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Laura's Evolution (JG Leathers)


Laura

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Laura’s desire for total subjugation runs deep, and when she meets Master Bernard, she believes she’s found the man she’s always dreamed of and slave life she desires. The two marry and begin their life together in a luxurious house that’s discreetly located on 50 private acres, behind a high surrounding wall. Though they experience the usual up and downs of a new marriage, Laura settles in well to her unique lifestyle as her husband’s slave. However, toward the end of the second year, a decision is made to fit her with a full range of purpose-designed bondage ‘jewellery’ and custom-made restraints. Though excited to see her bondage fantasies fully realized, she has no clue that nearly all of the elaborate decorations her master orders cannot be removed!

With specific plans in mind, Master Bernard takes Laura’s transformation slowly: a physical exam, dental impressions, repeated piercings, even surgery to remove her floating ribs in order to better accommodate the strict corsetry he envisions. The experience is deeply arousing, though it’s troubling too. She’s dreamed of such extremes since puberty, but she has no idea how far her master plans to take their mutual fantasy, until it’s too late to change her mind. She’s fitted with a collar, ankle and wrist cuffs, and bands around her arms and legs. More restraints and odd devices follow as her subjugation becomes more intense and more invasive. She can barely even move! Soon she’s living in a locked cell far from her husband’s bed, where every physical requirement is taken care of by the master’s elaborate gadgetry, including her sexual release. As the weeks go by, she sees little of the man she married and far more of the governess he hired to attend to her physical needs. With so little outside stimulation and no access to the natural world her days and weeks just blend into one. And still, she has yet to learn the ultimate truth of her incarceration and her master’s plan for his future and hers.

Another bondage masterpiece by JG-Leathers, filled with the graphic details of Laura’s systematic descent into extreme bondage.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Pink Flamingo Media    Published: 6 / 2011

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 57000

Style: BDSM/Bondage - Content: Moderate -    Sado-Masochism (SM), Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Current all-time sales ranking: #662


Excerpt..

Chapter One
Dressed

My life has changed in ways that are difficult for me to comprehend, but I must state right now that, initially, it was what I wanted to experience in the worst way imaginable, although, as matters have since evolved, not as deeply and permanently as has come to pass. I knew right from the first that it would be a long and arduous process, but was both mentally and physically prepared for what was to come... I thought. However, before going too much further with the tale of what has happened to me over the years that have ensued, I should first give a little background on how I came to be where I am.
After discovering our mutual desires during our dating of nearly six months, Master and I decided to get married. We had been together about two years with me living as his full-on, 24/7/365 slave. Believe me, it’s hard work for two people to move into this lifestyle, no matter how much they both wish to, but we proceeded with the usual trials and tribulations. During those months after getting married, everything finally began to gel while we became far more in tune with each other and our chosen roles.
Toward the end of the second year, we made the decision that I would be fitted with a full range of purpose-designed bondage ‘jewellery’ and custom-made restraints, although I didn’t realize at that point that nearly all of my decorations would be non-removable. Before proceeding with anything though, Master required that I get a complete physical and a set of comprehensive dental examinations. He wanted impressions made to ensure that what was to come would be safe and not cause me any undue hardship in the course of my everyday life. He told me that these procedures were all quite necessary, for the equipment and some of the stuff I was going to wear would be invasive and intimate. Of course we discussed what I was to be fitted with, although the plans of which I was unaware. Some weeks after all of the examinations were completed, I went into the hospital to have both of my two lower ‘floating’ ribs removed and of course, I agreed to the procedure, but wondered why it was deemed necessary. While I recovered, he told me that they had been taken out so that I could wear the tightest of corsets and since I’d always liked the idea of corseting, but had not pursued it avidly, I was intrigued. He explained that now I would more or less have to wear a corset and the use of the restricting garment would enable me to wear my new costumes with proper security. This rather vague explanation didn’t really satisfy my curiosity, but what could I do? Other than leave him, of course, and I couldn’t really refuse, given that I truly wanted to experience a complete subjugation more deeply. I wasn’t about to abandon the situation I’d craved since early puberty and at last found. After the incisions healed, the next part became apparent when I was fitted with the first corset. At first, the long garment was very uncomfortable, but I soon became accustomed to it, then to my horror, discovered that I was now always required to wear the thing to give me the support that the removed ribs had provided! The corset was a decidedly unwelcome addition to my wardrobe, but was definitely needed and so a long, compressing one became a normal part of my daily ensemble. At the same time the ribs were removed, a dental surgeon had also extracted two molars on each side of my lower jaw and I was puzzled by this additional surgery, but after a while gave it no thought, slowly growing accustomed to the gaps.
I’d always had a strong fascination with piercings and had already done my ear lobes, as well as a couple of decorative labia rings, but these weren’t quite enough for my Master. After making frequent mention to him of my desire to get more, sometime later he informed me that arrangements had been made for me to be additionally pierced and fitted with new and much more ‘permanent’ jewellery. Shuddering inwardly with part-terror and part-delight at his use of the word ‘permanent’, I agreed.
His next revelation was that a few weeks after getting the piercings and having the jewellery emplaced, I would then be fitted with a comprehensive, full body and limb restraint ensemble that would constantly restrain and control me as he required, seeing as how I was his slave and possession. He informed me that he wanted to ensure I was always kept aware of my status, while at the same time knowing that his own more severe requirements were being met in full measure. In our darkest, most secret pillow whispers, I’d asked for something like this to happen and he’d promised to have me adorned with permanent ankle and wrist cuffs and a collar after we’d been married, as well as the other pieces, but he hadn’t specified what these were to be. Now it was time and I was to have my wishes fulfilled in spades, but I began to have second thoughts and wasn’t truly sure I wished to proceed, even after agreeing. However, he was adamant because his dreams and desires were also to be realized and so it was entirely too late for me to back away. He was my Master and so if he required that I be fitted with any particular item, or that I wear a certain type or style of clothing, then it was my unalterable command to execute as per his direction.
The preceding is not to say that I’m spineless jelly or a totally subservient person, but I’ve recognized that I need some sort of strong structure and stability in my life and so had come to understand and accede to his requirements. Unfortunately, I also have a rather short temper at times and tend to become more than a little sharp-tongued when things don’t go in the direction I think they should. One would think that at 22 years of age, most women understand and accept their monthly bouts of PMS; accommodating to them in their daily lives, but mine have always been most distressing. I react badly to my monthly hormonal tides, becoming quite a bitch to live with during those times and of course, Master became aware of this soon after we began our relationship. On far too many occasions, he’d been the recipient of my ill-timed and intemperate comments and had finally reached the point that he informed me he was going to train me out of these outbursts and behaviour patterns, or I would have to leave.
I accepted this ultimatum and agreed to abide by any of the conditions he decided to impose, for by that time I’d slipped deeply into my role as his slave. Basically, my acceptance and agreement were foregone conclusions and truly, I had no option but to do as he wished.
Until this point of our relationship, about a year and a half after getting married, he’d encouraged me to wear pretty much what I wanted, but over the next six months, that facet of my life also began to evolve in new directions, and I wasn’t sure I liked where I was being taken. He commenced these changes by insisting that from that point forward, I was always to wear skirts or dresses, then, the length and weight of the skirts quickly grew longer and more restrictive. Within another three months I had no other clothing in my wardrobe than floor-length garments and too, he insisted that I not wear any sort of panty, but only stockings and a garter belt, together with a minimum of five cm heeled footwear, be it shoes or boots. He ensured that I did so by obtaining ankle strap shoes and boots that could be locked onto my feet and this he did every day before leaving the house. They were only removed when we went to bed, although soon, even that changed. More and more frequently, I wore some sort of footwear all night, every night, and although this took some getting used to, I managed fairly well. The next stage of my training came when he gradually began increasing the height of the heels until soon I possessed nothing shorter than 15 cm ones! Initially, these were very difficult to wear on a full-time basis and I didn’t like them at all, but having them locked on, I could not escape them and so had no choice other than to endure as best I could, even though slowly becoming more and more acclimatized. I sat as often as possible to ease the wearing of the footwear, but that too was also destined to change.
My upper body wasn’t ignored and his declaration that I was to begin wearing tight, constricting bras and turtle-necked types of tops at all times was not happily received or complied with, however I wore them anyway, for I had nothing else available. Mother Nature had been kind to me and I have a good figure: being some 1.6 metres tall, 55 kg in weight and with a nicely proportioned body. My bra size was 90 cm with what is commonly referred to as a DD-sized cup, and combined with a narrow waist of 60 cm, now corseted down to 50 cm, and hips of 95 cm I knew that all of the men I met lusted after me. My hair was another matter. It used to be a thick, glossy black mane and below shoulder length, but my crowning glory has become a thing of the past. I’m totally bald now and while I am still permitted to appear in public, had to wear wigs all of the time. Master insisted that I become this way and at first, I was only shaved, but he spent a lot of money to have all of my body and head hair completely and permanently removed, including my eyebrows and eyelashes! It was a long, drawn-out process and not without some considerable discomfort and outright pain when my pubic hair was excised, but it was eventually accomplished. From that point on I was only required to go for the laser electrolysis once a month and each succeeding visit grew shorter and shorter, for re-growth of the hair roots was almost totally eliminated. Four months after I’d started, there were none left anywhere on my head, limbs or body.
The clothing I was permitted to wear was about to become even more concealing and restrictive, but there were soon to be good reasons for this change, and I definitely wanted it to be that way! After he’d seen pictures of how Saudi women were required to dress in public, Master spent considerable time on the internet researching their costuming and how it could be obtained, and then some weeks after he’d begun his research, a courier company began to deliver large, relatively light cartons to our home. He instructed that they were not to be opened and of course, I was curious as to what the packages contained, so it was with great difficulty that I left them untouched, stacking them in the basement.
I should explain here that Master is quite well off financially and that we live in a large home far out in the country, behind a high wall. The 50 acres of land surrounding this small estate are well cared for by hired gardeners and so there is no need for us to do any sort of maintenance. Before we met, he’d had the house modified to suit his desires and paid-off the assorted authorities to ensure that the changes and additions never appeared either in the house plans held at the local municipality’s engineering office, or on the contractor’s records.
Once I’d settled in, he took me on a tour and it was then that he revealed the secret playrooms, or, truth to tell, the dungeon and cell complex that had been created. Initially, he’d had a deep trench dug and at its end about 150 metres behind the house, he’d had a large deep hole excavated. Within it, a new and very substantial construction had been created, connected by a thick-walled tunnel to a vault-like door hidden in one of the basement walls. All of the walls of the secret complex (both interior and exterior), the floors and the roof were made of thickly re-barred concrete, 50 cm through, then, when everything was complete; the entire set of structures had been covered with five metres of earth. Grass had been allowed to grow naturally and trees were planted in a random pattern, allowing nature to take its course as the master camouflage artist. No one other than the construction crews that had built the place knew it existed and he’d ensured their silence with substantial payments for signed secrecy papers.
The only entrance now to the hidden complex was via the thoroughly concealed vault door in the wine cellar, then the long tunnel to the complex. Both ends of this connecting corridor were secured by a set of doubled doors: one of each set being a hollow, 10 cm thick, plain steel slab that locked like a bank vault door and the other a tightly barred, inner one, two metres further along. All of these doors required power to open or close and each had its own electronic lock with the default setting being that of staying locked until power was restored and the correct combination used. I was frightened yet aroused by his security and secrecy arrangements, but came to love the edge of horror and fear that his ingenuity and dedication had created. I was occasionally locked into one of the cells and left for the night, but that was also to change and become more the norm, rather than the exception.
We lived alone with no children, close relatives, or other social encumbrances and were quite content with our lives. Master has a wide selection of friends, although each seems to be in ‘the scene’ in one way or another. Before I came into his life he’d entertained frequently, but that changed dramatically after we got married and we became, if not hermits, then almost anti-social. With his estate being so isolated and concealed behind the high walls and locked gates, I occasionally got lonely and despite finding some solace and companionship on the internet and TV, there was not much in the way of intellectual stimulation. They were however; better than nothing and having a deep streak of curiosity in my make-up as well as being the benefactor of an excellent education with a Master’s degree in biotechnology, I occasionally found things of interest.
That brings me up to date, and so you know a little of what my life was like at the beginning of my journey into total slavery and bondage. I was about to discover just how well-connected and deeply into the realization of his fantasies Master truly was, for he’d taken a break from his hobby job as a financial analyst, and intended to take me further along my path to becoming his completely-controlled possession.


Excerpt..

Chapter One

Dressed



My life has changed in ways that are difficult for me to comprehend, but I must state right now that, initially, it was what I wanted to
experience in the worst way imaginable, although, as matters have since evolved, not as deeply and permanently as has come to pass. I knew
right from the first that it would be a long and arduous process, but was both mentally and physically prepared for what was to come... I
thought. However, before going too much further with the tale of what has happened to me over the years that have ensued, I should first
give a little background on how I came to be where I am.

After discovering our mutual desires during our dating of nearly six months, Master and I decided to get married. We had been together
about two years with me living as his full-on, 24/7/365 slave. Believe me, it’s hard work for two people to move into this lifestyle, no
matter how much they both wish to, but we proceeded with the usual trials and tribulations. During those months after getting married,
everything finally began to gel while we became far more in tune with each other and our chosen roles.

Toward the end of the second year, we made the decision that I would be fitted with a full range of purpose-designed bondage ‘jewellery’
and custom-made restraints, although I didn’t realize at that point that nearly all of my decorations would be non-removable. Before
proceeding with anything though, Master required that I get a complete physical and a set of comprehensive dental examinations. He wanted
impressions made to ensure that what was to come would be safe and not cause me any undue hardship in the course of my everyday life. He
told me that these procedures were all quite necessary, for the equipment and some of the stuff I was going to wear would be invasive and
intimate. Of course we discussed what I was to be fitted with, although the plans of which I was unaware. Some weeks after all of the
examinations were completed, I went into the hospital to have both of my two lower ‘floating’ ribs removed and of course, I agreed to the
procedure, but wondered why it was deemed necessary. While I recovered, he told me that they had been taken out so that I could wear the
tightest of corsets and since I’d always liked the idea of corseting, but had not pursued it avidly, I was intrigued. He explained that now
I would more or less have to wear a corset and the use of the restricting garment would enable me to wear my new costumes with proper
security. This rather vague explanation didn’t really satisfy my curiosity, but what could I do? Other than leave him, of course, and I
couldn’t really refuse, given that I truly wanted to experience a complete subjugation more deeply. I wasn’t about to abandon the situation
I’d craved since early puberty and at last found. After the incisions healed, the next part became apparent when I was fitted with the first
corset. At first, the long garment was very uncomfortable, but I soon became accustomed to it, then to my horror, discovered that I was now
always required to wear the thing to give me the support that the removed ribs had provided! The corset was a decidedly unwelcome addition
to my wardrobe, but was definitely needed and so a long, compressing one became a normal part of my daily ensemble. At the same time the
ribs were removed, a dental surgeon had also extracted two molars on each side of my lower jaw and I was puzzled by this additional surgery,
but after a while gave it no thought, slowly growing accustomed to the gaps.

I’d always had a strong fascination with piercings and had already done my ear lobes, as well as a couple of decorative labia rings, but
these weren’t quite enough for my Master. After making frequent mention to him of my desire to get more, sometime later he informed me that
arrangements had been made for me to be additionally pierced and fitted with new and much more ‘permanent’ jewellery. Shuddering inwardly
with part-terror and part-delight at his use of the word ‘permanent’, I agreed.

His next revelation was that a few weeks after getting the piercings and having the jewellery emplaced, I would then be fitted with a
comprehensive, full body and limb restraint ensemble that would constantly restrain and control me as he required, seeing as how I was his
slave and possession. He informed me that he wanted to ensure I was always kept aware of my status, while at the same time knowing that his
own more severe requirements were being met in full measure. In our darkest, most secret pillow whispers, I’d asked for something like this
to happen and he’d promised to have me adorned with permanent ankle and wrist cuffs and a collar after we’d been married, as well as the
other pieces, but he hadn’t specified what these were to be. Now it was time and I was to have my wishes fulfilled in spades, but I began to
have second thoughts and wasn’t truly sure I wished to proceed, even after agreeing. However, he was adamant because his dreams and desires
were also to be realized and so it was entirely too late for me to back away. He was my Master and so if he required that I be fitted with
any particular item, or that I wear a certain type or style of clothing, then it was my unalterable command to execute as per his
direction.

The preceding is not to say that I’m spineless jelly or a totally subservient person, but I’ve recognized that I need some sort of strong
structure and stability in my life and so had come to understand and accede to his requirements. Unfortunately, I also have a rather short
temper at times and tend to become more than a little sharp-tongued when things don’t go in the direction I think they should. One would
think that at 22 years of age, most women understand and accept their monthly bouts of PMS; accommodating to them in their daily lives, but
mine have always been most distressing. I react badly to my monthly hormonal tides, becoming quite a bitch to live with during those times
and of course, Master became aware of this soon after we began our relationship. On far too many occasions, he’d been the recipient of my
ill-timed and intemperate comments and had finally reached the point that he informed me he was going to train me out of these outbursts and
behaviour patterns, or I would have to leave.

I accepted this ultimatum and agreed to abide by any of the conditions he decided to impose, for by that time I’d slipped deeply into my
role as his slave. Basically, my acceptance and agreement were foregone conclusions and truly, I had no option but to do as he wished. />
Until this point of our relationship, about a year and a half after getting married, he’d encouraged me to wear pretty much what I wanted,
but over the next six months, that facet of my life also began to evolve in new directions, and I wasn’t sure I liked where I was being
taken. He commenced these changes by insisting that from that point forward, I was always to wear skirts or dresses, then, the length and
weight of the skirts quickly grew longer and more restrictive. Within another three months I had no other clothing in my wardrobe than
floor-length garments and too, he insisted that I not wear any sort of panty, but only stockings and a garter belt, together with a minimum
of five cm heeled footwear, be it shoes or boots. He ensured that I did so by obtaining ankle strap shoes and boots that could be locked
onto my feet and this he did every day before leaving the house. They were only removed when we went to bed, although soon, even that
changed. More and more frequently, I wore some sort of footwear all night, every night, and although this took some getting used to, I
managed fairly well. The next stage of my training came when he gradually began increasing the height of the heels until soon I possessed
nothing shorter than 15 cm ones! Initially, these were very difficult to wear on a full-time basis and I didn’t like them at all, but having
them locked on, I could not escape them and so had no choice other than to endure as best I could, even though slowly becoming more and more
acclimatized. I sat as often as possible to ease the wearing of the footwear, but that too was also destined to change.

My upper body wasn’t ignored and his declaration that I was to begin wearing tight, constricting bras and turtle-necked types of tops at
all times was not happily received or complied with, however I wore them anyway, for I had nothing else available. Mother Nature had been
kind to me and I have a good figure: being some 1.6 metres tall, 55 kg in weight and with a nicely proportioned body. My bra size was 90 cm
with what is commonly referred to as a DD-sized cup, and combined with a narrow waist of 60 cm, now corseted down to 50 cm, and hips of 95
cm I knew that all of the men I met lusted after me. My hair was another matter. It used to be a thick, glossy black mane and below shoulder
length, but my crowning glory has become a thing of the past. I’m totally bald now and while I am still permitted to appear in public, had
to wear wigs all of the time. Master insisted that I become this way and at first, I was only shaved, but he spent a lot of money to have
all of my body and head hair completely and permanently removed, including my eyebrows and eyelashes! It was a long, drawn-out process and
not without some considerable discomfort and outright pain when my pubic hair was excised, but it was eventually accomplished. From that
point on I was only required to go for the laser electrolysis once a month and each succeeding visit grew shorter and shorter, for re-growth
of the hair roots was almost totally eliminated. Four months after I’d started, there were none left anywhere on my head, limbs or body. />
The clothing I was permitted to wear was about to become even more concealing and restrictive, but there were soon to be good reasons for
this change, and I definitely wanted it to be that way! After he’d seen pictures of how Saudi women were required to dress in public, Master
spent considerable time on the internet researching their costuming and how it could be obtained, and then some weeks after he’d begun his
research, a courier company began to deliver large, relatively light cartons to our home. He instructed that they were not to be opened and
of course, I was curious as to what the packages contained, so it was with great difficulty that I left them untouched, stacking them in the
basement.

I should explain here that Master is quite well off financially and that we live in a large home far out in the country, behind a high
wall. The 50 acres of land surrounding this small estate are well cared for by hired gardeners and so there is no need for us to do any sort
of maintenance. Before we met, he’d had the house modified to suit his desires and paid-off the assorted authorities to ensure that the
changes and additions never appeared either in the house plans held at the local municipality’s engineering office, or on the contractor’s
records.

Once I’d settled in, he took me on a tour and it was then that he revealed the secret playrooms, or, truth to tell, the dungeon and cell
complex that had been created. Initially, he’d had a deep trench dug and at its end about 150 metres behind the house, he’d had a large deep
hole excavated. Within it, a new and very substantial construction had been created, connected by a thick-walled tunnel to a vault-like door
hidden in one of the basement walls. All of the walls of the secret complex (both interior and exterior), the floors and the roof were made
of thickly re-barred concrete, 50 cm through, then, when everything was complete; the entire set of structures had been covered with five
metres of earth. Grass had been allowed to grow naturally and trees were planted in a random pattern, allowing nature to take its course as
the master camouflage artist. No one other than the construction crews that had built the place knew it existed and he’d ensured their
silence with substantial payments for signed secrecy papers.

The only entrance now to the hidden complex was via the thoroughly concealed vault door in the wine cellar, then the long tunnel to the
complex. Both ends of this connecting corridor were secured by a set of doubled doors: one of each set being a hollow, 10 cm thick, plain
steel slab that locked like a bank vault door and the other a tightly barred, inner one, two metres further along. All of these doors
required power to open or close and each had its own electronic lock with the default setting being that of staying locked until power was
restored and the correct combination used. I was frightened yet aroused by his security and secrecy arrangements, but came to love the edge
of horror and fear that his ingenuity and dedication had created. I was occasionally locked into one of the cells and left for the night,
but that was also to change and become more the norm, rather than the exception.

We lived alone with no children, close relatives, or other social encumbrances and were quite content with our lives. Master has a wide
selection of friends, although each seems to be in ‘the scene’ in one way or another. Before I came into his life he’d entertained
frequently, but that changed dramatically after we got married and we became, if not hermits, then almost anti-social. With his estate being
so isolated and concealed behind the high walls and locked gates, I occasionally got lonely and despite finding some solace and
companionship on the internet and TV, there was not much in the way of intellectual stimulation. They were however; better than nothing and
having a deep streak of curiosity in my make-up as well as being the benefactor of an excellent education with a Master’s degree in
biotechnology, I occasionally found things of interest.

That brings me up to date, and so you know a little of what my life was like at the beginning of my journey into total slavery and bondage.
I was about to discover just how well-connected and deeply into the realization of his fantasies Master truly was, for he’d taken a break
from his hobby job as a financial analyst, and intended to take me further along my path to becoming his completely-controlled
possession.


Excerpt..

Chapter One


Dressed





My life has changed in ways that are difficult for me to comprehend, but I must state right now that, initially, it was what I wanted to

experience in the worst way imaginable, although, as matters have since evolved, not as deeply and permanently as has come to pass. I knew

right from the first that it would be a long and arduous process, but was both mentally and physically prepared for what was to come... I

thought. However, before going too much further with the tale of what has happened to me over the years that have ensued, I should first

give a little background on how I came to be where I am.


After discovering our mutual desires during our dating of nearly six months, Master and I decided to get married. We had been together

about two years with me living as his full-on, 24/7/365 slave. Believe me, it’s hard work for two people to move into this lifestyle, no

matter how much they both wish to, but we proceeded with the usual trials and tribulations. During those months after getting married,

everything finally began to gel while we became far more in tune with each other and our chosen roles.


Toward the end of the second year, we made the decision that I would be fitted with a full range of purpose-designed bondage ‘jewellery’

and custom-made restraints, although I didn’t realize at that point that nearly all of my decorations would be non-removable. Before

proceeding with anything though, Master required that I get a complete physical and a set of comprehensive dental examinations. He wanted

impressions made to ensure that what was to come would be safe and not cause me any undue hardship in the course of my everyday life. He

told me that these procedures were all quite necessary, for the equipment and some of the stuff I was going to wear would be invasive and

intimate. Of course we discussed what I was to be fitted with, although the plans of which I was unaware. Some weeks after all of the

examinations were completed, I went into the hospital to have both of my two lower ‘floating’ ribs removed and of course, I agreed to the

procedure, but wondered why it was deemed necessary. While I recovered, he told me that they had been taken out so that I could wear the

tightest of corsets and since I’d always liked the idea of corseting, but had not pursued it avidly, I was intrigued. He explained that now

I would more or less have to wear a corset and the use of the restricting garment would enable me to wear my new costumes with proper

security. This rather vague explanation didn’t really satisfy my curiosity, but what could I do? Other than leave him, of course, and I

couldn’t really refuse, given that I truly wanted to experience a complete subjugation more deeply. I wasn’t about to abandon the situation

I’d craved since early puberty and at last found. After the incisions healed, the next part became apparent when I was fitted with the first

corset. At first, the long garment was very uncomfortable, but I soon became accustomed to it, then to my horror, discovered that I was now

always required to wear the thing to give me the support that the removed ribs had provided! The corset was a decidedly unwelcome addition

to my wardrobe, but was definitely needed and so a long, compressing one became a normal part of my daily ensemble. At the same time the

ribs were removed, a dental surgeon had also extracted two molars on each side of my lower jaw and I was puzzled by this additional surgery,

but after a while gave it no thought, slowly growing accustomed to the gaps.


I’d always had a strong fascination with piercings and had already done my ear lobes, as well as a couple of decorative labia rings, but

these weren’t quite enough for my Master. After making frequent mention to him of my desire to get more, sometime later he informed me that

arrangements had been made for me to be additionally pierced and fitted with new and much more ‘permanent’ jewellery. Shuddering inwardly

with part-terror and part-delight at his use of the word ‘permanent’, I agreed.


His next revelation was that a few weeks after getting the piercings and having the jewellery emplaced, I would then be fitted with a

comprehensive, full body and limb restraint ensemble that would constantly restrain and control me as he required, seeing as how I was his

slave and possession. He informed me that he wanted to ensure I was always kept aware of my status, while at the same time knowing that his

own more severe requirements were being met in full measure. In our darkest, most secret pillow whispers, I’d asked for something like this

to happen and he’d promised to have me adorned with permanent ankle and wrist cuffs and a collar after we’d been married, as well as the

other pieces, but he hadn’t specified what these were to be. Now it was time and I was to have my wishes fulfilled in spades, but I began to

have second thoughts and wasn’t truly sure I wished to proceed, even after agreeing. However, he was adamant because his dreams and desires

were also to be realized and so it was entirely too late for me to back away. He was my Master and so if he required that I be fitted with

any particular item, or that I wear a certain type or style of clothing, then it was my unalterable command to execute as per his

direction.


The preceding is not to say that I’m spineless jelly or a totally subservient person, but I’ve recognized that I need some sort of strong

structure and stability in my life and so had come to understand and accede to his requirements. Unfortunately, I also have a rather short

temper at times and tend to become more than a little sharp-tongued when things don’t go in the direction I think they should. One would

think that at 22 years of age, most women understand and accept their monthly bouts of PMS; accommodating to them in their daily lives, but

mine have always been most distressing. I react badly to my monthly hormonal tides, becoming quite a bitch to live with during those times

and of course, Master became aware of this soon after we began our relationship. On far too many occasions, he’d been the recipient of my

ill-timed and intemperate comments and had finally reached the point that he informed me he was going to train me out of these outbursts and

behaviour patterns, or I would have to leave.


I accepted this ultimatum and agreed to abide by any of the conditions he decided to impose, for by that time I’d slipped deeply into my

role as his slave. Basically, my acceptance and agreement were foregone conclusions and truly, I had no option but to do as he wished.
/>

Until this point of our relationship, about a year and a half after getting married, he’d encouraged me to wear pretty much what I wanted,

but over the next six months, that facet of my life also began to evolve in new directions, and I wasn’t sure I liked where I was being

taken. He commenced these changes by insisting that from that point forward, I was always to wear skirts or dresses, then, the length and

weight of the skirts quickly grew longer and more restrictive. Within another three months I had no other clothing in my wardrobe than

floor-length garments and too, he insisted that I not wear any sort of panty, but only stockings and a garter belt, together with a minimum

of five cm heeled footwear, be it shoes or boots. He ensured that I did so by obtaining ankle strap shoes and boots that could be locked

onto my feet and this he did every day before leaving the house. They were only removed when we went to bed, although soon, even that

changed. More and more frequently, I wore some sort of footwear all night, every night, and although this took some getting used to, I

managed fairly well. The next stage of my training came when he gradually began increasing the height of the heels until soon I possessed

nothing shorter than 15 cm ones! Initially, these were very difficult to wear on a full-time basis and I didn’t like them at all, but having

them locked on, I could not escape them and so had no choice other than to endure as best I could, even though slowly becoming more and more

acclimatized. I sat as often as possible to ease the wearing of the footwear, but that too was also destined to change.


My upper body wasn’t ignored and his declaration that I was to begin wearing tight, constricting bras and turtle-necked types of tops at

all times was not happily received or complied with, however I wore them anyway, for I had nothing else available. Mother Nature had been

kind to me and I have a good figure: being some 1.6 metres tall, 55 kg in weight and with a nicely proportioned body. My bra size was 90 cm

with what is commonly referred to as a DD-sized cup, and combined with a narrow waist of 60 cm, now corseted down to 50 cm, and hips of 95

cm I knew that all of the men I met lusted after me. My hair was another matter. It used to be a thick, glossy black mane and below shoulder

length, but my crowning glory has become a thing of the past. I’m totally bald now and while I am still permitted to appear in public, had

to wear wigs all of the time. Master insisted that I become this way and at first, I was only shaved, but he spent a lot of money to have

all of my body and head hair completely and permanently removed, including my eyebrows and eyelashes! It was a long, drawn-out process and

not without some considerable discomfort and outright pain when my pubic hair was excised, but it was eventually accomplished. From that

point on I was only required to go for the laser electrolysis once a month and each succeeding visit grew shorter and shorter, for re-growth

of the hair roots was almost totally eliminated. Four months after I’d started, there were none left anywhere on my head, limbs or body.
/>

The clothing I was permitted to wear was about to become even more concealing and restrictive, but there were soon to be good reasons for

this change, and I definitely wanted it to be that way! After he’d seen pictures of how Saudi women were required to dress in public, Master

spent considerable time on the internet researching their costuming and how it could be obtained, and then some weeks after he’d begun his

research, a courier company began to deliver large, relatively light cartons to our home. He instructed that they were not to be opened and

of course, I was curious as to what the packages contained, so it was with great difficulty that I left them untouched, stacking them in the

basement.


I should explain here that Master is quite well off financially and that we live in a large home far out in the country, behind a high

wall. The 50 acres of land surrounding this small estate are well cared for by hired gardeners and so there is no need for us to do any sort

of maintenance. Before we met, he’d had the house modified to suit his desires and paid-off the assorted authorities to ensure that the

changes and additions never appeared either in the house plans held at the local municipality’s engineering office, or on the contractor’s

records.


Once I’d settled in, he took me on a tour and it was then that he revealed the secret playrooms, or, truth to tell, the dungeon and cell

complex that had been created. Initially, he’d had a deep trench dug and at its end about 150 metres behind the house, he’d had a large deep

hole excavated. Within it, a new and very substantial construction had been created, connected by a thick-walled tunnel to a vault-like door

hidden in one of the basement walls. All of the walls of the secret complex (both interior and exterior), the floors and the roof were made

of thickly re-barred concrete, 50 cm through, then, when everything was complete; the entire set of structures had been covered with five

metres of earth. Grass had been allowed to grow naturally and trees were planted in a random pattern, allowing nature to take its course as

the master camouflage artist. No one other than the construction crews that had built the place knew it existed and he’d ensured their

silence with substantial payments for signed secrecy papers.


The only entrance now to the hidden complex was via the thoroughly concealed vault door in the wine cellar, then the long tunnel to the

complex. Both ends of this connecting corridor were secured by a set of doubled doors: one of each set being a hollow, 10 cm thick, plain

steel slab that locked like a bank vault door and the other a tightly barred, inner one, two metres further along. All of these doors

required power to open or close and each had its own electronic lock with the default setting being that of staying locked until power was

restored and the correct combination used. I was frightened yet aroused by his security and secrecy arrangements, but came to love the edge

of horror and fear that his ingenuity and dedication had created. I was occasionally locked into one of the cells and left for the night,

but that was also to change and become more the norm, rather than the exception.


We lived alone with no children, close relatives, or other social encumbrances and were quite content with our lives. Master has a wide

selection of friends, although each seems to be in ‘the scene’ in one way or another. Before I came into his life he’d entertained

frequently, but that changed dramatically after we got married and we became, if not hermits, then almost anti-social. With his estate being

so isolated and concealed behind the high walls and locked gates, I occasionally got lonely and despite finding some solace and

companionship on the internet and TV, there was not much in the way of intellectual stimulation. They were however; better than nothing and

having a deep streak of curiosity in my make-up as well as being the benefactor of an excellent education with a Master’s degree in

biotechnology, I occasionally found things of interest.


That brings me up to date, and so you know a little of what my life was like at the beginning of my journey into total slavery and bondage.

I was about to discover just how well-connected and deeply into the realization of his fantasies Master truly was, for he’d taken a break

from his hobby job as a financial analyst, and intended to take me further along my path to becoming his completely-controlled

possession.



Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

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Best Selling Books This Year By JG Leathers

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Best Selling Books This Year By JG Leathers

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 Authors Suite

 Publishers Suite   

Affiliate Program

Contact Us

Terms and Conditions

Protection Policy

Privacy Policy

Refund Policy

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright Ó 2015