Part 7 Surprisingly, as I’d been naked most of the day, I was suddenly very aware of my body. The weight of my breasts shifted toward my armpits, and I felt his breath waft lightly across my lower belly. “Offer yourself,” He commanded. Somehow, my body knew He expected my legs to splay, my cunt open and pulsing slowly in response to his visual inspection. I also knew to keep my hands at my side, resisting the urge to cover myself in any way. “Hmmm…” I didn’t know if the verbalization showed curiosity, satisfaction, or disapproval, but I did nothing in response. Cool metal traced the crease on the outside…

Part 6 He pulled out the chair beside me, sat down, and placed His napkin on His lap. A servant entered, asked a few quiet questions, left, and returned, but, at no time, even once He began to eat, did He appear to notice me…not even a sideways glance. I considered speaking, but held my tongue. My silence was likely expected. As the feeling left my feet in a rising crescendo of tingles, the position I held was becoming painful. I tried to move my feet imperceptibly, subtly lifting off of my heels just enough to give them relief. I’d never thought kneeling would be so difficult, but at least…

Part 5 There was a light knock at the door. “Miss?” “Yes?” I sat up in the bath, instinctively covering my breasts as the young woman walked in. Apparently, she was to be my shadow, popping round whenever and wherever. “Master says I am to cut your hair before dinner.” She held a tray with shining stainless steel scissors and a silver comb. “He says it’s part of the letting go.” It made sense, I supposed, but I hadn’t been expecting it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about shearing my long tresses, but… The young woman set the tray on the bathroom counter, and as I slipped out of the…

Part 4 The large room was a brilliant white. The walls, the furniture, the bedspread. Everything pure as the driven snow. Except me. As much as I’d wanted to leave everything behind, there was no leaving what was inside of me. All the memories and experiences and insecurites and worries. All those things were right under my skin waiting to erupt and fuck this whole thing up. But, he’d promised he could make those things matter less. Maybe even not matter at all. He promised to help me forget. Said he was a master at what he called “disappearance.” That he could make the person I was give way like…

Part 2 The smooth leather was cool and shocking beneath my naked behind as I glanced periodically over my shoulder, biting my lip in shame, and slid into the backseat of the spotless black Mercedes sedan. The driver didn’t even pick up my clothing before walking around the back of the car, finding his place in the driver’s seat. He pressed the speaker in his ear for better hearing, I imagine, and then responded to what I could only imagine was the voice of my proprietor, “Yes, I have her…yes…clean…she looks just as you would expect.” The words validated me somehow, and I blushed a bit in both shame, at…

Part 1 I took the proffered pieces of clothing and headed back toward the dressing room, returning to the register in a simple black sleeveless shift dress with a black cardigan and black slip-on flats. Underneath: black lace bralette and matching panties. That was all. “If you’d like to tie your hair back, I have bands for that,” the shop girl noted. “Yes, I think that would be perfect, thank you.” She handed me a cardboard card with several bands wrapped around it. I took one, smoothed back my hair and alternated the pony tail through each hand a few times before wrapping the band around the base a few…

He’d told me to look down, that I’d find it there in the station–a red balloon–though I didn’t expect it to be a two-dimensional image. I thought I’d find it, a day or two beyond bouyancy, meandering along the floor. He told me to keep my eyes on it once I found it, not to look up regardless of the pull. He said I should find a blue bench near the front entrance and sit. And so I did. I sat on that blue bench, waiting maybe three hours, absently pulling at a loose thread in my black tights until I’d caused a run that snuck underneath the hem of…

Someone else might look at you and miss the signs. But, I don’t even have to see them. I feel your eyes on me, demanding action. It’s up to me to figure out what that might be, which usually leads to a moment of fluttery panic inside…what does he want…what should I do…what if it’s wrong….  You’re somewhat patient, I’ll give you that. But, you’re unforgiving. If I don’t get it quickly, I’m likely to end up over your knee, paying for it in pounds of hot, blushing skin. So here we are, on the couch in our sweats, your gaze shifts suddenly, and my body, trained to hyper-awareness, begins…