Emmy’s Adventures Pt. 03

Literotic asexstories – Emmy’s Adventures Pt. 03 by beygaze1,beygaze1
The Association was the shorthand for a group with a very long name. It had been founded in the years before the Civil War as a source for White sex-slaves. With the 13th Amendment the Association removed the “White” qualification and became a fully inclusive sex slave regulator. It existed hidden, with many powerful people secretly members and owners. It thrived in the wide open days of the late 19th century, but had to maintain a low profile as they were threatened with exposure in the 1920s. One of the reforms that came in the 1920s was the requirement that all new slaves must be enslaved voluntarily and sign official papers saying so. “Voluntarily” was never clearly defined, only that the signatures were really hers was important.

Thursday, May 25, 1978

1-Waking Up and Signing Papers

Emmy stirred. She looked out the window and saw rain. No reason to go out. An ache in her pussy reminded her of last night. She had had sex and she had lost her virginity to the man of her childhood dreams. She ached all over, really. Every muscle had been tensed last night; every bit of her body had felt the pleasure.

But, Chester Bradley wasn’t here. He hadn’t gotten sick of her already, had he? Run off to some work meeting, or whatever excuse she saw men use in the movies. No, he was cooking. She could smell bacon, her stomach rumbled. A few other bodily functions required attention, too, and the beautiful young woman hurried to the bathroom. The closest one was right off the bedroom and featured a full makeup table. But, she had more immediate needs. Emmy was not too surprised to see that he had a padded toilet seat. She enjoyed the novelty of sinking down as she sat down. He certainly enjoyed the little pleasures in life.

As she used the toilet, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Go ahead and shower,” he told her. “Take your time, dear.”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, thrilled at the sound of his voice.

Emmy was pleased to find that this bathroom was well stocked with feminine bathroom supplies. There was cold cream, which she used to remove the rest of her makeup from last night, and all sorts of moisturizers and soaps. She had not seen many of these and played around with various combinations as she enjoyed a long, hot shower. He had much better water pressure than she had at home. and she enjoyed how it worked on her tired muscles.

When the curvy blonde finished with the shower, she rubbed moisturizer all over her young flesh. She wanted to be desirable for Sir, for everything to be perfect. She added a light layer of makeup, highlighting her green eyes. She decided to wear her hair down.

Since there were no clothes, all she had was the dress from last night and was not sure where that was, she came out of the bathroom naked. Besides, it was not like she had any secrets from this man. Emmy put her hair in front, covering her breasts. She looked at herself in the mirror like, then with her hair in the back and boobs out. She decided to go with boobs out, offering herself to him again whenever he wanted her. Hopefully. after bacon.

Chester Bradley was in the kitchen, facing the stove and putting the finishing touches on whatever he was doing. He was fully dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt. Emmy took a moment to look him up and down, she figured she had earned the right. And he filled out those jeans great.

“Good morning, Sir,” Emmy said perkily.

“Afternoon,” Chester Bradley corrected. “It’s already 3pm.” He looked over at her and smiled. “You are as beautiful as last night.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she beamed at the compliment.

“Have a seat,” he motioned to the table. “It will be finished momentarily.”

“Sir?” she said.

“Yes, Dear?”

“Thank you for, for last night. It was all I could have wanted for my birthday.”

“It was, and I mean this truly and honestly, my pleasure,” he brought two plates to the table. The tall man sat one in front of her and the other in front of himself. Emmy was once again struck by how handsome he was, that broad chest, those chiseled features…

“Sorry for being naked at the table,” Emmy apologized. Her mother would not approve. “But I don’t have anything else here.”

“I like you better this way,” he said. “Eat up, we still have nine more hours of your life transforming eighteenth birthday.”

Chester Bradley had cooked up a delicious looking omelet with a side of bacon and toast. There was a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee beside it. It smelled great, too, and with a nod of approval from her host, she dug in. She did need to add a bunch of cream and sugar to her coffee, she was not ready to take it black, yet.

Once they finished the omelets, the older man cleared the dishes and brought out a cupcake with a single candle on it. Pulling out a Zippo, he quickly lit the candle.

What happened next helped to restore some of Emmy’s faith in the balance of the universe. Up until now, Chester Bradley had been perfect. The flawless man: considerate, strong, well hung, great in bed, rich and so on. While he might be a man of many talents, singing was not one of them. Emmy had heard “Happy Birthday” sung many times, but she had never heard it sung like this. It was like Chester Bradley only knew how to sing one note and he sang that one badly.

As bad as it sounded, it was still a wonderful gesture and meant the world to Emmy.

“Make a wish!” he said.

Emmy wished to be enslaved by Chester Bradley, then blew out the candle.

Emmy tried to be dainty when she ate the cupcake, but with the icing piled as high as it was, some inevitably got on her nose. Chester Bradley gave her a napkin to clean up with then brought a stack of papers to the table.

Emmy was not sure where this was going. She was about to graduate and done with all her classwork, so should not have any homework.

Chester Bradley brought down a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured two glasses, neat. The only other alcohol, aside from sips of wine at the holidays, she had ever tasted was the glass of champagne and wine the night before. But, when he raised his glass to toast, she followed along. When he drank his all in one gulp, she did the same. When he calmly set his glass down, Emmy collapsed into a fit of coughing. That was horrible tasting! It hit the omelet and cupcake in her stomach, and it took all of Emmy’s willpower to keep everything down, but she managed.

Once her coughing fit had subsided, she looked up at the patient eyes of her lover.

“Now,” he said in a businesslike tone, “let’s talk about your future and your college plans.”

Emmy realized that she had never planned for college. Her parents had been completely unworried about, too, for some strange reason. It was not that she intended to skip college, the part of her brain that should have been worried about and working on that, just did not activate. When her brother went off to the Air Force Academy, there had been years of applications, interviews, and campus visits. For her, none of that.

“I haven’t made any,” she said. This part began to feel like a combination of bad dreams: she was being quizzed about her life while naked.

“I know,” he said. “I arranged it that way.”

He poured another drink into their glasses.

“Sir?” she asked, too many things stopped making sense. “What’s going on?”

“Emmy,” he took her hand. “I am going to make you a slave.”

So many things hit Emmy all at once. Her desires, the pack of erotica, the show, they were all leading up to this. She wanted to be a slave, she felt it deep within her, she just did not think it could be real. She knew she was blushing, that her naked body was an open book to be read.

“Don’t say anything until I’m finished,” he ordered. The questions that had been boiling up inside her, suddenly vanished. She would listen.

“You,” he pointed at her, “are what is known as a Submissive. You are hardwired to be sexually submissive and need to be dominated. Kinsey ran the numbers for his third report and came up with a rough figure of one percent of women are truly submissive. This means you get off on being fucked, hurt, and controlled. This also means you will be fundamentally unhappy if these needs are not met.

“I am what we have started calling Readers of Personalities, or Ropers for short, and I can sense submissives. It is like being able to see an aura of the person, a color that most cannot see, People like me go out into the world, find submissive women, enslave them and either keep them for ourselves, or sell them. I have made decent money before doing that.

“Sometimes, if the female is deeply submissive, like you, some Ropers, like me, have the ability to program them. Usually, you must have sex first, but if the subject is submissive enough and you get them before they have a chance to develop defenses, it can be done with the barest of physical contact the first time. Like I did with you.

“I did not change anything about your personality. Those rape fantasies are all yours, the desire to be owned and used are from within you. I cannot make those changes. What I have been doing is making you more valuable as a slave. That is why you had no interest in dating or friends. That is why you did not make college plans; I already made them for you.

“There is a group called, for short, the Association. It is a governing body for slave ownership. There are papers filed for each enslavement, every slave is tracked. The owners must adhere to basic standards for humane slave treatment. Once you are a slave and enter the system, you can be sold or traded to anyone else who is a member and know you will be safe. They also make sure you hold up your end of the agreements and will track you down if you try to run away.

“Your parents know. Your father is a member of the Association and your mother, well, she left you a letter you can read later with her story.

“You will be going to Warm Springs Canyon College. It is a fully accredited, four-year program. All the students are slaves. You will be educated properly and returned to me when you are done. You will leave on Sunday and be driven there.

“Now, you need to sign these enslavement papers first, then we can finish the enrollment forms for WSCC. You may speak now.”

“Sir? What if I don’t want to be a slave? Do I have to sign?”

“I can make you sign and think it was your own idea,” her lover explained, “but I would rather you did it on your own and the Association would prefer it that way, too. You know this is what you want. All that time reading the Story of O, the Gor books; you know what slaves are and you know you were born to be one.”

Emmy stared at him; they had been preparing her for this for her whole life. She had been sent off to be enslaved and deflowered by this man as soon as she was old enough to do so. But, he was right. She always imagined herself as the one enslaved. She pictured herself in Roissy, or being thrown to a Gorean warrior’s henchmen and gangraped. She wanted this and he just gave her the course of her life.

The young woman took the second glass of whiskey and drained it in one gulp again. This time, shock and existential crisis overcame her inexperience with alcohol, and she barely batted an eye. So much made sense now, about her and about the world.

“You’ll be my owner? I’ll be your slave?” she asked for clarification.

He nodded.

Emmy was overwhelmed by the thought of Chester Bradley fucking her over and over. She never wanted anything more than that. Would it be like that if she didn’t sign? Then what? Would he still want her? Would she have to figure out what to do with her life? If she signed those papers, she could be a slave. Chester Bradley would fuck her all he wanted, and she would not have to get a career and navigate her own way in a fucked up world. If she signed herself away, she would be well taken care of.

“Where do I sign?” Emmy asked. She really hoped this was truly her and not him controlling her.

The enslavement papers were tedious. She half expected there to be fireworks, or have to sign in blood. Instead, Chester Bradley handed her a nice fountain pen (filled with blue ink, not blood), and she began to initial and sign. And she initialed and signed, and initialed and signed some more. In the end, she signed or initialed more than two dozen times and her thumb and forefinger were blue from the pen’s ink.

“We have been trying to shorten the form. Parts of it are a tad obsolete. One of the things you signed is an agreement not to enter the Austro-Hungarian Empire without notifying the equivalent of the Association in Budapest,” her now owner said and poured another round of drinks.

“Master?” She tried out the new form of address and found a new thrill as she said it.

“Yes, I that is what I am now,” he said. “I now have complete ownership over you and can do whatever I like to that perfect body of yours.

“Master? Are you going to brand me?” she nervously inquired.

“Yes, I am, dear,” he stacked the enslavement papers neatly and placed them in a thick, pre-stamped Manilla envelope. As time slowed and Emmy noticed every detail, she saw the envelope was addressed to a place in Indiana. “We need to finish the enrollment papers. Then, I am still trying to decide if I should fuck you in the ass first or brand you first.

“Now,” he said cheerily, “let’s get you enrolled in WSCC!”

It turned out that she was already accepted. The main qualification seemed to be merely being a slave. This plan had been in motion long before she got in the Lincoln to go to Manhattan. Emmy looked over the copy of her enrollment forms, and saw they were filled out in her Mother’s handwriting. Emmy saw her high school transcripts and there was no mention of that detention her freshman year that they swore would go on her permanent record. All that was left for her to do was fill out her date of enslavement and sign twice. It was over before she even got her hand warmed back up.

Her owner placed these papers in another pre-addressed and stamped envelope. He grabbed his keys and stood up.

“I need to get these out and in the mail. It is a holiday weekend, so I would like to make sure they get there before you arrive in the Sierras,” he walked to the door. “I will be back in a couple of minutes. Then, in some order or another: branding, collaring, and buttfucking.”

2-Collaring

Her now owner was out the door, and Emmy was alone. She poured herself another drink, the other ones were treating her nicely. With a warm glow and any inhibitions shot, Emmy reflected on how much her life had changed in the past twenty-four hours. She had seen her first sex, had her first drink, had oral sex for the first time, signed papers to enslave herself and enrolled in college. She was certainly not wasting her first official day of adulthood.

Emmy drank a sip of her drink and felt her stomach rumble a bit. Maybe she should hold off until the rest of the alcohol in her system caught up. She decided to pace a bit, the naked blonde stepped across the large living room to look out the window.

The new slave looked down at Central Park. If TV coverage was to be believed, that place was a crime infested war zone. Should she step foot there alone after dark she was sure to be raped/robbed/murdered. It could have been the addition of the rain, but New York City just seemed bleak and depressing. She hoped she would not have to live here all the time. Chester Bradley always seemed to be travelling off on one business venture or another, she assumed he would take her with him. Being rich in New York was like being rich anywhere, though: better and easier. Her owner had his own security, his own safe refuge looking down on the rest of the city, his own means to navigate around the city and never come in contact with the subway or grimy parts.

The idea that she was a sex slave was too big to comprehend now, so she decided to focus instead on going to college. Whatever haze that her owner had placed her under was lifted a little, at least on this subject. She had never heard of Warm Springs Canyon College, and knew absolutely nothing about it. He said that all the students were slaves, how would that work? Did they still have sororities? How about sports teams? It was in the Sierras, wasn’t that in California or Nevada? She had never been west of Chicago, what did big mountains look like in person?

Yesterday, her life had been different. It was all too big to take in at once. She would have to just go with the flow and see where she wound up. She was a slave now, but she was Chester Bradley’s slave, and she could not wait for him to take full use of her. He would take her in the ass. He was going to brand and collar her.

Emmy took a deep breath. She was a little drunk, maybe. The young blonde never been drunk before, so she wasn’t sure. But the tip of her nose felt funny, and her lips were a little numb. She was giddy. Happy that her life did have direction, that she would be having so SO much sex.

There was a week before graduation ceremony, was she going to be there for that? Did she want to be? She already finished all her classes, and the rest of the year would be fluff and bullshit. Would anybody miss her when she disappeared to WSCC and parts unknown after that? It was her Master’s decision if she went or not. That made her feel better, he would decide for her.

She was musing about showing up to graduation wearing nothing but a collar when her owner came home. Emmy knew she should do something to greet him, kneel? But by the time she realized she should be doing something he was already well in.

“Welcome back, Master,” she managed to say.

“Thank you, Slave,” Chester Bradley answered. “We will work on your duties, but since you have been a slave for less than 30 minutes, I will forgive any transgressions.” He hung up his keys on a hook by the door. “I have decided on an order. First the collar, then the sodomy, then the branding. That way I do not have to worry about messing up the brand when I am pounding your ass. I want you marked and branded before I send you off the school.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, then, quickly corrected, “I mean, ‘Yes, Master’.”

“I will get you trained right,” he said with a smile. “Come here and kneel in front of me.”

“Yes, Master,” she said.

The young beauty quickly hurried to her owner and knelt.

“Knees farther apart,” he corrected her. “Back straight. Eyes down unless your Master asks you to look at him.” The rugged man circled her. “Hands on your knees, palm open and up.” He gave her head a pat. “Very nice, slave. This is your default position. When I come home, be in this position. When I want you to wait, this is it.”

“Yes, Master.”

Chester Bradley left her kneeling and went into the bedroom. He had not told her to follow, so she stayed right where she was. The young slave waited until he came back a minute later.

“Rise,” he told her.

“Yes, Master,” and the young slave did as she was told. The thrill of being commanded was almost too much. She wanted to beg him to take her right there and consummate her enslavement, but he had other plans.

“Lift your hair,” he commanded.

Again, she eagerly obeyed.

He held a leather collar, slightly less than an inch across with a lock and loops on it. There was a silk lining, which felt exquisitely sexy on her neck. Chester Bradley’s strong hands placed the collar around her slender neck and locked it closed.

With the click of the lock and the feel of the collar around her neck symbolizing her new status, Emmy felt her pussy grow hot and needy. She was Chester Bradley’s sex slave!

“Hands together, front!” he suddenly barked.

Without thinking, Emmy held her hands down in front of her and crossed her wrists. Had he programmed her for that or was that natural to her?

Her master reached down and tied her wrists together with a length of soft rope. She looked down at her bound wrists, then up with adoration in her green eyes to her Master. What was he going to do now?

He stroked her cheek, then kissed her. Emmy sighed contentedly. Then, his hands were all over her. He kneaded her buttocks, cupped her breasts, ran his hands up and down her thighs. Emmy closed her eyes and lost herself in his strong, skilled hands.

“Time to get fucked in the ass,” he told her after what seemed like forever.

“Yes, Master,” she sighed.

3-Anal

Most of what Emmy knew about anal sex came from The Story of O and what she saw at the show last night. The Story of O was not a very practical guide, so Emmy had no idea what was in store for her. She knew generally that it would hurt, but that pain was either irrelevant to the man, or something he was trying to inflict. She already saw it as the ultimate symbol of her submission.

Her owner produced a leash and clicked it on her collar. When he tugged it, she was ready to cum right there. He was pulling her by a leash to go fuck her in the ass! There was no way Sheila from high school was having anywhere close to this kind of day.

Emmy walked a little slow just so her owner would keep tension on the leash. He led her on a walk around the apartment. Around the living room, back and forth down the hallway, into the master bedroom, around the bed where she had lost her virginity, and finally into the guest room.

What if she resisted? How far would he go to get her to comply? She thought about it, but was too eager for this to happen.

Her bare feet slid through the shag carpeting as she was led into the bedroom. He had redecorated it since her last visit with her parents, it looked more modern than before. She almost expected a waterbed, but saw that this was a regular, extremely comfortable looking bed. With rings bolted to the corners, center of the top and bottom, and at strategic locations on the sides. There was no doubt what this bed would be used.

Emmy’s owner’s strong hands lifted her by the hips and deposited the young slave face first on the bed. He put a large pillow under her hips to raise her butt up. The dominant man paused for a moment to give her wet pussy a quick lick or two before pulling her hands above her head and securing them to the ring in the middle of the headboard. Taking time to caress each lovely leg, he tied a rope around each ankle then secured them to the rings in the lower corners, so she was spread open.

Once she was tied and helpless, Chester Bradley attacked her body. His skilled hands and experienced mouth touched every bit of her bound form, exploring and enjoying his property. He licked and fingered her pussy to keep her on the edge of an orgasm without actually letting her reach it. Somewhere during his campaign on her body, he had begun to finger her butthole. The first time it was with one hand caressing her pussy while the other slipped a wet finger into her virgin anus.

Emmy’s attention, and Chester Bradley’s, was soon all on her firm young bottom. One hand worked a lubed finger into her back door while the other caressed and smacked at her perfect butt cheeks. She was a slave, and her owner could do whatever he wanted to her.

Her owner’s strong hands were off her, and he climbed in behind her. She could hear him rubbing lube on his rock-hard cock. Her heart raced and she sucked in big gulps of air as she waited for what she was powerless to stop.

“This is going to hurt, Emmeline,” he said to her softly. “I’ll be gentle, but the first time is always going to be painful.”

“Yes, Master,” Emmy panted, “thank you, Master.”

The bound slave felt the mass of her owner behind her, felt the top of his cock pressed against her lubed asshole. She knew all his power would be focused on the hard shaft penetrating her virgin ass.

He pushed; her body resisted. This was too big and going the wrong way. Chester Bradley was determined. This was not the first girl he had anally deflowered, and he knew well what he was doing. He moved slightly and used his legs to push past her body’s natural resistance.

Emmy had no idea it was going to feel like that. It was as though the most intense pain in her life, was mixed with deliciously dirty pleasure. She felt like her body was split, that she would be rent in half. There was no way her butthole was capable of this. The feeling, the pain, radiated out from the very core of her body, every muscle in her body was connected and part of the experience. She almost wanted to beg him to stop, but as he continued to slowly slide deeper into her, she could not find words.

He was all the way inside her. She felt his pubic hair press against the soft smooth skin of her bottom. His hips against her butt. She did not think she could do this, that she could not take it. She began to pull at the ropes, to try to get free of this pain.

“It’s okay,” her lover said softly to her in a calming voice. “You can do this; you can take it. I am not going to break my new slave on my first day with her. This is going to hurt, but you are not going to be damaged. Your body can handle this. I am not going to let any harm come to you.”

“Yes, Master,” Emmy managed to croak and stopped fighting. She took another deep breath and prepared herself for more.

Despite the pain, or because of it, Emmy was incredibly aroused. Her body felt alive like it never had before. She realized she was clenching her bound fingers together so hard that they hurt, and her toes were curled. She tried to relax and unclench, but as soon as she did, her owner began to slide back. Emmy gave up on trying to relax her body and just focused on the cock in her ass.

Chester Bradley was slow but insistent as he fucked her. He did not attempt to cause pain, but he was sure to get his pleasure. He knew how far he could go and stayed well below that. Emmy’s body began to adjust, and the pain lessened. It still hurt, but a wonderful kind of pain, and the knowledge of what was being done to her, made it one of the most intense experiences of her life.

She had no idea how long he fucked her. She always was right on the edge of climaxing, but he expertly held her just below that. His breath on her neck as he used her was intoxicating, she wanted all of him to enjoy all of her.

His hand reached down and found her clit. She bucked against his invading cock as he began to work her pleasure bud. As wound up as she was, it took extraordinarily little to push her into an orgasm. She was a slave being anally deflowered by the most amazing man the world!

The young slave cried out as an amazing orgasm swept over her. Her whole body, including her filled ass, clenched and spasmed. She thrashed against the ropes that held her and the cock that impaled her. Still, his hand expertly manipulated her clitoris, keeping her swimming in the orgasm for longer than she ever thought possible.

When she finally came down off her climax, she realized that Chester had finished, that his cum now filled her ass. He slowly slid out, wiping the leakage with a towel he had handy. He turned her head and kissed her, and she returned it with all the lust and passion from her anal deflowering.

“That was amazing, Slave,” he complimented her. “We are going to be doing a lot of that.”

Emmy’s body shuddered. She tried to relax again, to take deep breaths and let her body unclench.

“Master,” Emmy managed to moan.

Her owner left her there, tied up and used. Her hands and feet let go, then she squirmed. Moving voluntarily since he had tied her. Her anus burned and ached in a way she had never imagined. She heard him in the bathroom, then head into the hall and open one of the doors there. Physically, that had been amazing and painful. Psychologically, it cemented in her mind that she was his property, too, with no rights of her own. He had told her what he was going to do to her and did it, he did not ask for her thoughts or consent. His cum was in her butt, he had claimed her every way he could.

He promised he would do this to her again, and she believed him. She wanted more.

4-Branding

Chester Bradley came back into the room. Emmy turned her head to watch him, but her hair was in the way, and she had no way to move it. The naked slave heard him set down something heavy. She wanted to ask what he was doing.

“This is not quite like your books,” Emmy heard her owner say. The sound of a blow torch being lit brought her to reality. If he wanted to do things to her with that torch, there was nothing she could do. She had to trust him. “We do not do it on the thigh, unlike the Gor books. Short skirts and shorts have moved it somewhere less conspicuous.”

He was going to brand her. Emmy remembered now that was the next thing he promised for the day. A painful, searing mark burned into her flesh to permanently remind her that she was a slave. Her owner tied a gag between her teeth and around her head.

“You can bite this,” he said and finished the knot. It was silk, too. Her owner certainly like silk and Emmy liked being restrained with it. It felt soft, smooth, and sexy.

Emmy felt him rub alcohol on her upper right butt cheek.

“I almost hate to mark this perfect surface,” he said and rubbed a little more. “But, well, it is part of being a slave. You will be such a beautiful branded and collared slave.”

Emmy held her breath, waiting for the pain. He stood beside her where she could see him now, see the flame of the torch.

“Shh,” Chester Bradley purred. He was finishing the heating; she could see his eyes intently eyeing the color of the glowing metal.

It was quiet, the torch was off. Chester Bradley moved in behind her, out of sight.

Emmy yelled as the iron touched her flesh. She smelled the burning of her own skin, cried out in pain and shock. She bit down hard on the gag, grateful for that release. As suddenly as the pain started, it eased, and the iron was taken away. Now, it was the throbbing of a burn.

Emmy sobbed from the pain. Her owner climbed on the bed behind her and, even as she cried from her branding, pushed his cock into her still wet pussy. He untied her gag as he slid into her.

“I own this now,” he said, and thrust deep into her warm depths. “Pussy, ass, mouth. Body and soul, you are an object and I own you.”

“Yes, Master,” she answered in a half moan, half sob. This was almost all too intense, all she could do was react and ride the intense experience. He was rougher, more intense than he had been last night. This was not the gentle older lover; this was the Master using his slave. The pleasure, the satisfaction of being who she needed to be, built rapidly. She had endured so much pain in these last few minutes, this was a welcome change.

Emmy relaxed, letting the knowledge of her bondage fill her. It was a distraction when her next climax washed over her.

“Thank you, Master,” she moaned. Then, almost as an afterthought, added. “I love you, Master.”

“And I own you, Emmy,” he moaned and came in her pussy. “Body, mind, and soul.”

———–

Epilogue 1-Emmy and Chester Bradley

On Friday, Chester Bradley began programming Emmy while he fucked her. The increased arousal and weakened defenses allowed his ability to deeply penetrate and take hold. She would be a perfect slave, never try to escape or harm her owner or anyone else. Much of this was reinforcing her natural personality, but he also added a few things. If one knew how to command her, and there were a couple of ways of this, she could be commanded to “freeze”. She would be completely immobile and then, with another work to activate her, could be given other commands. He also reinforced the defenses he had put in earlier. She could be controlled, but not by everyone and not to the complete destruction of her self. She would always be Emmy in there, even if controlled by another.

Emmy would never be aware of this. There would be gaps in her memories, but she simply ignored those, they were not supposed to be important to her. Whenever he said “listen” in a certain tone of command, and she felt that certain pressure in her head, her mind opened to his commands. Only Chester Bradley, and a rare few others with the same ability, could create the commands; but anyone who knew the right command word could use them.

It allowed Chester Bradley to quickly train her on giving good head. The programming disabled her gag reflex (at least for cocks) and when he gave her instructions, they stayed. He only had to have her suck a cock once and she was a pro. Of course, he made sure that she had lots of practice time, too. This feature would add greatly to her price. Should he ever sell her, of course.

Emmy never went home, never saw her bedroom again. For the rest of the holiday weekend, she was with Chester Bradley. He took her to museums, they saw the Yankees play (a 4-1 loss to the Bluejays), caught a Broadway Show of “Oh! Calcutta!” (she found it tame compared to the show she saw her first night). And, in every moment he could, Chester Bradley was inside Emmy. Mouth, pussy, and ass all got ample attention as he savored and enjoyed every moment he could with his beautiful young slave.

On Tuesday morning, when her parents might be arriving home, she left with Chester Bradley in the big Lincoln. He was taking her on her first leg to Warm Springs Canyon College. Her owner gave her a letter from her mother to read on the way:

Dear Emmeline,

If you are reading this then you signed the papers and are a slave, just like I did so many years ago. I am a submissive, just like you. And, just like you, a Roper found me. Only my enslaver was not as noble or kind as Chester Bradley, and I suffered many ordeals. You are going to be found and enslaved, you are too beautiful and too submissive not to be found by someone who will want to own you.

When Chester Bradley was able to program you just by touching your shoulder, I knew you would be easy prey. I made arrangements with Chester Bradley to ensure your safest entrance into this world.

You need to experience this world. This is who you are and if you were never branded, collared, and enslaved as a sex toy; you would feel like some big part of you is missing. You are young, healthy, and beautiful; rejoice in your bondage and all the amazing sex you are going to get!

In some ways, I envy you. You are beginning a journey I am far along. The uncertainty, the newness, so many firsts! So much that you will see and do and have done to you! It is an adventure!

I will be in touch with you as I am permitted.

I love you,

-Mom

Ps-your father never did free me. I am his wife, but his slave, too.

———–

Epilogue 2-Grace Marie

Grace got the call from Chester Bradley she had been expecting. It was done. He had enslaved her daughter and thoroughly deflowered her. He had also programmed in defenses, barriers that Mostafa Maleki could not get around. No matter what else happened, no one would fully control her daughter. Her plan had worked.

Now her daughter had a full life full of new experiences and adventures ahead of her. Parts of it might be tragic and painful, but there was so much life to live.

Feeling genuinely good about herself for the first time in many years, she finished her drink. Grace took a deep breath and walked back down to the orgy that was in full swing.