1 day

I wanted her to be reborn. I wanted to recreate her from scratch. In order to make a new person I had to start from the beginning.

While she was deeply asleep, due to the drugs I had given her, I had shaved her whole body bald. After the razor I had applied a depilatory cream whose effects would last for a year. A single chain surrounded her neck and tethered her to the wall, two strong padlocks sealing her fate. She would sleep on the cold cement floor but for a plastic inflatable mattress.

There was nothing more in her cell, in my basement, except for a shower and a toilet. No clothes, no furniture. She would have to earn them.

Those first days she was going to be treated like a baby. A baby who didn't deserve any love, and shouldn't expect any.

And yet, despite my pain, I had to do what I had to do.


5 days

She didn't attack me that day. Either hunger or acceptance, she didn't reject the food. It made sense, along those first days she had nothing more to do other than thinking and waiting.

Even her sex was beyond her reach. An oval shaped concave piece of glass covered by a transparent lining of semy hard plastic blocked her pussy. Many tiny holes along its surface let her bodily secretions flow. Along the flesh of her vagina, near half an inch above her lips, eight holes permanently opened thanks to eight soft pink plastic grommets held the shield. Eight filaments ended in a small plastic hook each passed through eight canals built inside the glass and plastic. Each hook passed through a grommet. All eight filaments converged around a hollow but strong carbon fiver screw in the middle of the shield, inside a slit. Rotanting the screw the filaments got shorter bringing the shield closer to her skin. The idea was that it touched but didn't apply pressure. An eight point star shaped piece blocked the ensemble inserting eight tiny metal pins into the canals and one more into the screw. To open and close it I needed a small electronic device, similar to the controller of a garage door. Bringing it very close to the star, less than half an inch, and pressing the button it activated a weak magnetic field that retracted the tiny pins of the star. There were only two controllers, one in my pocket and the other in a safe upstairs, in case the first one broke. I guessed she could open it somehow, but she knew she could hurt herself badly and, besides, I could drug her again and replace the shield with something worse.

Through the camera on the cell's ceiling I had caught her more than once, playing with her nipples and stopping after a while, frustrated. I had heard her screaming and cursing my name. I had watcher her crying to sleep, and hitting the wall with her fists. I had heard her begging and apologizing. Irrelevant. I had made clear that the rules were immovable. Obedience got rewarded, defiance got punished. Simple.


1 year, 3 months, 7 days

-It's growing.- I passed my hand over her scalp.

-Yes, Master.- She said trying to conceal her joy for some reason.

-Jenny.- I started in a serious tone.- Three months ago you kicked me in my groin.- While I talked I began to undone the ten buckles that held together her legs. The fabric of the trousers was thick and rough on the outside but soft in the inside. I was strict, not cruel. Four more straps, two in front and two more on the back joined together the pants to the straightjacket.

-Yes, Master, I...

-Don't apologize. It's pointless. The punishment is obvious.- I would unbuckle later the eight straps that closed the straight jacket at her back. Two long straps emerged from the tip of her hands, surrounded her torso and were cinched to two more buckles, each one below a breast.- Nine more months sleeping like this.

-Yes, Master, thank you.- I cleaned with my thumb a small tear that died barely after its birth.

-I have something for you.- I showed her the black corset. It would cover her whole torso, from her hips up to her chin, and from her lower back, to her nape. Within time, her spine would be perfectly straight and her abdomen an hourglass. Her breasts would be a bit tight inside the cups. Her eyes went wide.

-But, Master, why? I have done nothing to...

-This is not a punishment, darling. It's for your own good.- She frowned, a gesture she used to do when she didn't agree with my opinion.- But first...- From my sports bag I produced the magic wand and the bullet vibrator.- Lay down and open your legs for the weekly orgasm.

First of all I had to remove the chastity shield. The first weeks with that thing were very traumatic for her. She took it as a punishment. She started to behave inappropriately following a wrong reasoning: if I was going to punish her arbitrarily, then it didn't matter whether if she followed my rules or not. At last I could explain her that the shield was not a punishment, but it was there to help her focus on more productive matters than the complacency that ruined her life..., and mine.

Once removed I checked that her pussy reacted as it supposedly should, moistening the entrance. She already knew that I removed the shield for a reason and only one. I didn't tease. That would be confusing for her. She needed a strict routine and discipline, stupid mind games would be counterproductive.

I applied the magic wand for a few minutes. After so much practice I knew when she was ready, so I activated the bullet and brought it closer to her clit. She gasped softly and enjoyed her weekly orgasm. Finally I cleaned her with a napkin and locked her again, freeing her from the temptation.


3 years, 4 months, 21 days

-Tell me the news, darling.- I gave her the letter and she read it.

-I'm in.- Tears of joy appeared on her eyes.- I'm in, Master!- She jumped from her chair and hugged me.

-Hey! Calm down, sweety. A lady must keep her composture at all times, no?

-Yes! I'm sorry, Master.

She sat again in her comfy swivel chair in front of her big wooden desk. She quickly checked her plaid skirt looking for any inopportune crease. Then she reajusted her tie and the sleeves of her shirt and cardigan. The upper part of the corset's neck was still visible between the collar of her shirt and the front locks of her Bob haircut.

As usual she immediately assumed the posture I had taught her. Her back perfectly straight against the back of the chair. As her interlocutor was positioned slightly to her left, she musted position her ass slightly to the right to face me, her legs closed, the right one on top of the left one. On top of her right thigh her left hand and then the other one, as long as she wasn't using them. If her interlocutor were about to move to her right, either she could turn the chair, or change her position.

That rule regarding her body language had three objectives: One, she had to show respect to whomever was talking and pay attention. Second, she have to be disciplined and serious, the more the better. Impulsiveness and emotivity were useless at best. Third, both her legs and hands physically and aesthetically blocked the access to her crotch.

The third rule was unnecessary at that point but might be useful in the future. At the end of our ten year agreement she would regain control of her sexual life. And that was the point, she had to be in control and not the other way around.

Along the years I had been buying more furniture for her cell, including a bathtub, a bed, shelves for her many books and a closet. It wasn't luxurious at all, but it was quite comfortable and she was happy with them.

She had passed the last exam of the adult school a few months ago. Now a college that worked mostly online had accepted her application. She wanted to study  literature and philology and her grades were good enough.

-Ok, so I'm going to change the configuration of your internet connection, and... I don't know, do you want..., something?

-Well, thank you, Master. You are very kind. Actually..., I wanted to tell you something, if I may.

-Sure, go ahead.- I sat on the bed as there weren't more chairs. She turned around to face me.

-It's complicated.- She made a pause, looking for the words, I guessed.- Along the years you've been changing rules, applying punishments and giving rewards. The thing is that I don't quite agree with you very often. Apologies, Master.

-Never apologize for giving your opinion as long as you do it respectfully, dear. Could you be more specific?

-Yes, Master. Very often, what you consider a reward, may be incovenient for me. For example, several times the weekly orgasm has interrupted me when I was reading a book or doing anything else. In those situations I would consider a reward that you just...

-Let you read.- Her reasoning made sense so far.

-Yes, Master. On the other hand, when you punished me making me eat all my sandwiches cold for a month I liked it because you always toast the bread too much.- I laughed, more for shame than anything else, and she joined me.- My point is that I don't see much difference between what you consider rewards or punishments and what you consider logical rules.- She made a pause, I nodded to indicate her to keep going.- Of course, I appreciate when you try to please me, and... I don't know...- She made a short pause.- I like the corset, and I thought I would hate it. You are understanding me, yes?

-Perhaps we should improve our communication.- She nodded.- You are going to need to trust me. You need to understand that I would never hurt you on purpose. That I'm doing all this for a reason, even if you don't understand me.

-Master...- She caressed my cheek with the back of her hand and then placed it over mine, squeezing softly my fingers.- Of course I trust you. Do you trust me? If I ask you, as a reward for being a good student, to open that heavy iron barred door, and let me go upstairs, so we can watch together a movie on the couch, would you trust me?- I stared at the wall for too long trying to solve that dilemma. When I looked back at her, tears run down her cheeks. She hadn't uttered a single noise.- I trust you, Master. Whatever your reward might be, I'm going to be thankful.- Her hand returned to her thigh.

I have to admit that I was a coward that day. Not only for not trusting her, but also because I didn't say just then what I was thinking: that she was right.


6 years, 1 month, 14 days

She was sitting on the carpet. A bunch of loops of rope encircled half of her shins and held her ankles together, the knot in the middle. A few more loops of rope surrounded both her neck and her legs close to her knees. I admired the flexibility of her back.

Two more coils of rope bound together her arms, elbows touching, the loops covering half her uper arms and almost all her forearms. For the position of her shoulders I gussed that she was enduring a lot of tension. A last rope joined the rope binding her forearms with a hook pinned to the ceiling, thus keeping her arms in a ninety degree angle respect to her legs and torso.

-Two hours, I'm freeing you now.- I undid first the rope that linked her arms to the ceiling.

-No, Master. Ankles and neck first, please.- I did as she said. Instead of getting up she opened her legs to her sides, until they made a perfect straight line, perpendicular to her torso, her toes still pointing to the ceiling. Then she straightened her back placing her hands on the floor. Resting her weight on her arms still bound, she arched her back upwards, and, in the same movement, gyrating her feet forward and bringing them a bit closer, making an inverted V, still a straight line for any observer from above. Then she brought her feet closer arching her back even more and, with a swift push, she did a somersault backwards. Her shoulders bent in a rather extreme angle, in my opinion. Finally she just stood and looked at me with a huge smile.

-Show off.- I clapped sincerely impressed. She showed me her still bound arms and I released her quickly. I had bought her a bunch of DVDs about aerobic and gimnastics a year ago, and she took as a personal project to do everything she saw there.

-Thanks, Master.- She went to her bed and grabbed the corset laying there. She put its bottom around her head and standing still and stretching her urms upwars it fell down. She got her arms into their proper holes in the same movement.- Master, please?- She turned around and pointed at her back.

I tied the strings tightly on her neck and lower back. Along the years her body had taken a beautiful hourglass shape. She might seem delicate from afar, but looking closely her muscles all around her body, specially thighs and calves, were obvious. She finally put on her pink summer dress. She came to me holding her hands together on her lower back.

-Shoes.- She looked at her feet and blushed. She quickly fitted a pair of moccasins. I bent slightly my back and offered her my hand, palm upwards, the other one at the small of my back.- Your dinner is ready, milady.

-Milord.- She giggled, made a quick curtsey bending slightly her knees and took my hand. We had been dinning together in the living room the last months.

8 years, 7 months, 3 days

She came home at 6.15, a bit late. She hanged her coat on the foyer and left her backpack on the floor. She came to the kitchen, gave me a peck on the cheek, to which I responded likewise, sighed loudly and poured herself a glasss of wine.

-Master?

-What?

-Are you ok?

-Yes, I...- I had to admit, to my shame, that I hadn't heard what she was telling me because I got distracted looking at how well fitted her legs that knee length leather skirt and that turtleneck sweater her abdomen. The waist cincher below she herself had bought proved to be a great addition.

-So my point is, teenagers..., ugh.- She stuck out her tongue. Apparently she had been telling me an anecdote about her day at work and I wasn't paying attention. She was an assistant English teacher in a local highschool.

-Sorry, dear, I got distracted.- She took the last sip of wine, undid the ribbon holding her bun so her hair cascaded down her back almost reaching her buttocks, took off her glasses and scratched her nose next to her eyes, clear sign of her weariness.

-Don't worry, Master. It doesn't matter.

I took her hand and led her to the living room. I instructed her to strip of her sweater, and bra and helped her with the cincher. Then I made her lay face down on the couch.

-If it matters to you, it matters to me.- She seemed tense, not physically, but emotionally, so I gave her one of those massages you give when you don't know what else you can do.

-Forget it, Master. I'm just tired.- She closed her eyes and relaxed.

-Perhaps we could bend the rules today and... Would you want an orgasm?

-Master!- She looked at me as if I were a Martian.- Don't be sassy. Not the day, not the time.

-Ok! Sorry for asking. Holy shit...- I growled.

-Master! Don't grumble, please.

9 years, 11 months, 30 days

She was sitting at the table in front of me. We were holding hands. My own feelings surprised and confused me. The time had come. I had to do my part.

-You have a job, you superb vice-principal and English teacher.- She smiled and thanked me for the praise with a small bow bending slightly her back and neck.- You have money saved. You are healthy. You are beautiful.- She blushed.- Inside and outside.

-Master, please...- A small tear ran down her cheek. I quickly killed it with my thumb.

-Don't cry, my dear. I'm not worth it, trust me.- She frowned and shook her head.- It's time.- From my sports bag I produced the key to her cell, the controller of her chastity shield and her two vibrators and put them on the table.- Your life is yours to do as you please. I'm not your Master anymore and...- My voice broke for a moment. I braced myself for the next sentences.- …, I will never, ever, request anything from you that I don't have the right to request. Which is nothing.

-Master!- I got up and left the room running like a fucking coward. Yay me.

10 years, 4 months and..., who cares? Why am I writing this shit? Nobody is fucking reading this diary. Stupid! Stupid!

-Master?

-Jenny, it's Bruce, please. I'm not Master of anything.

We were in the living room in opposite sides of the couch. She was preparing her lesson for the next day and I was reading a book.

I offered to help her find another place but she wanted to stay. As my house was already paid, we just shared regular expenses like food and water. We both were quite frugal, specially her, so our bank account just kept growing. She was still sleeping in the basement because my daughter's room would bring back terrible memories, in her opinion.

-I'm going to call you whatever I want and you won't request anything from me because you lost that privilege, remember?- She said in a surprising tone of reproach.

-Okey...- I resumed my book.

-Master!

-What?- She startled me a bit. She was gazing at me with a disturbingly intense look.

-I, eh...- She hesitated.- When I remove the shield and use my vibrators... Is not... The same.- What the fuck?

-The batteries?- Was she still using the shield? Why?

-No, eh... Is not..., the same.

-Jenny, please, I'm tired, I have to wake up early tomorrow and you too. Tell me what do you need and I'll do my best.

-Ok, I...- She paused for a moment.- Why did you never..., wanted to have sex with me?- What!? Where was that coming from?

-Eh...- I gave it a good thought.- Look I was in a position of power and..., I guess that would be rape, so to speak. Besides, that was beyond the point.

-What was the point?- She raised an eyebrow.

-Making sure that you would be ok.

-That I would be ok... Well, I'm ok.- She shugged her shoulders.- Now what? What's the point now?

-Now the point is...- The point of what, I wondered.- The point of what, Jenny?- I was more confused by the minute.- What do you want from me? I don't understand shit.

-It wouldn't have been rape, I'd say, except during the first year. That's all.- She made a face for a moment but returned to her work.

-Eh... Beg you pardon?- Had I heard correctly?

-You said that I'm beautiful, no? I have a pair of wooers waiting, but... It wouldn't be the same.- She pouted, just for a second.

Very well. There it was. Message sent, message received. What should I do, when my logic crumbles and the sun rises in the west? Was that right? Had my penitence been enough? And hers? Would I dare to be a man after so many years pretending to be much more..., or much less? Is there justice for the honest and the humble?

-Milady...- My left knee on the floor, my right elbow on my right knee, my right hand over my heart, my head bowed, my left hand above it, palm up, eyes closed.- Am I worthy?

I expected that she would hold my hand but instead she placed something on it. I didn't open my eyes but recognized the shape and weight. It was the controller for her chastity shield.

-Milord...