That night left her clitoris rubbed raw by her vibrator. John had occupied every
space of her erotic fantasy all night. She had been hanging in a cage suspended from the
roof. She had been milked like a cow by him. She had been whipped, molested, prodded,
poked and fucked more than a lifetimes worth. 
      She sent John an e-mail before having breakfast. 
      “Hello John.
      Sarah here. I just wanted you to have my e-mail address. I’d love to meet you
again. I had a lot of fun.”
      This wasn’t the first draft. She rewrote it many times; the final version having
all specifics of sexual acts stripped from it. It had all specifics of any kind stripped
from it. She thought it was safest. 
      Her ex-husband, Barnard was still sleeping in the living room sofa when Sarah went
to have breakfast. She snuck back into her bedroom/studio to paint before he woke up. If
she was lucky he would leave before she came out for lunch. This was her routine right
now. Love had died a long time ago and now they were forced to live together for economic
reasons. And she hated it. The only difference between today and a week ago was that today
they weren’t pretending to be in love any longer. It annoyed her that the breakdown of her
marriage hadn’t made her sad or upset one bit. It actually filled her with rage, because
all that meant was that she had been whipping this dead horse for far too long. Barnard
was devastated. To him this all came as a complete surprise, which only made her resent
him all the more. But at least he was gracious about it. Maybe he hoped that by doing
everything in his power to make life as pleasant for her as possible would win her back. 
      Even her painting was shit today. 
      It didn’t take many hours for John to answer. 
      “Good. I like you too. I suggest a dinner this Saturday.”
      
      John had a way of asking questions that weren’t really questions. As it happens the
dinner was to be at his place. He said he would have a restaurant deliver to his
apartment. He opened the door, looking much like he had when they first met. He took her
coat. 
      “I’ll show you around. You don’t need to take your shoes off. I think the
high-heels make your legs all the sexier.”
      He wasn’t holding back. His apartment turned out to be huge, with high-ceilings and
chandeliers in all the rooms. It was bigger than the entire kinky club where they had met.

      “But I only really live in these three rooms.”
      He indicated the bedroom, living room and kitchen. For such an out and open kinky
person his home seemed utterly devoid of kinky things. She didn’t dare ask about sex toys.
She would need some wine first. The dinner was already on the dining table and they sat
down to eat.
      “Have you ever considered living as a slave full time?”
      She noticed that her pinkness was under control this time, in a way it hadn’t been
at the club. 
      “Not seriously. Only in my fantasies.”
      “What’s the point of fantasies if we don’t at least attempt to make them real?”
      He was moving very fast. She lifted her wine glass. 
      “Here’s to pursuing our dreams.”
      They toasted. It was an excellent wine, much better than she could ever remember
drinking. 
      “I’ll be frank. I’ve been in the kinky scene now for, I don’t know, eighteen years.
By now I have a fairly good handle on what I’m looking for in a romantic relationship. I
understand this is all new to you and I’d love to explore this world with you. But for
this to get serious, in any way, I need to know that your goal is to be a committed and
obedient slave. ”
      The nerve of the man. Who the fuck does he think he is? 
      He continued. 
      “That’s of course down the road. First we need to get to know each other.”
      After dinner he took her to his bedroom. He opened a massive cabinet and it was
filled to the brim with devious and delightful sex toys, some of which she had never
seen.
      “I buy pretty much everything I see. Most of this I have never used. I really need
to sort through it one day. There’s a lot of junk. ”
      He pulled out a drawer filled with only dog collars. He held one up in front of her
neck. It was black, studded with metal rivets all around with one big d-ring in the front.

      “This one can be yours if you want it.”
      He walked out into the living room and put it on stand. 
      “If you put it on then I’ll know you’ll be totally obedient and I can do with you
as I will. If you take it off, then you’re free.”
      “So why not put it on my neck now?”
      He paused and gave her a hungry look. 
      “First, take your clothes off.”
      “All of it?”
      “All of it.”
      She wasn’t sure why she so willing to let her be manipulated like this, but she was
far too curious to see where this was going not to obey. While she stripped she couldn’t
look into his piercing eyes. Waves of excitement shot through her body. 
      “There’s no need to keep your hands over your belly. You’re beautiful. Keep them to
your sides.”
      She knew she was a bit pudgy. Not fat, but a far cry from being in shape. She had
been beautiful when she met Barnard, before letting herself fall into ruin. Single life
had made her more aware of her bodily defects than she had ever been when with Barnard.
Her shame of the state of her body only added to the humiliation and excitement of having
to strip in front of him. Now she didn’t even have the padded bra to add some girth to her
tiny breasts. At least the apartment was well heated. That was some cause for comfort. 
      John let his hands trail her small breasts, down her stomach and along her thighs.
A finger stroked her bush.
      “Beautiful. Before meeting me you’ll need to shave your pussy from now on.”
      She looked down. 
      “I do shave.”
      “All of it. I don’t want to see a trace of hair.”
      Did he want her to look like a porn star? She just wasn’t a porn star. He could
just keep hoping. But shaving her pussy wasn’t such a sacrifice. But she drew the line at
dying her hair blond. No self-respecting painter was blond. 
      “Go into the bathroom and shave it all off. You’ll find everything you need in
there.”
      She was overcome by a peculiar need to obey. She couldn’t figure out if she did it
because of curiosity or if he was bringing out some sort of innate nature already present.
Regardless the situation was making her more excited than she could ever remember being.
Her entire body now tingled. He had old fashioned shaving gear lined up in perfect rows on
a glass console. She hadn’t shaved her pussy like this since she was a teenager. Barnard
had liked it with a landing strip, so that’s how she kept it. Her clitoris was now
throbbing with excitement. Covering herself in lather, she couldn’t help but brush her
clit a bit more vigorously than necessary, and she was suddenly overcome by an orgasm. Her
legs couldn’t keep her standing and she staggered backward onto the toilet seat. Oh, dear.
I’ve never cum that fast before. This evening was shaping up just fine, and it wasn’t even
late yet. As the narrow lawn was sheared away by the ebony handle security razor, she felt
a peculiar sense of victory. It was as if she was physically stripping away the last
vestiges of her relationship to Barnard. Oh, why do I loathe him so much? He’s a sweet
guy. She had such a storm of conflicting emotions raging within her now. She came out to
John with a sheepish look about her. This is what she had dreamt of for years and now when
it was happening her mind was elsewhere! 
      “Is something wrong?”
      “I don’t know. Maybe too perfect too fast?”
      “Don’t be too hard on yourself. This is all new to you. And you just came out of an
eight year old long relationship. Come with me, I want to show you something.”
      She trailed after him her naked feet slapping against the floor. As they left the
living room her eyes followed the dog collar. I want it so badly. Do I want it? What was I
doing? Did I have a choice but to follow my sexual desires? At this point, it was succumb
or suffer. Yes, I want the collar. 
      He showed her into a very large room, with some sort of beige-brown patterned
wallpaper. The sun was pouring in through the big windows, serving as the only light. The
few pieces of furniture huddled in the middle of the room were all covered in white sheets
like some sort of children’s fort. 
      “This used to be the drawing room. It’s too large for me so I’ve never used it. If
you would be my slave you could use it as a studio. It’d be all yours to do with as you
please. Hands.”
      Without thinking about it her hands had crept in front of her stomach. She quickly
pulled them to her sides as if this had been some sort of heinous offence, completely
ignoring the fact that John had her standing naked, with a newly shaven pussy in front of
him, as if this was completely normal. At least the windows were overlooking the wide main
street outside, which meant that those on the other side would need advanced spying
equipment to see her in this state. 
      “Good girl.”
      This was all moving way too fast for Sarah. Right now in her life she was painting
in a small shared apartment with the walls saturated with resentment. Of all the bribes
John could possibly jangle in front of her eyes, this was probably the greatest. On top of
showing promise of this being her greatest sexual adventure of her life. Come to think of
it, she had almost no idea what John meant when he said “slave”.  John’s heels echoed as
John walked around the room leaving her by the door. 
      “Nice, isn’t it?”
      “When you say, ‘if I was your slave’ what do you mean by that?”
      “You would give up all freedom.”
      Sarah’s entire being reeled back in horror. Was he a complete loon? What woman
would agree to that? She didn’t want to be rude so she let him continue. 
      “You would live with me here catering to my every need and obey my every command. 
I also demand that you aren’t afraid to have your own opinions about things and that you
let me know when I’m being an idiot. The last bit is the most important one.”
      That last bit made her suspect he wasn’t quite the monster he first made himself
out to be. She felt she needed to ask. 
      “And what if I don’t obey?”
      He walked up to her looking her square in the eye. 
      “That’s not a simple question to answer. First off, if you are to be my slave you
must enjoy obeying me and you must enjoy pleasing me. Otherwise this lifestyle would be
quite impossible for us both. Do you enjoy obeying and pleasing others? ”
      Sarah ransacked her soul for a spell before answering. 
      “I honestly don’t know.”
      She wanted to add, ‘right now I’m thinking giving up sex all together and devoting
the rest of my life to knitting in a rocking-chair in front of Oprah,’ but thought better
of it. Even though she’d never agree to all his crazy ideas she might get to enjoy herself
before he catches on. John gave her one of his creepy reassuring smiles. 
      “Assuming you have chosen to be my slave and you do your best to obey but fail me
somehow anyway, you will be whipped.”
      A little voice inside her told her to grab her clothes and run as fast as she could
before ending up mutilated in a dumpster. Another little voice nailed her feet to the
floor. John walked past her out of the large room and into the living room again. It took
a while for Sarah’s feet to come unstuck but eventually she plodded after him into the
living room. She found him sitting in a brown stuffed leather couch. He pointed to a table
covered with various alcoholic beverages. 
      “Pour me a whiskey. Feel free to help yourself to anything you want.”
      She sat down next to him with the two tumblers. He pointed to the floor. 
      “No, you’re sitting on the floor. We wouldn’t want your pussy juice all over the
furniture, now would we? ”
      Again she flushed. But this time it wasn’t shame. It was indignance. Who the fuck
did he think he was? She only flinched for a second, and took her place at the floor in
front on him sitting on her knees. 
      “Good girl.”