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Pamela Patoskie sat nervously at the table, two steaming cups in front of her. The first, the one closest to her, was filled to the brim with Chai tea, a latte, which had always appealed to her. It was a mixture of creamy milk and spicy tea, a combination that seemed symbolic in its own way, at least to Pam. She tucked a strand of her dark brown hair back behind an ear and then took a sip, relishing the flavor. She checked a small and delicate looking watch, strapped to her wrist, and took a deep breath.
Two minutes to go.
She glanced around the little shop. At that time of morning, it wasn’t very busy. The morning rush had subsided and there were only five other customers sitting in the lounge. She could tell that most of them were students from the university; their preppy, but casual appearance making her own attire seem slightly out of place. Tee shirts and loose shorts were the relaxed norm, while Pam was dressed in a blue, cotton blouse with buttons down the front. Her skirt, pleated folds of soft, white cotton, decorated with beryl colored swirls, made her look older than she was, and stiff. The new co-ed look was to make it seem like you didn’t care about your appearance. Pam looked her best. Her hair was combed and pulled back into a ponytail, her nails were painted a soft and conservative pink, and she wore a bit of makeup - around the eyes, to soften her gaze.
She watched him come in.
He was tall, and dark haired, and handsome, all of which fit the proverbial description perfectly. He wore a navy blue suit and a red tie that was patterned with criss crossing diamonds. Clearly in his mid-twenties, he was a man who exuded a level of confidence that Pam herself had never, ever felt. It looked like he owned the place. His eyes scanned the coffee shop just once, spotting her instantly. His mouth curled up into a smile and he bypassed the counter and immediately approached.
Pam swallowed. She was unsure what to do. In her moment of indecision, he took charge, planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, even as she started to rise, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“No pet. Sit,” he said softly.
She sat back down.
He looked at the second cup and sat down opposite her. His hand grasped the coffee and he took a sniff, smiling. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, taking a sip. He clearly enjoyed the taste, closing his eyes. “You remembered.”
Pam nodded. “Yes sir. One cream, two sugars.”
He smiled and put the cup back down. “That’s very good. I approve.”
Pam smiled tentatively. She kept her hands off the table and folded them in her lap. She waited, half terrified, half excited, wondering if he’d made the decision.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I know you’ve been a little worried, especially since it’s been a week, but I wanted to take everything into consideration, and not rush into anything. I’m sure you can appreciate that. There are certain responsibilities that come with such a contract and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t forgetting anything.”
She nodded, not exactly eagerly, but impatiently. “Yes sir. I totally understand. I’d be careful too.”
He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his suit coat pocket and she took a deep breath. She felt a quiver deep inside, her stomach twisting.
He unfolded the document. The type was small and he didn’t turn it around for her to read it. Instead he put a finger on the first line.
“I want to actually read this to you, so that there are no questions. This contract defines the basic rules and roles of our relationship. There has to be no doubt in your mind of my expectations when you sign this. It’s binding. You understand that?”
Pam nodded again. “Yes sir. I understand.”
He smiled. “Excellent. All right. Let’s begin. This first section is entitled ‘Slave’s Role’.” He began reading. “Pamela Patoskie, heretofore referred to as ‘slave’, agrees to submit completely to James Jackson Matthews, heretofore referred to as ‘master’, in all ways. There are no boundaries of place, time, or situation in which the slave may willfully refuse to obey the directive of the master without risking punishment, except in situations where the slave's veto (see section 1.0.1) applies. The slave also agrees that, once entered into the Slavery Contract, her body belongs to the master, to be used as he sees fit, within the guidelines defined herein. All of the slave's material possessions likewise belong to the master , including all assets, finances, and material goods, to do with as they see benefits the slave. The slave agrees to please the master to the best of her ability, in that she now exists solely for the pleasure of said master.” James looked up to see Pam’s expression. Her eyes were wide, but she’d stopped fidgeting.
“Do you understand those terms?” He asked simply.
She bit her lip. “No boundaries of place, time or situation?”
James smiled. “Exactly. For example, except during your time of the month, I will not allow you to wear panties. Your sex is mine, for my use and pleasure. I want it to be accessible at all times.” His smile turned a bit mischievous. “Are you wearing panties, pet?”
Pam gulped. “Yes, sir.”
“Master please, pet. You must use the appropriate title.”
“Yes, Master. I’m wearing panties.”
He grinned. “Well, as a sign for me, why don’t you take them off?”
Pam licked her lips. She felt a sudden rush of excitement. A small smile appeared on her lips and she bowed her head. “Yes Master,” she replied and began sliding from her seat. She started to rise and James’ hand came down on her wrist.
“Where are you going?” He asked curiously.
She blinked. “To the bathroom, sir. To remove my panties,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Hardly. Sit back down. You will remove them, surreptitiously of course, here. Fold them in your lap, and then place them on the table, between us.”
Pam’s face went white, then red, but she sat back down. She had no idea what the word “surreptitiously” meant, but she could guess. She glanced around, half mortified, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. She looked back at James, his face calm and expectant. She took a deep breath. Then, as “surreptitiously” as she could, she slid her thumbs under the white, pleated skirt, hooked them quickly on her panties, and then lifted her bottom off the seat. The pink cotton rolled down to her thighs and she quickly sat down again, this time unusually aware of the textures against her skin. She felt naughty, promiscuous even, for daring such a thing.
“That’s it, pet. Take them off,” James urged.
She glanced around again. Still no interest, so she pushed the material over her knees. She hurried, not wanting anyone to see what she was doing, and she slipped her feet out of the sandals she was wearing, making it easier to pull the underwear off. Finally, she managed to get it into her lap. It took her a moment to sort out the panoply of feelings she was experiencing. Embarrassment of course, humiliation at doing such a task in such a public place. But also excitement, a rush of adrenaline. A familiar scent came as well and she realized that she’d become aroused, her own sex betraying her. She was wet, and unabashedly so. She trembled slightly at the realization and looked down, now even more ashamed.
James grinned. “You feel it, don’t you?” He asked gently. “It’s one of the reasons I chose you. I could see it. Sense it. You respond positively to the humiliation. You are aroused by it.” He nodded. “Now fold them and complete the assignment.”
Pam squeezed her thighs together, feeling the moisture, but her fingers quickly folded the panties into a tight, barely recognizable square. It could have been a handkerchief. She pulled them out from under the table and set it on the surface with trembling fingers. James caught her hand as she pulled back, squeezing it comfortingly.
“Excellent. Pink too. Bikini cut?” He asked simply.
She nodded, her cheeks crimson.
“Very good,” he replied. Then, much to her horror, he began unfolding the panties, right there on the table. In seconds they had gone from being a neat, little square, unrecognizable, to being a lingerie display. He spread them out so that there was no doubt what was sitting on the table. She started to reach for them, but then stopped, her hand trembling as he held one finger up.
“That would not be wise. This is what I’m talking about. It is my right as master to embarrass you. To humiliate you. I want every man in this place to know that you are not wearing panties. I want them to imagine your wet pussy. I want them to be jealous of me. And I want it to excite you. You should respond physically to being desired, a sexual object.” She put her hand down and he tapped the contract. “Let’s continue, shall we?”
Pam nodded. She took a sip of her latte and tried not to think about her panties, her bare bottom, or the slow discharge of fluid from her quivering slit.
“The slave’s veto,” James said, reading aloud again. “The slave, where appropriate, holds veto power over any command given by the master, at which time she may rightfully refuse to obey that command. This power may only be invoked under the following circumstances, or where agreed by both master and slave. The slave may refuse when the command conflicts with any existing laws and may likely lead to fines, arrest, or prosecution of the slave. Where the command may cause extreme damage to a slave's life, such as losing their job, causing family stress, etc. Where said command may cause permanent bodily harm to the slave. And when the command may cause psychological trauma to the slave, such as a rape scene for a slave that has been raped in the past.”
Pam blinked in confusion. “I’m not sure I understood that.”
James smiled. “That’s alright. I’m here to explain everything. Basically, what this says is that you can refuse my commands for certain reasons. For example, if I told you to strip naked, right here, you could rightfully refuse the order.”
She glanced around. “Why?”
“Well, as much as I would love you naked right now,” he admitted with a chuckle, “this is a busy public place. There are laws about being naked here, in which you would be in violation, and the likelihood is that someone would call the police to complain. This order could possibly result in your arrest. So, you can refuse it.” He waved his hand. “But part of my responsibility as your master is to not be an ass,” he said playfully, making her smile. “I’d never order you to do something that would generate a high probability of you getting involved with law enforcement. Though admittedly, I will push that boundary. You will be naked in public places with me. I will just mitigate the potential negative consequences.” He paused. “For example, were we walking in an empty park, late in the evening, I would most certainly command you to strip naked. It is possible someone might come along and see you. The likelihood of police involvement would be negligible. Thus you will strip with no complaint. The slave’s veto wouldn't apply.”
Pam gulped. Then she nodded. “I see,” she said.
His head cocked to the side. “Do you?” He asked. “Prove it. Unbutton your shirt.”
Pam’s mouth dropped. “What? Here?”
“Yes. Here. All the way down.”
She glanced around. No one was paying attention. She leaned toward him. “But you said that it would be illegal!” She whispered.
“Stripping you naked would be. I have not ordered that. All I asked was that you unbutton your shirt. Exposing your breasts might result in us being asked to leave the shop, though I find that unlikely. The baristas here are both male and you are incredibly attractive. Besides, I can tell you’re wearing a bra. So, nothing will be exposed in any event.” He chuckled. “At least, not yet.” He leaned forward. “And you have to trust me. That’s part of this.”
Pam didn’t move. She was torn with indecision. The idea of it shocked her, but from the response between her legs, she was even more turned on. Slowly, her hands came up to her sternum. She found the first fastener and with delicate grace loosened it. Haltingly, her fingers went down the front of her shirt, exposing skin, then the lace of her brassier, then a bit of her smooth, young stomach. Finally, the front of her blouse parted and she turned slightly, away from the other customers, letting the open tails of her shirt hide her lace covered bosom.
“Very good,” James said smugly. “I have a present for you.” He produced a small box. It was too big to hold a ring, but it seemed like a similar sort of container. She opened it. Nestled in red velvet, was a black, egg shaped object. She touched it, confused.
“What is it?” Pam asked.
“A gift, for you,” James replied. “Remove it from the box please.”
She did. It felt solid, and a bit heavy.”
“Put the narrower end in your mouth,” James told her. “Suck on it.”
The look of surprise she gave him almost made him laugh. “What?” She asked incredulously. “Why?”
“Because it needs to be wet,” he said simply. “Suck on it like it’s a popsicle.”
Curious, but also skeptical, she licked the end. It tasted like rubber. Of course, she had to glance around the shop. One of the baristas was looking at her, an odd expression on his face.
She pulled the black colored egg-like thing away from her lips. “That barista,” she said to James. “He’s looking at me!”
James nodded. “Of course he is. You’re a beautiful girl, wearing a short skirt, whose panties happen to be sitting on the table, and your shirt is wide open. You also are sucking on a sex toy. Perhaps he recognizes it, and you, for what you are.”
Pam’s eyes widened as her cheeks turned beet red. She lowered her hand holding the toy, hiding it between her fingers. “What am I?” She asked softly.
“A beautiful, submissive woman, whose body will hopefully belong to me shortly, and whom I will make dizzy with hedonistic delight.” He pointed at the egg shaped sex toy. “Now, I won’t tell you again. Suck on the end of that thing. Now.”
Hesitantly, and with another glance back at the very interested barista, she put the egg back in her mouth. She watched him and a minute later, when he nodded, she pulled it out.
James smiled. “Is it wet?” He asked.
She looked down nervously. “Yes. I guess so.”
“Good. Then slip it between your legs and push it up into your pussy.”
Now her eyes really did widen. “You want me to do what?” She gasped.
“It goes in your pussy,” James repeated. “Please put it inside you.”
“Here? Now?”
He looked around. “There is nowhere else. You will do this. It does not violate the terms of this contract in any way and teaches you exactly what I mean.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, bewildered.
James smiled patiently. “Pet, your life with me will not be easy. Laziness is not something to encourage in anyone, so if you are under the impression that you will lie on a sofa all day long, watching daytime television and eating chips, you are mistaken.
A touch of anger flared in her eyes. “I didn’t think that,” she insisted.
“Good,” James allowed. “Part of your servitude will be just that, servitude. You will keep our living area clean. You will prepare the evening meal for us. I will provide a roof and material wealth to keep you safe and well fed.”
Pam shifted slightly. “Just cook and clean during the day?”
“No. Your purpose is not that of a housekeeper. You are a sexual slave. So while you will help out with the chores, which is a requirement for any relationship between two people, you will also be given sexual tasks each day to complete as well.”
Her eyebrow went up with curiosity and James chuckled. “You are inquisitive! I like that,” he said earnestly. “During the day I will test you. I might video chat with you, asking for you to pleasure yourself for me, or to present yourself. You might be instructed to complete some sexual task, such as purchasing a new sex toy at a store and wearing it out. I might require a picture of your bare body, or just your breasts, in a public venue. And of course, each day you will be required to wear a toy similar to the one in your hand, that should be in your pussy,” he said, nodding at the egg.
She swallowed. “What if I, uh, veto this?” She asked in trepidation. She held the egg in her hand.
James laughed. “You can’t veto it. It doesn’t violate any of the terms.” He shrugged. “You could refuse to obey though. Which I suppose brings us to our next section.” He lifted the paper. “Punishment. The slave agrees to accept any punishment the master decides to inflict, whether earned or not.”
Pam swallowed audibly. “Punishment? What kind of punishment?”
James shrugged. “Well, I prefer to use a variety of different corporal methods. You can expect me to whip your body of course, with a variety of instruments. There will be spankings, though I must warn you that spankings, regardless of whether delivered in public or private, will require you to bare your breasts and bottom. So, keep that in mind. I might bind you in an uncomfortable position and inflict appropriate and non-damaging amounts of pain to your body.” He smiled. “And of course, the worst thing I can do is deny you orgasm. I could put you in a chastity belt and arouse you. Then deny you satisfaction. That is the absolute worst thing that I can inflict upon you.” He sighed.
“What I won’t do is permanently damage your body. I will not deliberately draw blood, burn you, or strike you in a way that causes internal injury or a loss of consciousness, nor will I ever, for any reason, withhold the necessary materials for which you need to survive. You will always have food, water, and sunlight.” James smiled warmly.
“My job is to take care of you. You are a precious thing to me. I will never break you.” He waved his hand. “And on a personal note, I’m not one of those masters who likes to smack their slaves around. I will never strike your face, ever. If I slap you, it will be on the bottom or breasts or thighs. The cane or whip will only ever be applied to those areas as well, plus the bottoms of your feet. So, if you don’t want to start our relationship off already facing a brutal punishment, you will lick that egg again, and then immediately put it into your pussy.”
Pam lifted the black egg, her eyes locked on James. She stuck her tongue out and licked it. He nodded in appreciation.
“More. Lick it good. Wet the entire end.”
She did, trying hard not to look back at the barista. She didn’t want to know. Then, feeling that the egg was wet enough, she pulled it away and slid it beneath the table. Spreading her knees, she felt the gushing wetness of her pussy and whimpered slightly. Her hand moved up her leg and she practically jumped when the saliva slicked end of the toy touched her slit. She rubbed it up and down, only to realize she was panting with need. She tried to control herself, but it was so hard!
“Rub it against your clit and up and down your slit,” he insisted. “I suspect you’re already wet enough. Make it a caress. I want to see you close to the edge. Masturbate with it until you can’t resist thrusting it in deep.”
She kept a steady gaze on him as she began to slip the egg up and down her slit, moistening it far better with her own juices, than with her mouth. Soon she felt the tell-tale surge of need and she let out a soft gasp. She moaned as she pushed the egg in a bit deeper.
“Perfect. Keep going. Just rub until you can’t take it, until you have to push it in deep. I can guarantee you that sex toys of all kinds will become a daily routine for you. I have a whole assortment of objects to keep you wet and ready. You will be tested. Frequently. Get used to being wet and desperate.”
Pam gasped, eyes widening as she thrust the egg shaped object into her slit. His voice was practically hypnotic and his promise of non-stop arousal seemed too good to be true. Her hips tilted upward and she moaned, her body clenching at the incredible sensation of being filled. Her pussy gushed and her thumb grazed her clit. She used two fingers to force the egg in even deeper and her entire body shuddered with mind-numbing pleasure.
“There. See?” James chided. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Pam sat there, her luscious, full breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath the lace bra, exposed by the open front of her shirt. James admired her, his eyes going to her cleavage. He reached into a pocket and brought out a small, black key fob with a series of buttons on it. He set it down on the table. Pam looked at it in curiosity, bringing both hands back up into view. The fingers of her right hand were glistening. She lifted her cup off the napkin beneath and wiped herself clean.
“You said that you could punish me at any time, earned or unearned,” she said.
James nodded. “Yes. This is true, though I’m not fond of calling something a punishment if you haven’t been disobedient. Think of it more as torment. For a sexual slave, punishment and torment are frequently the same thing. Imagine yourself bound with your legs open, your bare sex waiting for the kiss of a whip. The difference is how the session will end. If you are sobbing and hurting, wishing in your heart that you’d obeyed my commands, then it has been a punishment. If you are begging me to let you cum, your veins afire with need, then it has been a torment. Do you understand?”
Pam nodded. Her entire body was tense, the egg shaped toy buried in her slit deeply. For a moment she thought she could feel the tingle of a whip caressing her between the legs, and she wondered what it would feel like.
“Besides, if I truly wish to punish you, I will deny you pleasure. It’s that simple.” He sighed. “The next section of the contract deals with my responsibilities,” James explained, pointing at the paper. He didn’t mention the small object with buttons that he’d set down next to it. “The master accepts the responsibility of caring for the slave's mental and physical health, and worldly possessions, to the best of his ability. The master also accepts the commitment to treat the slave properly, to train the slave, punish the slave, love the slave, and use the slave as they see fit.”
“Train me?” She asked curiously.
James nodded. “There are certain expectations of a slave. You will learn a number of positions that I will ask you to assume at various times. You will be taught specific techniques such as cocksucking and proper forms for masturbation. There will be endurance training. But most importantly, your demeanor will be adjusted to suit your new role. You must act sexy. Every moment you are around me, or anyone else, there should be no doubt that you are a sex object. You are made to be used in that manner. Your pussy is there to please others, and by pleasing others, you yourself will find satisfaction. There will be no moments where you aren’t my sexual plaything. If we are together then you will be ready for me to use you. You will want me to use you. It is your purpose.”
James looked up at her. “That also makes you a cherished possession. I would treat you like a family heirloom - something to be protected, cared for, but also admired, relished, and used. Frequently. I require your submission to my needs, and in return, I will satisfy yours.” He put a finger on the black object lying on the table, next to the paper, and pressed one of the buttons.
Inside Pam, the egg shaped object began to vibrate. It was soft at first, but due to her lack of experience with such an event, it felt like lightning. She gasped, eyes closing as waves of sweet pleasure streamed up from her sex. She could barely sit still. Her hips began thrusting, her entire body grinding as she was pushed straight toward the cliffs of orgasm, her inhibitions wiped away by the intensity of the sensation. She let out a whimper, lips pressed tight together, shuddering as she tried to hold it all in.
“Pamela, if you sign this contract, and you accept your role properly, and please me, I can assure that there won’t be a day you won’t cum. Some days you’ll come often. You will learn the needs of your body and I will take you to heights of sexual satisfaction that you didn’t even know existed.” Then James tapped the control again and the vibrations stopped. Pam gasped, first in wanton need, then in disappointment. The look she gave him smoldered.
James laughed. “Want more?”
She nodded desperately. “Yes Master!”
“Your bra. Remove it.”
Pam's mouth dropped. For a long moment his eyes held hers. Then, with delicate grace, her hands went to her shirt. Slowly, she began to pull her arm out of her shirtsleeve. James' eyes widened as the cotton fell, baring her shoulder. She made no effort to hide herself. Her eyes were only for James. Now it wasn’t just the barista looking at her. Everyone in the small coffee shop was. The shirt dropped behind her and she sat there in just her bra and skirt, looking only at him. Then, she reached behind her back. The clasp came loose, and the lace cupping her lush, creamy breasts dropped. She slid the straps down, baring her bosom, the pink tips of each mound like a mountain flower on top of a snow covered hill. She pulled the bra off, set it down on the table next to her unfolded panties.
James stared. Then, with the same grace, she lifted her shirt and began putting it back on, threading her small wrist into the sleeve, then the other, until she was covered once more. But she didn’t button it. In fact, she didn’t even close up the front. Both magnificent breasts hung in full view.
“Very good,” James said thickly. He licked his lips, still somewhat taken aback. Her eyes smoldered and he lifted the small controller. He pressed the button and the egg within her sex spun up, vibrating. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment and then she moved, a slow, infectious sway that started at her hips. The soft roll soon became a thrust and her delightful breasts bounced.
“Where do I sign?” She asked breathlessly.
James looked down at the paper. “Well, there’s just one more thing to discuss. Termination of the contract.”
“Okay,” Pam replied, her voice thick with tension.
James cleared his throat. “This contract cannot be terminated except at the sole discretion of the master. The slave has no right, except in conjunction with the slave’s veto, to sever the connection. This contract will last for one year and can be renewed or dissolved by either the slave or the master at that time. All property previously entrusted to the master’s care will then be returned.”
Pam shrugged. “I don’t have much. Just some clothes.”
“You won’t need them,” James immediately replied. “I will purchase you clothes that suit your new role. Rest assured they will display you nicely and make it clear that you are a sex object. At my apartment, you will remain naked for the most part, though I will provide you with some attire that will only exemplify your otherwise nude state.”
She smiled, a totally wicked smile and James noticed that the movement of her breasts now matched the roll of her hips. She was getting close again.
“Really?” She asked breathlessly. “What will I wear?”
James was ready. He reached into his pocket and drew out a chain. It was black and he laid it on the table. “These,” he replied simply.
She reached out and picked the chain up. It was only eight inches long, but each end was capped with a black, rubber tipped, duckbill clamp. Tiny screws allowed the pressure to be adjusted. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but then she pinched the first clamp open, and brought it up to her nipple.
“Try to set it deep, away from the actual tip,” advised James. “You’ll be able to tolerate the discomfort better.”
Pam took a deep breath and then let the clamp close on her nipple. A pained look crossed her face and she whimpered, letting go. The bright pink tip of her breast was fully crushed in the rubber coated jaws of the clamp and she slid her fingers down the chain, letting the full weight of it dangle from just one tit, before lifting up the other clamp.
“That’s it. Put it on,” James urged her. He watched, his hand going down to his lap to adjust his growing erection. “My God, you’re beautiful!” He said in amazement. The clamp bit down, chewing on her other breast and she moaned, tilting her head back and to the side, the sleek lines of her young throat and chest drawing rapt attention. She ran her fingers down between her breasts, to her stomach, and then even further down, under the table and James knew that she was touching herself. She shuddered, a wave of pleasure.
“One more thing before we sign the contract,” James said softly. All eyes in the coffee shop were on Pam, watching as she twitched and swayed, her hips dancing in the seat.
“Yes master?” She panted.
James straightened in his seat. He seemed taller, more confident, and very dominant. “You must ask, beg even, for permission to cum. Every time. Your orgasms belong to me. Even if I’m not present, you must contact me for permission. If I don’t respond, that means you are denied the pleasure.” He leaned closer. “And if you cum anyway, that will be grounds for punishment.”
Pamela looked at him, her body a riot of sensation. It no longer mattered to her that the barista was watching, or the other guests. One was even a woman! No one said a thing as her clamped titties rose and fell, the black chain against ivory skin dancing with each breath. Her loins cried out for release and her pussy convulsed, spasms of delight rippling through her sex.
“Master?” She breathed. “Master, please? Please let me cum? Can I please cum?” She begged him.
James stretched his arm across the table, his fingers snagging the chain hanging from her breasts. He lifted it slightly, putting just a tiny bit of tension on it. “Ask me again,” he said.
Pamela almost melted. She was so close. “Please Master! I’m not sure I can hold off! Please can I cum?”
James was silent, watching as her body began to twist and shudder, the wave of pleasure a tsunami of sensation. Then, just as she was about to give in, regardless of his answer, he smiled. “Sure pet. Cum.”
Pam gasped, closed her eyes, and let out a soft cry of passion. Her shoulders hunched and her knees slammed together. Both hands went down to her groin, pressing hard on her sex, right through the material of her skirt. Her pussy clamped hard around the vibrating egg and with his left hand, James turned up the vibrator, knowing it would prolong and intensify her climax. And then, just as she reached a pinnacle, he yanked on the chain, ripping the rubber tipped clamps right off her well bitten nipples.
Pamela cried out, her hands coming up to her breasts as the pain rocked through her. But it was nothing compared to the force of her orgasm, and the little shards of agony were swept up with the pleasure, adding spicy to the sweetness and sending her even further into orbit. She sat there, rigid and frozen, her tender, young body a vessel, filled with euphoria. Slowly she came down, floating, her brain barely functioning. She opened her eyes and when she looked down the contract was there, James’ name already penned and inked. Her name, along with a blank space, lay ready and waiting to be signed. A pen sat beside the contract, as did the nipple clamps.
She glanced up at him and he held up the small controller. She felt the vibrations between her legs slow and then stop and she tried to suppress the shudder.
“I’ve explained to you my requirements. They are non-negotiable. You only have two choices. Sign, or do not sign. The orgasm you just experienced, as well as the toy inside you, and even those clamps, are a gift if you choose to walk away.”
Pam licked her lips. For a long moment she looked at him, but then she glanced away from the intensity of his gaze. She lifted a hand and set it on the table, right next to the clamps and chain. She fiddled with them. James, for the first time, felt a moment’s trepidation. Was she going to sign the contract? Her hand moved toward the pen, but then went back to the clamps.
“These are for me?” She asked softly, caressing the black metal chain.
James' throat closed up. “Yes,” he said. His heart fell as she picked them up. But then he became confused as she began attaching them, once more, to her own breasts. Pam’s eyes closed and she winced slightly, setting the clamps further back. Then, to James’ surprise, she began tightening them until her little nipples were just pink points of crushed sweetness. He could see the pain in her eyes.
Pam looked up at him. She pushed the front of her blouse open and thrust her chest forward. The chain hit the table and made a rasping noise. “And these,” she said simply. “Are for you.” She held her breasts up to him for a long moment.
“Are they?” James asked.
Pamela Patoskie nodded. She let go of her bosom and picked up the pen. With swift, easy movements, she signed her name at the bottom of the paper. James pulled the contract back from her. He tucked it into his pocket, then picked up her panties. He folded them and in seconds, they too disappeared. Then he grabbed her lace bra and bunched it up, shoving it into the inner works of his suit coat. Only the controller to the egg inside her law on the table.
“You have quite an adventure ahead of you,” he said with delight. “As do I. Are you ready now, or do we need to go back to your family’s house to get anything you need?”
Pamela shook her head. “No Master. I’m ready now. I am yours.”
James grinned. “Yes. Yes you are.”