The Conceit

 

"No way. Can't be done."

"Are you saying you can't do it?"

"It's either in you or it's not. Like religion."

"All it takes is the right person to draw it out. After all, every relationship is dominant-submissive."

"That's true. So where does that leave us?"

"You mean, who's sub and who's dom?" She gave him a sly smile.

"I mean with this philosophical riddle. You still think you can take anyone at random and turn them into a slave?"

"Not just me, anyone can. Even you."

He glowered. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

She waved a hand in the air. "Don't be insulted. I didn't mean your abilities come up short. We both know they don't." She smiled again, this time with a fetching blush.

He nodded in acceptance of the delayed compliment, also remembering the night before and how well he cropped her ass. The marks still hadn't faded, he knew, by the way she gingerly sat on the edge of a wooden chair at the outdoor café. He sat back in his own chair, for the moment placated.

"What I meant was," she said, "even someone with an initial reluctance for this, uh, shall we say proposition? Challenge?"

"Search," he said.

She considered and nodded. "Yes, a search. Even a hesitant participant in the dom role could still turn a random subject into a crawling slut."

"I'll grant you the point," he said. "But where's the tension? You want to train an SM virgin into a slave. So do I. So the premise is accepted. But what is the ultimate goal?"

She thought again for a moment. "The goal? The goal?" She stared off into the distance, then, in sudden revelation, her eyes lit up in determination. "Why, to become an addition to our family, of course."

His eyebrows raised. "Are you sure? It might be too soon -"

"Better too soon than too late."

Now he took time to consider. "I see your point."

"And it has to be a woman. Male slaves have their own special qualities, but I just don't see one joining our special family unit."

"I agree. A woman," he said. "One of suitable age."

He sipped at his bloody mary. "If I went along with this... Wait a minute, if things don't work out; is this just a ploy to get a little tail of your own?"

She blushed and smiled again. "Well...just a little. We just don't know what might happen, do we?"

He nodded, glad he caught her out, even in a small way. "Well, I'll grant the whole concept has a certain appeal. And you're right; the time is now. Now, as to who... How about that business-suited one at that table over there? She looks suitably repressed and is probably dying to let those tits bust loose. Or maybe even our run-off-her feet waitress? She's got a nice set."

"Random, my dear. Not who has the biggest knockers. Random."

A young, fresh girl strode by. Nice face, decent figure. Short, red hair.

He pointed after her. "She'll do."

The Seduction

 

Louise

 

I had to move fast, or else I'd lose sight of my little prey. Her step was quick, like she had to be somewhere, but then she would stop and linger over a rack of mediocre clothes or a table of gaudy Chotski's from some street vendors, then hustle away when the vendors started to hustle her. I couldn't be obvious, couldn't appear like I was running her down (which I was). At last I caught up with her at a hole in the wall pizza shop.

She stood at the counter, patiently (a good sign for what awaited her), then got just the biggest, greasiest slice of pizza ever made (and I would make sure that would stop. I liked her figure, but she wouldn't keep it for long eating junk like that). Her tiny, luscious mouth assaulted the doughy triangle, masticating almost more than she could handle. She walked straight toward me, then quickly sidestepped, not even giving me a second glance. She already made a beeline for out the door and I steeled myself to hold back, lest I follow too soon. But I couldn't lose her! It had been decided she was the one, and if a random choice was to mean anything, then I had to find out something about her, some piece of information so that -

"Hey, Heather!" a boy coming in called out.

She replied, "Tyson!" He almost ran right into her at the door. (I turned my head, held up my hand to hide my face. Nearly blew the whole thing right there. The boy was handsome in a naïve way - tousled, dark hair, nice build. I had a brief thought of someday getting him at the end of my chain, but quickly squelched that thought.)

They exchanged hugs, getting caught up with each other. I strained to catch what was said, but then it was my turn at the counter. Distracted, I ordered something with cheese on it and was rewarded with a piece on a thin paper plate not unlike the one Heather was struggling to finish. I wrapped a scarf over my head and donned big sunglasses as I "wandered" over to a stand up counter opposite the cash register, right behind Heather.

"...a bunch of us are going. Wanna come?" the boy said.

"I don't know," Heather said. "I got, like, things, y'know?"

Like, things, y'know. And she's going to become a high class pleasure slave? I could see already I had my work cut out for me.

They talked some more, Tyson eventually wearing Heather down until she made a half-promise to show up at some dance club that night. Then she was gone. But I got the name of the club.