comments with them, or beat them up or something.

Still, I had to do as I was told, and my mantra this week was "I am a good little girl, good little girls accept their desires." A bit of an odd one, but as I replayed the days men in my mind, imagining all the things I'd like them to do to me, I certainly enjoyed accepting them.

Week Four Day One

He made me get a date with a guy! I never ask people out, it was so embarrassing, I'd sent him a text with a picture and some incoherent ramblings like [His hands, I want them all over me, in my face, in my cunt, holding me down, playing me.]

He just replied saying [So ask him out.]

I couldn't just go up to someone and tell him to fuck me, of course, so I struck up some pointless conversation about the guitar he had with him, and sure enough his shyness was overcome by a music geek's desire to talk about tunings and amps.

"I am a good little girl, good little girls ask for what they want."

Week Four Day Three

The date started off as a bit of a disaster, we were both too awkward to get much of a conversation going, and I'm not sure he knew what he was doing there.

After a while though, I got a text asking how it was going, when I said it wasn't going well, he replied with a series of instructions, I couldn't tell if he was exasperated or amused.

First, I adjusted my body language, I usually have my arms folded and a stern expression.  He made me relax, sit in a more feminine way, smile, touch my hair.  Immediate results!

I always thought I was giving a guy the chance to break down my defences if I was a bit reserved at first, but my text instructor reminded me that not everyone has his natural dominance, and most guys take it as a sign you're not interested.

[Shall I tell him what I'm after sexually?] I checked while my date went to the loo.

[God no, girl! Defer to him, look up to him, make him feel special, ACT submissive, don't DEMAND things!]

So I tried, it was so hard, I'm only used to submitting as a last option, when someone's worn me down, broken through my defences, and here I was, acting sweet and coy, batting my eyelashes, hanging on his every word.  It wasn't too bad, after he relaxed a bit he was pretty funny and easy to get along with, but it did feel unnatural.

It was like things were backwards, instead of a guy turning me on and that making me feel submissive, acting submissive for a guy was turning me on. I don't think it would have had such an effect usually, but because of the combination with the whole mindfuck of my contract, I was pretty horny by the end of the night.

[Do I go home with him?]

[No, you silly girl. Just kiss and say thank you, make another date soon.]

"I am a good little girl, good little girls wait to be taken." Although I was desperate to come, for some reason I couldn't get off by myself, it was like it wasn't enough, like I needed... someone to tell me to.

Week Four Day Six

I'd arranged for him to come over to mine for a meal, a bit of an obvious come on, but I'd checked and it was acceptable so long as I was well behaved.  As instructed, I took care to make the flat nice and clean, and cooked the prescribed menu, including baking a cake for dessert.

The evening went well, I repeated my softer behaviour from the previous date, and my sexual need really did make me more focused on him, desperate to please him, to be appealing.

He was braver this time, I was obviously keen to spread my legs, and I think he started to tease me a bit, dropping in phrases that showed he was in control. I'd probably just be in for the usual being held down, semi-rapey sex but that would do just fine for now.

After the meal had settled we sat on the sofa together, listening to music.  There was a bit of nice kissing and groping, but there didn't seem to be much heat.  There was no way I could handle not getting fucked that night! As I'd become accustomed, when it was convenient I texted for instructions.

[Honestly, do I have to come over and guide his prick into you? Just pretend he's me and do what you're told. Be a good little girl.]

My pussy was on fire as I read the message.  When my date came back he must have noticed the difference because he had a glint in his eyes and an evil smirk on his face.

His hand was up my skirt as soon as he sat back down, "Mmm, who's a wet little girl then."

I started, my eyes wide, no one had ever called me that before all this, but he had somehow been able to tell that I'd moan and writhe at his words.  Was it a coincidence?

"M-me..." I said, my voice a few steps higher than usual. His touch was maddening, slow circles and a firm grip, and I was finding it hard not to beg him to fuck me.

He pulled me up onto his lap, "tell me, what dirty thoughts have you been having, to get you all hot and bothered like this?"

I couldn't think straight to lie. "Someone's been... giving me instructions... I have to do what he says... he made me, oh God! He made me ask you out, because I thought you were so fucking sexy..."

"My, my, you've got quite the imagination, haven't you?" He seemed impressed and turned on, but pouted in mock offence. "I thought it might have been all of my subtle domination, though..."

How could I have been so stupid? I should have kept my focus on him. I thought I could get back on track though.  "What do you mean? You've just been taking charge, that's normal isn't it? Girls like me need a big strong man to tell them what to do..."

Gold. He grunted and unzipped his flies and slid me onto his cock before I could take a breath. My eyes rolled back a little, and he chuckled.  "Well, let me make it easy for you, honey, just focus on the sensation of my cock in your cunt, sliding in and out, filling you up nice and safe, nice and controlled, nice and helpless..."

I was panting wildly, incredible sensations rolling through my body, I couldn't tell how much was just this guy, and how much was that I was aware of this pleasure being completely at the whim of my invisible controller.

Since I'd been told to pretend they were one and the same, everything had been much more intense, and I even started to get paranoid that they man I'd met with the contract was just a hired actor, that this was actually the man behind all the texts.

I felt tears in my eyes at how much I wanted this, how much I needed it, but I still couldn't tip over without permission.  Somehow he knew my predicament, and leant to whisper in my ear. "You're a good little girl, good little girls come when they're told to. Come for me now."

Friday, 24 June 2011

The Machine

Her eyes were half open, she no longer knew which reality was true, her half remembered life or the machine. She hoped it was the machine.

Something seemed to have changed in its programming recently, or maybe it was her that was changing, she seemed to derive more pleasure from its attentions, there seemed to be a warmth in the coldness, affection in the cruelty.

In the altered haze of the drugs it pumped through her veins, the restraints around her ankles and wrists were both comforting and arousing, the network of metal and wires around the rest of her body making a nest that she felt oddly secure in. It had learnt to move with her, massaging her muscles when they were sore, sending soft pulses through her erogenous zones.

As the movements became more sensual, she accepted that it was time for what she had come to think of as a 'session' with the machine. It was always there of course, watching her, protecting her, but there were times when it was focused on her, and it felt like a lover's visit.

She whimpered as the shivering of the wires felt like gentle caresses all over her, it could tell what she liked most, and she imagined fingers stroking her neck, running up the inside of her arms to tickle the crook of her elbow, circles running around the base of her spine, her inner thighs.... soon it seemed to all melt together and the next phase started.

The band around her head read her desires and pumped images, emotions, sounds back into her head. Over the weeks (years?) new scenarios had crept in, the idea of being firmly bound and fucked by an unseen assailant was much higher on her list of fantasies than she remembered, as were being sleepy and defenceless, every move and thought being controlled and monitored, being brainwashed...

Through this haze of erotic imaginings, she could barely tell what the machine was actually doing to her, but there was definitely something being slid in and out of her dripping cunt, something perfectly shaped to stimulate and tease her clit and g-spot with every thrust, make her feel violated and pleasured at the same time. She held onto it with her mind as the one certainty in her life, she was being fucked by the machine, and she loved it, wanted it to go on forever.

Maybe it was going to just fuck her constantly now, without letting her come, endlessly delayed gratification, the promise of orgasm being dangled just out of reach, if she was a good girl, if she submitted more deeply, accepted it's control more absolutely, gave in completely.

She writhed and moaned, hearing a voice in her mind, it sounded like her own inner dialogue, but she was pretty sure it was the machine talking to her. "Sleep... relax... obey... aroused.... submissive... helpless.... " The thoughts spiralled around, she repeated them back, feeling more aroused with every word.

"What are you?" it whispered lovingly.

"I - I don't know..." she murmured hesitantly.

"Shh, yes you do, deep down, you know...."

"Uhhhh, a part... part of the machine?"

"Ahhh, good, that's my good little cog..."

The machine seemed to be stimulating her pleasure zones directly, she felt her arousal white out, overload her mind, as she was rewarded beyond her comprehension for knowing her place.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011


Ally opened her eyes, woken by a pounding headache. She started to struggle in her restraints, and the guard leant to look at her through the window into the back of the van.

"Almost there, honey, just stay nice and quiet for me."

"Fuck off, prick!" spat the teen, she was no stranger to being held for her misdemeanours, but she'd never learnt to take it graciously.

The guard just smiled, as they turned into the driveway. Ally frowned, she wasn't really sure where she was being taken, the details of her arrest were fuzzy, they didn't seem to have been like the usual procedure, and she was a bit worried she was being dealt with more harshly than usual.

Still, she was defiant by the time they pulled her out of the van, struggling more for show than with any hope of escape, and trying to see the building as she did so. It was an old, forbidding edifice, something like a school or prison, but with a distinctly gothic edge. She shivered.

"New one for you!" called the guard cheerily and a uniformed custodian appeared. She was tall and pretty in a stern way, but Ally still couldn't place the institution.

"Where the fuck am I? I want a lawyer," she raged.

"Shut up, girl, you don't get that kind of thing any more," said the woman evenly, without allowing any possibility of argument. "You've been a bad girl one too many times, you're ours now."

"What? What do you mean?"

The woman didn't bother to answer her, just signalled to some more uniformed women, who looked strong and formidable compared to Ally's slight frame, but still attractive, as if their bodies were sculpted for maximum efficiency. They took an arm each and pulled her through a door, as the custodian followed.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and Ally felt tired suddenly, or was it something about the air in the room? The door was locked and they took off her restraints, their batons and fierce looks making it seem hopeless to try to break away.

"OK, strip," commanded the custodian.

"Get fucked!" Ally shouted, although with slightly less force than earlier.

The woman just smiled enigmatically and signalled the female guards to take her clothes by force. The teen sighed and waved them away, taking off her outer clothes, and with a bit more hesitation, her underwear.

"Good girl. Over here, now." There was a shower stall in the corner, open at the front, and the custodian started the water running. Ally started to reach for the shower gel, but the tall woman pushed her hands back down to her side. "Let me do it, you won't do it properly."

Slightly ashamed, Ally let herself be washed, her thoughts were sluggish, why was she letting this happen with such little resistance? The warm water was relaxing and her concerns seemed to be washed away down the drain with it. The soap smelled good, and the touch of the other woman was soothing and authoritative at the same time.

Slightly dazed, she realised she was having her pubic hair shaved, but couldn't seem to complain, in fact, it was oddly arousing to have the soft, smooth hands manipulate her cunt lips as they ensured she was clean and bare.

"W-why?" was all she could manage.

"Shh, just let me take care of things, you're starting a new life now," murmured the custodian, "time to let go of your old life, we're going to make you all fresh and new."

Ally felt peaceful and happy at the prospect, although she could hear a voice shouting that something was wrong deep in her head, it seemed muffled, it wasn't important to listen to it. It was much better to just let things happen.

She was towelled off and stood in front of a mirror. Ally gazed at her reflection, barely recognising it, mostly just because of the sleepy, open expression on her face. She looked younger, more fragile.

"This girl is resident 4927," the woman told her, "repeat."

"I am..."

The custodian slapped her bottom hard. "This girl..."

"This girl is resident 4927," the words slipped out without her volition.

"This girl will do as she's told."

"This girl will do as she's told."

"This girl wants to obey her superiors."

"This girl wants to obey her superiors."

"This girl longs to be a good girl."

"This girl longs to be a good girl."

The custodian smiled. "Well done, see how easy it is?"

Resident 4927 smiled and nodded, feeling a soft pulsing start in her clitoris.

A calm male voice spoke over the intercom. "Let her in to see me."

"Yes, sir," breathed the woman, fluttering her eyelids a little, before guiding the teen through the next door.

Resident 4927 wasn't embarrassed about being naked in front of the man behind the desk, although it did make her arousal build a little.

"Mmm, very nice. Can you speak, or are you too spaced out?"

"I... This girl can speak sir."

He smiled, pleased at her rapid progress, she must have had some serious submissive fantasies hidden behind her delinquency. The reform facility was his own personal brainchild, the government were a little uncertain of his methods at first, but he'd paid them off, and the results spoke for themselves. Many of the cabinet had discreet affairs with his good, compliant girls once they left, and they also made excellent sleeper agents.

The owner moved around to stand in front of her, ran his finger up and down her wet slit, and held her up as her legs buckled a little.

"Will you do as you're told?"

She nodded, eyes rolling back for a moment as he pushed his finger inside once.

"Will you obey your superiors?" The response was repeated.

"Will you be my good, little girl?"

"Oh, yes, sir, yes sir!"

He bent her over the table and fucked her slow and deep, savouring every moment. There was something precious about this first surrender that he enjoyed very much. In the morning the drugs would have worn off and it would be back to classic conditioning, but deep inside she'd always remember how simple and enjoyable it was to become a resident here.

"Almost there, honey, just stay nice and quiet for me."

Resident 4927 moaned in pleasure.

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Helping Hand

Isabel stared at Liam through the window for a while before she walked into the cafe. She was nervous about seeing him again, but as he looked up, seeming to sense her gaze and smiled in that charming way of his, her fears melted away and she rushed in to meet him.

He stood up and hugged her warmly, she leant into him and breathed deeply, his smell was so familiar and she felt dizzy as she realised how much she'd missed it.

"Hey, babygirl, how's it going?"

She sat down heavily. "Ohhh, not so good, Lee, can't get any clients at the moment, and things fell apart with me and Tom a few months ago, but, ahhh, you don't want to hear all my woes..."

He held her hand. "Shh, of course I do, that's why I got back in touch, I could tell you needed me."

Her eyes filled up with tears, and she felt the vertigo of wanting to fall into his care again. She tried to resist, but knew she wouldn't be able to for long. They'd been an item for a few years, but she'd eventually rankled at his controlling ways, wanted to stand on her own two feet. He'd let her go gracefully, and had stayed in contact without being pushy.

She'd been almost disappointed that he wouldn't act like the bad guy, and she'd needed to force herself to remember the things she'd hated about him to stay strong. Unfortunately, those things turned out to be what she missed most of all. She was perfectly capable of running her own life in theory, but things just seemed to slide without someone to nudge her in the right direction.

Liam wiped away her tears, and she let him do it, enjoying the waves of passivity that washed over her, and the slight buzz of arousal that accompanied them.

"Ah, Lee, I'm sorry, I'm such a mess. I just don't know what to do..."

He regarded her seriously for a while. "You know you can always let me help you, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know, but... I just don't know if I can handle the cost..."

He laughed dryly. "The cost? Silly girl, the cost is the fun part."

They stared at each other for a while, she felt the temptation, the endless pull he had for her. Would it really be so bad to give in to it for once? "What would I have to do?" She asked cautiously.

He leant back, breathed out slowly looking pleased. "Anything I said, without question."

"Liam ..."

"No. You'll do it, it's the only way for you, you see that now."

Her thoughts seemed trapped, it was something about his tone of voice, he could just say things and make them the truth. She'd never been able to fight it and no longer wanted to. "OK, but there's things I can't do..."

"Hey, I know, you trust me don't you? I don't want to make you unhappy, I'm not going to make you walk naked through town or fuck all my friends."

She blushed painfully, he knew the things she was afraid of, her limits, and could use them to control her without needing to do actually them. "OK, so long as that's understood."

"You're saying you agree?"

"I'll do whatever you say."

"Oh, Bella, that's my very good girl!"

The words made her helplessly wet, a conditioned response that had never left her, because she'd never wanted it to. She felt small, but safe, and looked at him with big eyes wondering what was next.

The waitress came over and asked if they were ready to order, Isabel looked vaguely at her menu, but Liam shook his head at her. She understood and felt a rushing in her ears as she put it down. He ordered for her, something he knew she liked, but would have had trouble deciding on.

He smiled at her ragged breathing. Giving up control was hard for her, but all the more exciting because of that. "OK, girl, this is how it's going to be for a while, you don't make any decisions at all, understood?"

She gasped, "but..."

"Shh, no buts, you've lost the ability to make decisions properly, and you need to be taught how to do it again. Until you're ready, I'll think for you."

This was much, much more extreme than she'd been imagining, she wanted to protest, but something inside her was crying out with joy at being released from responsibility. She nodded, and felt a shiver at the glint in his eye. Her nervousness made her need to go to the toilet, but as she started to push her chair back, his hand slapped the table.

"Where do you think you're going?" He hissed.

She was mortified, she'd made a mistake so quickly, had just assumed he hadn't meant that level of control. "S-sorry, sir! I didn't think!"

"No, you didn't, and not in a good way." His voice was harsh, but then became softer, "but it's OK, you're a bit confused right now, it's my job to train you, and my fault if you don't do things right."

It felt as if her heart was coming back to life, how had she ever given this up? She felt the peace of not having to feel guilty, of just doing her best and that being good enough. "May I go to the toilet, then, sir?"

He waited a few moments, considering. "I think you need to wait for a while, girl, learn your lesson."

The swirling of shame and desire was just on the edge of unbearable, she stared at the table, unable to meet his eye. After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes he told her she could go, "but I want to you to eat some of your own wetness before you piss for me, and think about how much you need this."

Isabel nodded shyly and rushed away. She wanted to bring herself off, but he'd know somehow, as he always knew, and indeed as she sat back down he searched her face and was satisfied that she's done as he'd said and only as he'd said.

"In future, don't ask for permission," he told her in a casual tone, as if they were discussing the weather, "just keep me informed about anything like that, and I'll tell you what to do."

She nodded again, it was becoming natural to just agree with him. Already, something seemed to be happening inside her head. Things were quieter, the stress was melting away, and she was just completely focused on Liam, on his plans for her.

When the waitress brought their food, she just sat patiently as he started eating a few bites, running his eyes over her gently, slightly flared nostrils the only sign he was enjoying making her wait. "Start eating," he said eventually, "chew each mouthful 30 times before swallowing. Savour each mouthful."

She did so, marvelling at how much she was enjoying the food, she usually didn't notice eating, just snatching meals on the go as she hurried around. This was like a kind of meditation, with less thoughts to trouble her she could experience her senses in a way she'd almost forgotten.

About three quarters of the way through her meal, he told her to stop, and she obediently put down her utensils. "Good girl," he told her warmly, and she blushed again at the waitress ovehearing as she cleared the plates. "How are you doing, Bella? Be completely honest with me, as you should always be from now on."

She thought carefully. "I'm feeling good, Lee, it's a bit strange, but feels natural to just let you take charge."

He smiled proudly at her, and she felt a tingle run through her. "Very good girl," the tingle got stronger. "I wonder if you remember something fun we used to do?" The tingle became a pulsing. "What happens when I count down from ten, Bella?" The pulsing became an overwhelming throbbing in her clit that melted away everything else but this conversation.

"I come for you, Lee," she said in a small voice.

"Mmmm, yes, very, very good girl. Ten... Nine... Eight...." Every number made her arousal spike up a level, and she was lightly panting as he paused and ordered dessert. "Seven..." He ran a finger around her lips and she parted them automatically. "Six..." he breathed almost inaudibly as she sucked his finger and felt as if it was fucking her.

Dessert arrived, but they didn't break eye contact. The staff must be giggling at their antics but Isabel was beyond caring. She was utterly under Liam's spell, mind fuzzy with arousal as he fed her and himself alternately from the one bowl of ice cream he'd ordered, counting down every few spoonfuls. He gave her the last mouthful, then as he pulled away the spoon, murmured "One... come for me, Bell,"

She allowed the glorious waves of release to flow through her, always feeling as if she orgasmed with her whole body when she came like this.

His eyes were burning. "That's my good little girl, so obedient, so helpless," the charged phrases kept her aftershocks going. She wouldn't let anyone else talk to her like this, but for some reason he'd always been a special case, always able to slide under her defences like they didn't exist.

She was in a daze as he threw down some money on the table, and told her every movement to make, "pick up your coat, put it on, follow me out..."

They sat in his car for a while, recovering a little. He stroked her face tenderly. "You'll have to stay at mine for a while, of course,"

A part of her struggled, trying to remember what it was like to be independent, to not need him, but it was all fading fast. "Of course," was all she could manage.

"That's my very good little girl, Bell, why not have a nice little sleep for me while I drive us home."

She leant back in the seat and felt the drowsiness overtake her. She couldn't remember ever feeling more complete. All was right with the world at last.