G2-Story-063-The Chattel Act

On August 17th 2093, after more than a hundred years of gender equality and despite the furious campaigning of women’s groups and female politicians across the globe, the recently elected, male dominated World Government passed into law Statute Number 4-382, the so-called Chattel Act. Under its terms, all women, whether married, single, divorced, widowed, or in a stable, long-term relationship, immediately lost the right to vote, own property, run a business, have a bank account, hold a position of authority in either the public or private sector, or to be viewed and therefore treated, as an equal in the eyes of the Law.

The effects of the law were immense and devastating. Overnight every woman in every country on the globe, regardless of wealth, position or background, became totally dependent on a male and with no legal recourse to enable them to recover whatever possessions or resources they had formerly owned.
For the male half of the population of course, the situation was entirely different. They were immediately placed in a situation of unaccustomed power and control over the female half of the population. Some men ... a small proportion, mainly married or with a settled partner did not take advantage of the new statute and continued to treat their wives and girlfriends as equals, but by far the majority seized their opportunity.
Bryce Patterson was one of them.

As the founder of a successful modelling agency, he realised at once that the passing of the Chattel Act represented an open invitation for men like him ... wealthy men with few scruples ... to use it to get whatever he wanted and realise his long-held secret fantasy of owning a female slave. Not just any slave, though, for he knew exactly who he wanted ... Petra Sarovic, once the ice-cool, unattainable object of his college dreams, then the highly-paid super star model of one of his competitors.

He’d tried many times to persuade her to leave her agency and come to his, but she’d always refused his offers and remained loyal. Now though, she was vulnerable. Her earning power and celebrity status had been taken from her by the Act and just like every other woman, she was now only a chattel. Her beauty and fame were of no value, except as a trophy for some man to feed his vanity and if anything, those attributes now made her a supremely attractive prey. Bryce intended to be her owner.

Petra’s life had crashed into ruin, her agency demanding a re-negotiation of her contract that meant she would be working for no more than food and lodging and her angry refusal simply resulted in being sacked. Petra offered her services to other agencies and immediately discovered that she had been blacklisted and branded a troublemaker. No-one would take her on.

With an eviction notice on her door, little food in her fridge and no prospect of a job, she was in no position to refuse when Bryce Patterson called and invited her to dinner at her favourite, expensive restaurant. She only vaguely remembered him from college as one of her many admirers, but dinner was dinner and she accepted his offer immediately. The superb meal was a poignant reminder of what her life had been before the Act and although she suspected an ulterior motive, she was just happy to be back in the elegant surroundings that she loved so much, but could no longer afford.

It came as no real surprise to her when after the meal, seated in the sumptuous leather upholstery of his chauffeured limousine, he suggested going back to his home for a nightcap. Of course she was well aware that he had more in mind, but he was obviously rich and she had nothing. How could she say no? A man in his position could take his pick of thousands of women and if he had chosen her, it might mean being able to return to the luxurious lifestyle, one that he had made for himself and she might even be able to persuade him to let her model again. Having sex with him would be a small price to pay and as they walked to the door, she prepared herself to agree to whatever he had in mind, determined not to let this chance pass her by.

In her modelling career, Petra had worn rubber several times as quite a few of the top designers used the material in their creations and she had never considered it as being particularly unusual. The shiny black body-suit with its built-in high heels that Bryce Patterson had helped her into, was so tight and figure-hugging that if she had been wearing bra or panties, every detail would have been clearly outlined, spoiling the smooth curves of her body. As a model, she was well used to being nude between changes of clothes and had been only slightly embarrassed when she stripped in front of him and allowed him to help her into the suit.

The built-in under wiring pushed her breasts up and apart so that they jutted provocatively and made her nipples stand out like acorns, while the rubber between her thighs was so tight that she could feel that her labia and clitoris were prominently displayed. She could live with that and because he obviously found her rubber-clad figure extremely sexy, Petra assumed that his next step would be to take her to his bedroom.

Her eyes widened and she licked her lips nervously when he produced several coils of rope and casually asked if she wouldn’t mind if he tied her up. THAT was completely unexpected and if it hadn’t been for the disastrous change in her circumstances brought about by the Chattel Act, she would have refused immediately. Her hesitation lasted only until she looked around at the unmistakable signs of his wealthy lifestyle and compared it with her bleak prospects, then she took a deep breath and invited him to go ahead.

In a matter of only a few minutes, her ankles and thighs were tightly clamped together by multiple loops of rope cinched between her legs and while he tied the last knot in the rope securing her crossed wrists at the small of her back, she swallowed anxiously, knowing she couldn’t free herself or run away. The thought of running away suddenly brought home to her the fact that with her legs tied, he couldn’t have sex with her, but when she looked cautiously back over her shoulder to question that, it was just in time to see him pick up a wide rubber strap and bring it towards her.

She started to ask him what he was doing, but almost before her first word emerged , the strap was pressed firmly across her lips and the long, thick rubber pad attached on the inside pushed deep into her mouth, pinning her tongue to the floor of her mouth and depriving her of the power of speech. He fastened the buckles securely at the nape of her neck and her muffled, garbled protests were ignored. She wriggled and twisted, but could not stop him from knotting another short length of rope to her bound wrists then pulling it upwards until he could knot its free end to the lower buckle on the rear of her gag strap, holding her arms in a double hammer-lock between her shoulder-blades.

Tugging at her bonds made matters worse for her efforts only forced the gag deeper into her mouth and when he walked from behind her, smiling, she stopped struggling and glared at him. It was all she could do, but it didn’t have any effect and she felt her face redden when he gazed boldly at her prominent breasts and slim, stocking-clad legs. His inspection lasted for over half a minute, then he nodded in seeming satisfaction and told her calmly that he had often imagined what she would look like in bondage. He was pleased to say that she had exceeded his hopes. Petra gulped and dropped her eyes from his, not sure whether his words were a compliment or a threat, then froze when he continued.

“I know you’ve lost your modelling job and are about to be thrown out of your apartment. Unless you get yourself another high-paying job very quickly, or found yourself a man prepared to support your expensive tastes, you’ll very soon be out on the street and penniless.
“Unfortunately for you, Petra the blacklist your former agency put you on makes the former extremely unlikely.

The Chattel Act has put millions of young, attractive women in a similar situation to yours and I doubt there are enough rich, generous men to go around.”

He paused, as if waiting for her to agree that he was right, then smiled broadly and said that he had some very good news for her. She was much luckier than those other women, because she already knew someone who was more than willing to take care of her and would not only give her a place to live, but also cover all of her expenses ... him.

She scanned his face intently, wondering how he knew so much about her financial difficulties and whether his seemingly genuine and almost suspiciously generous offer was just a ploy to get her into his bed. Given the way he had tied her and the undeniable fact that she couldn’t stop him doing what he wanted anyway, that hardly seemed necessary. To be completely honest, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to stop him if he chose to take advantage of her plight. Being bound and gagged was a little scary, but also rather pleasurable and definitely exciting. Apart from which, there was the considerable factor of the Chattel Act and its horrendous implications for her future and so if he really meant what he’d said about looking after her, she would be incredibly foolish to throw away perhaps the only chance she might ever have to get back to her former lifestyle.

She couldn’t afford not to take his words at face value, even though she was worried there must be a catch. Hoping she was wrong, Petra looked into his eyes and nodded.

Half an hour later, she squealed into her gag while his long, hard maleness thrust deep into her sex, then drew back and thrust again, penetrating her and driving her towards the second giant orgasm she could feel rising inside her as she was forced to respond helplessly to his arrogant and ruthless pillaging of her body ... just as she had a short time before. He’d bent her over and used another rope to link the suit’s collar to her ankles, then slid open the zip between her thighs and used a hank of her long blonde hair to hold her in position while he took her. For Petra, the very worst part of being used in such an embarrassing and totally inconsiderate manner, was the humiliating knowledge that she had not only been unable to control her own ferocious sexual heat! The instinctive, quite involuntary, lubrication of her sex as his shaft bludgeoned into her belly, had borne witness to him of her abject surrender and he felt every frenzied contraction of her internal muscles when they gripped and massaged his rigid flesh, drawing him ever deeper into her body until his spend had jetted into her churning core and triggered her own enormous climax.

She had never expected, and certainly never intended, to submit so completely, but her immobility and absolute vulnerability had so intensified the sensations sweeping over and through her, that her body and mind had been swamped to such a degree that all she had been able to do was react.

Now, she was being forced to react again, equally as powerfully and equally as uncontrollably ... her arousal and passion spiralled upwards with each lunge of his hips; her squeals and moans of anguished ecstasy gave audible proof of the almost-unbearable levels of desperate need she was feeling ... unwittingly urging him on to even greater efforts.

Bound, gagged and leashed by her own hair, Petra was nothing more than a hip-swaying, buttock-jiggling, hot, moist receptacle for his lust and while Bryce Patterson ravaged her defenceless belly with fast, deep thrusts, she had no idea that this was only a very small taste of the trials he had planned for her future life as his permanent, full-time slave.

Drained by the depth and power of her enforced submissions and still tightly bound and gagged, Petra fell into an exhausted sleep within seconds of being laid on the bed and cradled in Bryce’s muscular arms. For an hour he simply held her, enjoying the warmth of her small, soft body alongside his and re-living the memories of her weaving buttocks grinding erotically against his pelvis in maddened, unthinking struggles to impale herself even more deeply on his embedded maleness. Her exhibition of blatant sexuality and unbridled lust had outstripped even his most lurid fantasies and required him to delve deep into his reserves of strength and stamina in order to satisfy her near-insatiable demands. Thankfully, the sight of her bound, rubber-clad form and the sounds of her gag-muffled pleas had acted on him like a powerful aphrodisiac and enabled him to take her three times in quick succession ... but after the third, he had been content and somewhat relieved to find that she was in no state to cope with a fourth orgasm ... one that he seriously doubted he could have provided. Sliding his arms carefully from around her, he rose from the bed and stood gazing down, then turned away purposefully. He had things to do before she woke up.

After twelve hours of oblivion, Petra’s eyelids fluttered several times, then sprang open when her brain clicked into gear and she remembered where she was, who she was with, and what had happened to her ... or, at least, what had happened before she’d fallen asleep. Embarrassed by the memory of her shameful sexual responses, it was some moments before Petra realised that she was not only still encased in the skin-tight rubber suit, but also still bound and gagged!

Struggling to sit up, she froze, her eyes widening in alarm at the sound of clinking metal from beneath the covers. When she finally managed to kick off the quilt, she gazed down in appalled fascination at the thick chain linking her steel-cuffed ankles. Twisting her arms to the side, she was just able to see that her wrists were similarly fettered, but that was not all! Around her slender waist and running between her thighs, was some sort of belt made of the same polished steel! A wild scream rose in her throat, but emerged as a low, muffled wail, for a new and even larger gag pad absorbed most of the sound and added to her horror at the dramatic and unexpected worsening of her plight.

With rope, she could at least hope to free herself by twisting her wrists or finding a knife, but with steel, she knew there was NO escape without a key. She was Bryce Patterson’s captive until he chose to free her and she trembled in fright, thinking of his masculine strength and power when he had simply used her and taken his pleasure with no consideration for her wishes or needs. Even though she had climaxed hugely, it had not been because she had chosen to, but because she had been tied, helpless and totally unable to resist ... as she still was ... only now, even more so.

Petra’s eyes glittered with futile anger at his treatment of her and she jerked at her steel restraints in frustration, knowing that neither he, nor any other man, would have dared to do what he had done to her while she had been a successful, wealthy model. If it hadn’t been for that cursed, anti-women Chattel Act, she would have had him arrested and jailed for his actions and when she got out of this, she’d ... she’d ... Her blue eyes filled with shocked apprehension and a growing dread when the all of the implications of the Act crashed into her reeling mind. As a woman, subject to the terms of the Act, she had NO rights or recourse under the Law and would be given no protection by it.

No policeman, lawyer or judge would listen to her complaints, or act to help her against him, no matter what he had done. They would only remind her that she was merely a chattel and if she didn’t like what he had done to her, then she could always leave and try to find herself a man she did like to look after her ... only, she couldn’t leave! At least, not until he released her ... .and even then, how would she survive with no money, no home and no job? She didn’t trust him, or really like being tied up and taken by him the way he had ... but he’d offered to take care of her and share his home with her. Compared to being alone and on the street, that had to be a better alternative ... didn’t it? After all even if it meant her being tied up for sex occasionally, it wasn’t that bad, so maybe he was right about her being luckier than most other women ...

Some time later, Petra was no longer sure whether she was lucky or not, but her views on the subject were no longer relevant or required by Bryce Patterson. Kneeling on the expensive wooden floor at the foot of his designer couch, she was trying desperately to climax to the powerful oscillations of a vibrator inserted deep into her sex through a strategically-placed cut-out in her steel belt, matching the one in her rubber suit.

Collected from the bedroom to the lounge, she had reluctantly obeyed his firm “suggestion” that she kneel, then been secured in position. He had fastened the chain between her ankles to her wrists, preventing her from getting up and so, defenceless, all she could do was shake her head and mumble in protest when he showed her the vibrator, then opened the belt, slid the device slowly into her body and connected it to his laptop computer. While he settled himself comfortably on the couch with his feet resting on an ottoman, Petra tried to steel herself for the onslaught to come, her efforts considerably hampered by the unwanted, but guiltily-pleasurable sexual heat swirling in her belly while she waited for her ordeal to begin.

She couldn’t escape it, nor could she eject the vibrator from her belly and knew that her submission was inevitable. With a deal of trepidation she watched in fear while his finger descended to the keyboard and after a few suspense filled seconds, pressed a button. Petra jerked erect, her head arching back and a shrill scream leaking past her gag when the vibrator buzzed into frenetic life, sending the most intense pulses of high-speed electronic arousal straight to the central core of her femininity. The chains between her wrists and ankles snapped taut when she attempted to bend forward and her eyes bulged in disbelief at the tornado of lust that had been so cruelly unleashed in her belly. After a devastating minute or two, she squealed in anguish and her head jerked around to stare wildly at him when he tapped the keyboard again, changing the pattern of pulses to a slowly increasing rhythm that built to a peak for three seconds, then equally slowly reduced in power ... then built again, over and over, bringing her to a peak of straining need. It always eased back without pushing her over the edge into a boiling, seething orgasm and was torment she could nothing to alleviate! Petra’s unsatisfied passion rose to unbearable heights, and she pleaded and begged as best she could through her gag for him to have mercy on her and let her climax before she exploded from sheer sexual overload.

From the comfort of his couch, Bryce Patterson watched her twist and writhe while she tried in vain to find some way to trigger her orgasm, his lips curved into a cruel smile, secure in the knowledge that only he could give her the release she craved but could not achieve on her own. It was already obvious that her need was so overwhelming that she would surrender willingly to the vibrator, but that was certainly not enough for him for he intended that she would become so addicted to the stringent bondage he had placed her in, and so conditioned to his absolute power over her, that she would submit unconditionally. Eventually, she would eagerly submit herself to his authority and control over every aspect of her life, becoming, when the process was complete, his total sex-slave.

Pressing another button on the keyboard, he altered the vibrator’s pattern to a random pulsing that would keep her massively stimulated and on the brink of orgasm, but without ever letting her climax, then rose to his feet and left the room. Behind him, while he closed the door, her shrill squeals of anguished dismay faded slowly when he walked along the hall, en route to prepare the next step in her subjugation.

Some considerable time later Petra had been bound so that the long steel spreader-bars held her arms and legs fully extended in a huge, straddled ‘X’ that displayed and offered every curve and hollow of her rubber-clad body, allowing her no defence whatever. Suspended from chains to an overhead pulley, the upper bar had been adjusted until only the tips of her high-heels were in contact with the floor and while she teetered back and forth the scant inches that were all the movement she had, Petra gulped when he calmly unlocked the steel belt that had held the vibrator in place and removed them both. Mercilessly aroused for hours, but never once able to climax, her whole body was so sensitised that every touch of his hands sent shockwaves of ferocious heat raging through her quaking loins and brought muffled whimpers of desperation from her gagged lips. She longed for an orgasm, needed one desperately, but knew that if he chose not to take her, she could do nothing to end the horrendous fires of lust burning throughout every part of her helplessly chained body.

As his captive, she had no choice but to accept his will and although she tried to tell herself that she didn’t want to be taken and used; forced to submit as his defenceless prisoner, the very fact that she was chained and gagged; utterly unable to exert the smallest influence over what he decided to do to her, added even more fuel to the inferno of lust raging in her belly.

Her eyes bulged at the sight of his muscular body and the long, thick shaft of his erect maleness when he stripped in front of her and her sex oozed silvery juices while her body instinctively prepared itself for inevitable violation. Petra now both wanted and feared it, for she knew that when he entered her, she would submit instantly and be sent hurtling into an orgasm that she would be unable to prevent or control. Already, her body was no longer under her command and whether she willed it or not, there could be no holding back or disguising her absolute sexual surrender. Bryce would see and hear and feel her every frantic squeal, shudder and convulsion while she was forced to exhibit the intensity of her submission and the incandescent passions he had unleashed within her psyche ... passions she had never experienced before. They filled her brain with frightening visions of a future she had never thought of or considered as being even remotely possible!

With her limbs restrained in steel bonds and her body subjected to sexual arousal far beyond anything she had ever imagined, there could be only one outcome of her enforced subjugation. Petra began to perceive that he intended far more than simply bringing her into his home as his partner and bed-mate and it was then that her belly juddered and swirled with savage heat and her mind filled with horrified despair at her body’s treacherous betrayal. Behind her, he saw Petra’s instinctive response and instantly acted on it, moving forward and gripping her left hip in his left hand to steady her while his right guided his rigidly-erect shaft into the slick, wet cleft of her gaping sex. Unable to move, Petra screamed shrilly into her gag when his shaft of hard flesh bored into her belly, her internal muscles clamping instinctively around him and drawing him still deeper when her body responded animal-like to his ruthless penetration, despite her brain’s ineffectual commands to resist.

The first volcanic orgasm exploded over her in seconds, deluging his buried shaft with scalding waves of her juices and while he continued to thrust into her body with fast, hard lunges, her muffled screams rose to a crescendo that told of her frantic desperation, but he was not yet ready to come!

Almost lifted from her feet by the power of his thrusts, Petra’s screams changed to low, gasping moans when a second, even more immense orgasm raged upwards from the boiling cauldron of her belly, then a foaming torrent of tempestuous arousal exploded through her shaking, convulsing body and she gave a wild shriek of unendurable anguish. Petra was forced to submit utterly to the devastating ecstasy of her total physical subjugation and coherent thought evaporated. Gathering himself, Bryce drew back, then jerked forward and his maleness bludgeoned to the pit of her pounding belly to release the hosing jets of his spend into the swirling maelstrom of her orgasm. Petra wailed ultimate submission into her gag and climaxed for a third time, her mind completely overwhelmed by the sheer physical sensations being imposed on her. Her body responded solely to the exquisite pleasure of her multiple surrenders, leaving her panting for breath with her eyes squeezed shut to concentrate on the delicious havoc while she dangled limply from the spreader-bar, only dimly aware of his shaft slipping from her belly when he stepped back to survey her. Had she seen the expression on his face, she would have realised that his smile was not only one of deep satisfaction, but also one of predatory anticipation that did not bode well for any hopes she might have of being freed. As she had envisioned, he had other plans for her.
The expensive, steel-boned leather corset that he’d cheerfully spent almost an hour lacing around her already-slim waist was so tight and unforgiving that her torso was unable to bend, holding her rigidly upright and forced to breathe in the quick, shallow pants that were all the ruthless compression allowed. A tall, matching posture-collar around her neck gave her no option but to keep her head high with her face tilted towards the ceiling and under its encircling captivity, a thick skinned rubber hood with holes only for her eyes and nostrils concealed her head and face. She could only whimper pitiably when he slowly twisted then forced her cuffed arms and wrists high up between her shoulder-blades then locked them in in position with a short chain to the rear of her collar. He smiled happily at his utterly helpless prisoner while his strong hand, grasping this short chain propelled her to one of the many bedrooms. He fastened a waiting chain to the mid point of the one between her wrists and the back of her collar then undressed. A moment later she was freed of her leash and he lay on the bed, then casually invited her to join him. In spite of his light tone, Petra understood only too clearly that his invitation was actually an order ... not a request, for in the few days since their dinner date and her accompanying him to his house for a nightcap, she had been continuously bound, gagged and required to submit to whatever sexual demands he cared to make of her.

At first, she had assumed he was just playing a kinky sex game and that when they made love, she would be untied, but that had never happened and as the severity of her bondage increased, he had taken full advantage of her helplessness to force her to submit far more deeply than she had ever wanted. It had come as a horrid shock when she realised that he was NOT playing, but intended to keep her bound all the time and use his power to turn her into a own personal sex-toy.

Before the passing of the Chattel Act, it would have been unthinkable ... almost impossible, certainly illegal and incredibly risky, even for someone of his wealth and position, but with the new law condoning and even encouraging men to exert complete physical, financial and legal authority over women, the unthinkable had become not only acceptable, but desirable and deserving of approval by the male population, if not the female. Whatever the rights and wrongs of it, the Act was in force and neither Petra, nor any other woman, could change or escape its effects.

Tottering forward on her impossibly high heels, Petra moved to the bed and knelt on its firm mattress, then straddled his booted legs and slowly inched forward until she felt his hard shaft against the lips of her sex. He reached up to brush his fingers over the taut curves of her breasts and she gasped at his touch, her humiliation fighting a losing battle against her immediate desire when yet another hot, bright fire of arousal ignited in her belly. She COULDN’T stop it even if she wanted to! Her nipples stiffened instantly when he raised himself on one arm and his lips encircled each in turn, sucking fiercely on them through their rubber armour. The warmth of his mouth and the pressure of his lips was extraordinarily erotic, the more so because it was the first time he had paid such attention to her breasts and when he took his lips away, she moaned softly, wanting more ... not realising that she was inadvertently demonstrating the effectiveness of his efforts to train her to submit.

For some time, he let his hands roam over her body, fondling her breasts, buttocks and thighs all of the timeenjoying her frantic squirming and wriggling when she responded to his casual caresses in the only way she could. He was in no great hurry and Petra had little choice but to wait until he was ready, well aware that HE was in total control of both the situation and her and could take her whenever he chose.

Thanks to the corset’s extreme tightness, his large hands were able to fully encircle her waist and when he finally lifted then lowered her onto his waiting shaft, she gasped and her eyes widened when her sex was stretched wide by his thick, iron-hard maleness. Skewered like a butterfly on a display-board, she flushed redly under the depersonalizing hood and hesitated when he lay back and chuckled that it was time for her to do the work for a change. His right palm cracked across her left buttock and he added cheerfully that he was perfectly prepared to ‘encourage’ her if she was shy. Petra realised that he wasn’t going to give her the option to refuse. His hand was hard, her bottom smarted and she definitely didn’t want to add any more to her woes with a painful and undignified spanking. Crushing back her embarrassment, she tensed her thighs and raised her body slightly, then reluctantly sank down, acutely conscious of his embedded shaft sliding up and down the internal walls of her sex.

It was the most humiliating thing she had ever been required to do, but to her horrified shame, she discovered that it was also by far the most exciting and sexually arousing. While she rose and fell on his maleness, devastating waves of arousal poured through her belly and her brain filled with vivid images of herself as he must be seeing her. For the very first time, she pictured herself not as a free, strong and independent woman playing a sexy game with a lover, but as a chained, helpless, utterly-subjugated female, obediently serving a powerful, ruthless man who had bound her as his plaything and sex-slave. She shook her head in desperate denial, but hard though she tried to banish the awful visions, they would not leave her reeling mind and she was forced to confront the awesome reality of her plight. Petra’s belly convulsed in a shattering climax to the incredible realisation that she truly had become his sex slave.

The Chattel Act had removed her rights, but Bryce Patterson had removed her liberty and she knew with slowly growing realization that he would never give it back. As his slave and his captive, she would be forced to submit to any and every demand he cared to make of her and although she might try to resist, Petra also knew that in the end she would inevitably capitulate and accept her fate.

He had already won and the outside world ... the world of the Chattel Act, of legally authorised male supremacy, of women’s enforced subordination, political impotence and financial powerlessness ... would applaud him and envy him for his good luck. He had acquired and was happily training an attractive and obediently-submissive slave to serve his every desire. No one really knew nor cared that her slavery was not by her own choice and that she had never wanted to be owned by him or any other man. Unfortunately for Petra, what she wanted or didn’t want, was of little consequence and in the throes of her orgasm all that truly mattered at that moment, was the overwhelming intensity of her sexual pleasure.

This concentration on her own satisfaction; understandable though it was, did not please Bryce. Petra squealed as his hand applied several hard strikes to her buttocks and he snapped a brusque command for her to continue. Distracted by the stinging fire spread across her bottom, she complied unthinkingly and it was only several seconds later that it dawned on her that he had ordered her as if she was a slave ... and that she had obeyed as if she was a slave!

He had spanked her once and she was sure he would spank her again if she tried to stop. Defiance would only earn her a sore bottom and she’d be made to obey anyway, so what was the point? She was already very aroused and he was going to take her no matter what, so she might as well give in and enjoy it. After all, he had never actually said that he was going to enslave her, so maybe she was wrong and he was just having fun by pushing her limits? Petra didn’t really believe that, but it was better to pretend, than to face what she feared was the truth. She thrust the thought of slavery away and focussed her whole attention on extracting maximum pleasure from the rigid shaft impaling her. The tactic worked, but only at the twin costs of intensifying her own sexual heat and reinforcing his determination to enforce her total and permanent submission to his dominance.
Gripping her hips, he was able to control both the speed and depth of his penetration of her belly while she plunged up and down on his erect flesh and although Petra’s frustrated squeals clearly indicated that she longed for him to pull her down fully onto his groin and use her, he deliberately refused to heed her impassioned pleas until his own lust demanded satisfaction. Then and only then, did he take her completely, his strong hands pinning her tightly to his belly with the whole length of his throbbing maleness buried deeply while her internal muscles clamped and squeezed madly until his spend jetted to trigger her own second climax.

Laying back, he revelled in the warmth of her juices bathing his jerking flesh while she pulsed and shuddered, his eyes gleaming with pleasure at the depth and power of her orgasm and her utter inability to resist her own submissive passions. It was perfectly obvious to him that she was beginning to respond the way he wanted her to, and was well on the way to becoming his slave, but he suspected that she didn’t yet fully comprehend quite how all-pervasive his control of her was going to become. Like most good-looking adult women, especially highly-paid and respected models, she undoubtedly thought that her beautiful face and excellent body would always ensure she got her own way; insulating her from the difficulties less-attractive women had.

That had certainly been the case before the Chattel Act was passed, but times had changed and Petra was discovering that her face and figure were of no value in distracting him from his plan or let her be nothing more than the full slave he intended her to be. In calculating that Petra had underestimated his determination to transform her into his totally subjugated and obedient slave by controlling every single aspect of her life, he was absolutely correct.

Even after her vision of herself as his slave, her numerous submissions and the spanking he had administered to force her to pleasure him, she still didn’t want to believe he would do such an awful thing to her and had managed ... almost ... to convince herself that she was too famous and her face too well-known for it to happen. She knew she was beautiful and sexy and he couldn’t keep his hands off her, so, sooner or later, he would want to show her off to other men and she thought that then he would have to free her. That would be her chance to get away, or at least negotiate some sort of deal that would give her a reasonable amount of financial security and independence in return for allowing him to continue enjoying her body. It probably wouldn’t be a very good deal, compared to her former lifestyle, but it would be a whole lot better than being his slave. In the meantime, all she could do was wait and hope that she could hold onto her last few shreds of self-control.

Bolted through the main support beam of the ceiling in Bryce Patterson’s master bedroom were two large steel rings and from these, a pair of heavy steel chains hung down towards the floor. Dangling from the clips at the ends of the chains, Petra was suspended with her feet several inches clear of the floor, her rubber-clad form encased in a second sheath of thick, extremely tight, polished black rubber that covered every inch of her body apart from her long blonde hair and circular cut-outs around her wide, mutely-begging blue eyes. Where her lips would normally be was an oval of hard, white plastic containing two steel rings sandwiching her teeth and holding her mouth wide open, along with a small fitting connected to a narrow plastic feeding-tube to allow for liquids to be squirted directly down her throat. Her only other visible adornment, encircling her neck and securely locked, was a wide steel collar with a large front ring, but there was one further, hidden item that was the main cause of her distress.

Wedged deep into her sex, was a powerful, remote-controlled vibrator, similar to the one he had used on her before, but with an additional function that Petra had only learned about after she had been double-wrapped in rubber, then fitted with the awful gag and hung in her chains.

As well as transmitting irresistible arousal directly into her sex, to her horror she quickly discovered that it was also capable of applying awful electric shocks! These varied from a mild tingle all the way up to vastly cruel pulses that, while he had smilingly assured her were not harmful, would most certainly get her full attention.

On hearing this unwelcome news, Petra threw everything she had into a desperate bid to escape only to find that the outer sheath of thick rubber easily resisted her best efforts and limited her to nothing more than a slight and quite useless flexing of her dangling body. He watched her struggle, then chuckled that as she seemed to be content to hang around for a while and he had some business to attend to, he was sure she wouldn’t mind if he left her alone for a few hours. He assured her that he’d check on her every so often to give her a drink of water, but made sure she wouldn’t be bored by linking the remote-control of her vibrator to a program he had set up on his lap top computer. He called it his slave-training program and he was certain she’d find it interesting and instructive, even if uncomfortable and demanding.

Petra attempted to scream, but her gag only permitted a low-pitched howl to emerge. He chuckled again and told her that it was well past time she accepted that he wasn’t ever going to release her and she would spend the rest of her life as his slave. Her last, faint hopes of regaining her freedom crumbled to ashes for she knew that he meant every word and when he turned away and strode from the bedroom, her eyes filled with tears for herself and for the life she had once lived, but would never know again because she knew without doubt that she was going to become his slave and there wasn’t a thing she could do to prevent it.

True to his word, he came back every couple of hours to give her a drink ... and every time, he found her either shuddering in the grip of one of her many enforced orgasms, or writhing madly to the pulses of punishing electricity coursing through her most intimate and sensitive flesh ... or on several occasions, a mixture of both. The program was relentless, merciless and highly effective and by early evening Petra was no longer capable of even minimal resistance. She could only respond to both the shocks and the arousal with the same instant and automatic sexual passion and submission. Wanting to be certain that her subjugation was absolute, he gave her until midnight before finally switching off the device and releasing her from her suspension. Petra collapsed into his arms and was unconscious in seconds.

Taking her to his bed, he gently stroked her rubber-covered breasts and smiled when her nipples instantly stiffened although she never stirred. By the time Petra completed the remaining three sessions of the computerised slave-training program, she was a superbly responsive, helplessly submissive, irrevocably subjugated slave and of course regular refresher sessions would ensure she remained that way.

Some weeks later, Petra was no longer dressed in rubber. Bryce had decided that it was not sufficiently revealing for her and designed then had made, a costume that more accurately reflected her status as his prized possession ... entirely constructed of polished stainless steel. The wide collar locked around her throat was linked by three chains to a pair of locked-on breast-cups, these in turn linked by further chains to a narrow, tight waist-belt from which a carefully-shaped, chastity panel descended over her belly then passed between her legs to re-join the waist-belt at the rear. As always, her wrists were securely cuffed behind her back, but he had also added a black leather single-glove, lacing it from the tips of her fingers to her biceps, further restraining her arms and pulling her shoulders back so that her steel-cupped breasts jutted prominently.

Matching, thigh-high ballet-boots forced her to walk on her toes, emphasising her long, slender legs and limiting her paces, while the final element of her costume, a large, red ball-gag buckled between her soft lips, completed the image of erotically-controlled femininity she presented. Too, it ensured her silence until he chose to let her speak. After the long months of strict training and conditioning, he had finally achieved his aim and she was now the full slave he had dreamt of with her body so attuned to his touch, that a simple caress was all it took to ignite her passionate desire to pleasure him however he commanded. Her mind was now unable to overcome the programmed sexual responses he had deeply ingrained into her brain and body by the computerised slave-training she continued to undergo. The strict regime was used to reinforce her submission to her body’s unceasing need every day; toying with her defenceless body, taking her whenever he felt the need, or simply using the remote-control of the vibrator at other times always buried in her sex behind the locked front-plate of her chastity-belt, to arouse her to orgasm. Less often, but still far too frequently for Petra, it was employed to discipline her with its electric shock capability if she failed to perform whatever service he required of her to his complete satisfaction.

These powerful incentives, coupled with her constant and stringent bondage had given her no opportunity to resist or defy his slightest wish and were a constant reminder to her that she was his slave. As weeks and months passed with no let-up in her subjugation, she had been forced to accept her fate and resign herself, albeit with some reluctance, to her new life of obedience and sexual servitude.

Bryce Patterson’s transformation of Petra from super model to slave was complete and when he guided her through his house with his hand resting casually on the taut, smooth curve of her right buttock, he relished the look of humble obedience, submission and unmistakable longing in her eyes while she tottered along beside him in her ballet-boots. It was a look he had come to know well and it told him more clearly than any words could have, that she felt the sexual heat of a true slave simmering in her belly. He was well aware that even after months of slavery, she was still embarrassed by her inability to control it, although he, of course, felt the exact opposite and had worked hard to make quite certain that she was not permitted to escape her own demanding need.

For Petra, the knowledge that she would never be freed from her bondage and would spend the rest of her life serving Bryce Patterson as a sex-slave, was both a constant humiliation and yet, at the same time, oddly comforting. He had gone to such extreme lengths to enslave her that she knew he must have strong feelings for her and his determination to keep her for himself was in a way, a genuine compliment to her. Unfortunately though, he had expressed those feelings only with chains, gags and strict training, rather than the flowers and expensive gifts she had been more accustomed to and would have preferred. If only he had given her the chance after their first dinner-date, there would have been no need for such extreme measures, because she had already decided that having sex with him and even moving in with him was a far more attractive option than trying to cope on her own and make a living as a single female under the draconian, anti-woman, Chattel Act legislation.

Things could have been so different, but the past couldn’t be changed and while she obediently followed the man who might have been her lover, but was, instead, her owner, she shivered and felt her belly coil again with the fierce heat that had become her constant companion as his slave, in anticipation of the sexual service she knew she would soon be required to provide. In spite of the fact that she had no previous experience to call on, Petra found it surprisingly easy to master the skills and techniques of oral sex. She hadn’t wanted to and was terribly humiliated by the very idea, but he had given her no choice whatsoever! On her knees before him, her lips stretched into an ‘O’ by the ring-gag that held her mouth wide open, she had been unable in any way to resist when he gripped the sides of her helmeted head in his strong hands then slowly inserted his rigid erection through the steel circle for the first time.

She couldn’t pull back or away nor could she bite down on his flesh, or even squeal in outraged protest and when he began a slow, rhythmic pumping of his hips. Petra had been forced to overcome her shame at being so utterly helpless and concentrate on learning to breathe through her nose , timing her intake of air with his thrusts. Thankfully, he limited this first session to familiarising her with the basics of what he required, and had not made her accept the full length of his shaft, or allowed himself to come in her mouth. However, as her training progressed, he gradually increased the depth of his thrusts until she was able to take his entire maleness into her mouth and throat without retching. Even so, when he used her mouth fully for the first time and hot, salty jets of his spend burst into her throat, she coughed and spluttered until her natural survival instincts had taken over and she swallowed convulsively, gulping down the streams of his seed to save herself from choking.

After that, progress had been rapid, he seeing no further reason to hold back and Petra in no position to refuse. Not that she really wanted to, for in her sheer vulnerability, her pose of total humility at his feet, her enforced submission to his will and, above all, the hugely erotic symbolism of serving him in the most intimate possible way, she discovered the most incredible degree of sexual excitement and arousal. So intense was this revelation that it was almost painful and so she knelt submissively before her Master with her nipples achingly hard inside their steel prison, her belly burning like a furnace and rivers of her silvery juices trickling from her sex, out and around the tight, compressing steel that armoured her crotch, descending along her trembling, tightly booted thighs to betray the savage power of her desire and passion. Such heat could only be the mark of a true slave and he had not missed the opportunity to use her ferocious need to deepen her subjugation and extend his control.

Fetching the remote-control, he held it in front of her, watching the play of fear, lust and helpless humiliation in her eyes while she was forced to beg and beg into her gag for him to have pity on her and let her submit to the sexual storm ravaging her body. Only then, with her utter reliance on him fully reinforced, had he caressed the buttons that sent devastating vibrations ... sometimes, but not always, mixed with sharp electric shocks….raging through her loins to trigger orgasms of such power that when they had run their course, he‘d had to help her to stand. Even though crushingly corsetted by her ballet toed thigh boots, her legs were so shaky that she couldn’t stand unaided.

Petra understood exactly what was expected and while Bryce Patterson calmly stripped naked, she arched her spine and pulled her shoulders as far back as she could, then spread her thighs wider to display her body and her submission. Kneeling on the tiled wooden floor, she watched in eager, half-fearful anticipation when he turned and moved towards her, his long, fully-erect maleness jutting menacingly towards her ring-gagged lips; his eyes glittering with predatory anticipation. Two feet from where she knelt, he stopped to inspect her perfectly presented body, then nodded firmly. She had been trained not to move until given permission. Petra recognised the brief inclination of his head as the unspoken order it was and immediately shuffled forward until she could manoeuvre his rigid shaft through the steel ring jacking her mouth open. It slid into her mouth but she did not stop until her nose was buried in the coarse hair at the joint of his muscular thighs. He now made no effort to hold her in position and Petra’s arousal, already burning fiercely in her belly, rose higher at his casual arrogance and supreme confidence that she would accept his authority without question, as they both knew she would.

Slowly, savouring the bitter-sweet, deliciously-erotic humiliation of her enforced, but highly pleasurable servitude, Petra slid her mouth up and down his hard flesh, her tongue flicking lightly and her cheeks hollowing while she drew on all the skills she had learned to maximise his pleasure and ensure his total satisfaction; knowing that if he was not entirely happy with the results of her efforts, there would be a horrible price to pay. Although she served him well and rarely failed, Petra was never able or allowed, to forget that she was his slave and subject to any discipline he felt it necessary to apply. If she had done well, she was equally subject to the exquisite ecstasy of a full submission and helpless orgasmic surrender in the bonds and in the arms of her owner.

Nearly a year after they’d met, the limousine Petra stepped daintily from the same vehicle with the same chauffeur at same restaurant he had taken her to on their first dinner date. Bryce Patterson was the same wealthy, good-looking man he had been on that evening, but it was she that had changed. Petra stood with a locked steel collar on her throat, at attention beside the opened door, a glittering silvery leash looping from its anchorage on her bright chastity-belt to his right fist. She was no longer a famous, highly-regarded super model with the world at her feet, but only one of many millions of female chattels with no rights under the law and wholly dependent on a man to protect and support her. In her case, that man was Bryce Patterson and Petra was not only his chattel, but his full slave. Beneath the magnificent coat and ultra-short skirt he had supplied, she wore only her collar and chastity-belt, her breasts, for once, liberated from their steel cups, her arms released from their restraints and her feet relieved of the tyranny of the ballet-boots. Even her gag was gone and to a careless observer, she might have seemed free to do as she pleased.

She was not. The vibrator was locked deep in her sex and with the remote-control in his pocket, Bryce could easily send either devastating arousal or cruel pain shooting through the most intimate and sensitive parts of her body with a simple push of his finger. Petra knew he would not need that sanction for by now she could not even think of disobeying him or letting him down ... not because she couldn’t, but because she wouldn’t. Many months before, he had told her that she was lucky to be with a man who would always take care of her and although she hadn’t realised it at the time, she eventually came to understand that he was right. As his slave, she was required to obey him without question, submit without hesitation and serve him however he commanded, but in return he gave her shelter, warmth, security and more sexual attention and physical pleasure than she had ever known.

In his own way and despite the relentless control he insisted on imposing, she believed that he valued and cherished her, perhaps even loved her. If it hadn’t been for the pernicious effects of the Chattel Act, maybe he would have courted her, wooed her and asked her to become his wife, instead of enslaving her. It might have been, but it was not and as he led her through the busy restaurant, collared and leashed as his slave, Petra followed with her head held high; long, slim legs carrying her in the graceful, elegant way that had earned her so much money, applause and adulation as a catwalk super model in her former life. However, her former life was now only a fading dream.

Simultaneously doing her best to hide her embarrassment and ignore the buzz of speculation that accompanied her progress while her audience of diners, many of them middle-aged businessmen with surprisingly young and attractive female companions, recognised her, then saw her steel collar and the gleaming chain leading from beneath her skirt to Bryce Patterson’s hand. Clearly, even with the Chattel Act fully in force, slavery such as hers was still a rarity and worthy of comment.

Bryce and Petra were escorted to the best table in the restaurant by two attentive waiters who, although they tried not to make it obvious, couldn’t help but steal glances at the curves of her half-revealed breasts. Petra licked her lips nervously when she saw that there was only one chair and one place-setting and alongside, on the floor, a plump, red velvet cushion. She recognised the significance of the arrangement immediately and while a scorching heat filled her belly, she lifted her eyes to Bryce Patterson’s face in silent appeal. His eyes crinkled with humour, his lips curving into a warm, conspiratorial smile and he invited her to take her place with a wave of his hand. Petra understood that he was testing her and that she was not to dine at the table as his companion, but on her knees at his feet as his slave and pet. For an instant, she hesitated, then sank to her knees on the cushion and slowly brought her arms behind her back and crossed her wrists, holding his eyes with her own when she displayed her absolute obedience and submission.

His smile broadened and her lips parted eagerly when he bent to kiss her, his tongue plundering her soft mouth until she gasped for breath and her belly seethed and burned with passion when he whispered that he was extremely pleased and proud of his slave and would allow her a reward when they returned home. He nodded cheerfully, then coolly reminded her that her slave-chains would be refitted as soon as she was back at the house and Petra accepted the news with barely a qualm. She even managed a shy smile then told him she had never expected him to let her remain free for a second longer than was absolutely necessary. To finish she blushed and added quietly that she felt a little lost without their familiar weight and restriction and that she was actually looking forward to wearing them again, soon. It was the simple truth and he took her words at face value, then assured her that the next time he took her out in public, she WOULD be fully restrained. Petra knew he was not joking and gasped when the heat in her belly redoubled hearing this, then she clamped her lips together when he ordered her to remain silent. Her face reddened when he turned to the two gaping waiters and calmly ordered the meal without consulting or even looking at her. The hour that followed tested her obedience to the limit. Every eye in the room, including those of the grinning waiters and the other women, watched her being fed from Bryce Patterson’s hand. With each course, Petra’s desire grew stronger, fuelled by the thrilling eroticism of her public subjugation, until she could endure the inferno of arousal engulfing her no longer and broke her ordered silence to beg her owner to take her home and use her as the hot, needy slave she was, neither knowing nor caring that her desperate pleas were clearly audible throughout the room, or that everyone one in it heard him tell her that she would be punished for her disobedience. It did not matter, for Petra had become a true slave, with a true slave’s irresistible passion raging through every fibre of her being.

After they had both enjoyed the food, Petra shivered, her arousal almost overcoming her at the thought of the incredible vision of enslaved feminine subjugation she had presented to the other diners. At last he sat back and casually looped the leash from her gleaming, steel-armoured crotch over the arm of his chair. She gazed up at him, her eyes wide with desire and anticipation, then humbly murmured that she would do her utmost to ensure that he enjoyed the evening and her body when he permitted her to serve him.

The other men were obviously amused and clearly envious of his good luck, while the young women were intrigued and curious, but also anxious, in case their male companions might choose to impose the same strict discipline and control on them. Their concerns were fully justified, for like Petra, they too were subject to the Chattel Act, only free on the sufferance of men and could be enslaved as easily as she had been.

Petra’s passion would never dim or weaken and from which, like the chains she must wear and the absolute submission she must give for the rest of her life, she would never be able to escape ... and no longer wished to.

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