“Oh c’mon, its practically a requirement of going to a carnival in the first place!” Joan bounced up and down, tugging at Ethan’s arms, “Don’t you want to know what the future holds?” The petite girl’s red riding hood costume was definitely the right choice for her, Ethan thought, as he was momentarily distracted by just how…bouncy she was. Hardly fair, and probably what Joan was counting on.

Ethan snorted and gestured at the lurid sign set up next to them that declared: Fortunes! Futures! All Can Be Revealed By The Marvelous Madame Mystic. The two young university students had come to the carnival with a whole gang of others, but the large group had split up almost immediately. It was, after all, the adult version of a Halloween carnival. Lots to see, lots to do, and lots of fun to be had.

“You really buy this sort of thing?”

Joan rolled her eyes and opened her mouth with what was sure to be some snarky retort, only to have a warm, velvety voice interrupt her,

“Perhaps experiencing it will cure you of your doubts, hmmm?”

Both of them gave little starts of surprise, and turned towards the raised platform in front of the tent flap. A woman stood there, dark eyes sparkling beneath the shadow of her darker hair that flowed and settled about her shoulders and voluptuous chest. She wore a flowing silk garment, and colourful scarves that outlined and complimented her hair, but wore soft brown leather pants, and lighter calfskin boots. Her smile seemed to both reassure of her friendly intentions, but also hint at mysteries within her tent. She was precisely the sort of person that one would assume worked as a fortune teller at an adult Halloween carnival.

“Uuhhh…” Ethan temporized but Joan gave an excited squeal and nodded, “We are interested!! Can we both do it?”

“Of course,” The woman, who had to be Madame Mystic, gave another smile, and then held up a restraining finger, “But the process is a rather…intimate one. I believe you will both get far more out of the experience if you go one by one.” Her eyes twinkled as her voice washed over them, gentle, commanding, reassuring, “After all, your futures are yours. Your choices and decisions are the only ones that matter in seeing them come about, are they not?”

“Awesome!” Joan was bouncing again, and dragged Ethan forward to stand by the base of the wooden plank stairs. When he tried to gently press her forward first, she just grinned at him and shoved him up towards the carnival woman, “Oh no you don’t. If I go first you’ll just skip out and meet me on the other side.” She waggled a playful finger as he turned back to dispute the point, and pointed him imperiously back up towards Madame Mystic. Ethan grumbled good-naturedly and turned back, blushing a little as the fortune-teller took him by the arm to guide him into her tent, and hearing Joan's muffled giggles.

The inside of the tent reflected Madame Mystic’s occupation to a t. Plush carpeting and a profusion of candles gave the interior a warm, intimate sort of feeling. Mysterious books, boxes, and all other manner of more or less mystical items lay scattered around in an arrangement whose purpose escaped Ethan as he walked in. It should have felt crowded, but instead it had the sort of feeling one might get when going to an old used book store, perhaps. Crowded, but in a good way. He mentally shrugged. Or something like that. Mystic guided him towards the centre of the tent, where she sat him at a small round table, on which a large crystal ball was emplaced.

Ethan sat and stared at the object for a moment before looking up. A pair of doors, openings really, were across from him. Thick curtains were drawn across both, and a sign between them proclaimed: EXIT TO YOUR FUTURE. Ethan managed to not snort out loud, though it was an effort, and settled himself in for the show. He had no particular animus against this sort of thing, just felt that it was a waste of his time. After all, there were a great many other attractions to take in tonight, and he didn’t much look forward to—

His train of thought was suddenly derailed as Madame Mystic wafted back over to the table, brushing past him and leaving a lingering, alluring scent in the air as she went. Ethan’s eyes lidded involuntarily, and he found himself breathing more deeply as her hand briefly squeezed his shoulder,

“There now, that’s a good boy. Just relax, breathe deeply, and open yourself up to the possibilities of the future.” Her warm velvet voice soothed any residual irritation he felt, calmly blanketing it in a pleasant relaxing sensation. He didn’t think to object as she covered his outstretched left hand in hers, nor when fingers tilted his head up slightly to look into her eyes, “Well now, my bold, brave boy. What sort of future shall we find for you, I wonder?”

Ethan returned her smile with an ease that he didn’t normally find within himself. Hell, she was good at doing this part of the trick at least. Not a minute inside the tent and he felt like he could talk with her about…about anything really. That must help with the whole future prediction thing.

Mystic was meanwhile rubbing one hand over the orb in the centre of the table, the other continuing to cover and gently stroke Ethan’s own. Pleasant smells wafted about Ethan, and he dimly realized that she must have lit some sort of incense burner or something. That had to explain it then. Some sort of relaxing spice or other. He settled into his chair, not thinking to object to it. After all, this was her show.

“Hmmmm…” Mystic began to murmur soft words that Ethan couldn’t quite hear, her eyes now intent on the swirling crystal orb in front of her. Wait. He frowned for a moment, his own eyes now focused on the crystal. Had that been swirling like that when he came in? It was…odd. He tried to concentrate on that concept, but it kept slipping away from him. There was a reason that was odd, but he couldn’t quite place it. He leaned forward in his seat to get a better view of the odd orb.

“That’s it. Yes,” Mystic encouraged him, briefly squeezing his hand in approval, “Look deeply into the orb. Breathe. In and out, nice and deep. Listen to my words. Just breathe, and look, and listen. Your future will begin to come into shape. Don’t concentrate, just let it come.” Mystic’s voice was even, soothing, and exceedingly smooth. Ethan felt that he could get lost listening to it even if she had been discussing the weather. He quirked a small smile at that, and peered more closely at the orb. It definitely was swirling, because he thought he could see…something. There was something underneath the mists.

“Yessss…” Mystic’s voice was softer, “You see something, hmmm? The beginnings of a future unfold before you then. Just remember, sweet boy, that it is your choices that will bring these futures to pass. All I offer here are…possibilities…” I have your best interests at heart.

Ethan wanted to snort at that. Of course she wasn’t going to guess. After all, to guess would be to set herself up for failure. But somehow…somehow he couldn’t. She had been so kind to him after all. She was so welcoming, so warm. Nurturing almost. She had his best interests at heart, so why should he belittle what she did? Why should he…resist?

Now that was an odd thought. Ethan wanted to blink at it, but his mind refused to go back to it. The orb was the interesting thing after all. And minds played silly tricks on people now and again. Especially when they were tired, and Ethan suddenly felt very tired indeed. Not physically, not wanting sleep. No, tired of…something. Let me do the thinking sweetheart.

He gave a sudden start as the mist within the orb began to clear, and Mystic’s voice corralled him once more, “Ah yes…I sense you are tired, aren’t you? Hmmm? Wanting to forget for a while. Wanting to surrender your burdens.” Ethan nodded along, enjoying the sensations of her hand caressing his own. He noted absently that she had shifted around the table, sitting right beside him now. That was better though. More comfortable for her, and she was closer to him. Which was good. Madame Mystic had his best interests at heart after all. You are so tired of responsibility.

“Let me show you some of the futures that await you down that path,” Mystic’s voice seeped into his ears, even as Ethan’s vision narrowed to a swaying picture of the orb and its contents. He saw himself. He saw an exhausted young man. He felt that. He saw a version of himself begging someone, kneeling in front of them. What an odd thing for him to do…wasn’t it? It didn’t seem odd, as he watched the scene further unfold. You belong on your knees.

Ethan watched as the orb version of himself was enfolded in a hug by…someone. He couldn’t quite tell, but he knew they wanted to look after him. Had his best interests at heart, just like Madame Mystic. What would it feel like, he suddenly wondered, to kneel in front of someone and ask for…what? To be cared for? Looked after? You need to surrender.

He blinked, bemused for a moment, as he watched the orb version of himself buckle leather straps around his wrists and kneel as that same shadowy figure came back, and buckled a collar around his neck. That was strange. Or, Ethan supposed, it would be strange if a stranger did that. Especially to me, he figured. I wouldn’t want just anyone to buckle a collar around my neck, he thought to himself. You need a collar.

Mystic’s voice was still rolling over him. Through him. As she sat next to him, hugging herself to him. Murmuring reassurances to him. Ethan found himself feeling at peace as he watched his future self. Someone like Madame Mystic…someone who cared for him…who looked out for him…that would be all right he supposed. It would make sense to be collared and cared for by someone like Madame Mystic. You want to serve me.

Ethan stared as the image within the orb shifted. It was still him, but different. Now he looked…better. Happier. More natural. Dressed in a shiny, slick, black latex catsuit. His arm bound in leather, his legs clad in black leather boots, his mouth covered by a leather panel gag. Around his neck, that collar from before. And shining in his future self’s eyes, as he knelt there in bondage in front of the person who cared for him, was a joy that Ethan couldn’t recall feeling so deeply before. You want to be owned by me.

Ethan found himself getting lost. The whispers. The images. The smells. He whimpered slightly. It was too much. He was so tired. He just wanted…needed…

“You need to choose,” Mystic’s voice was soft. Encouraging. Her arms were around him, her breath a comforting breeze about his ear, “My sweet boy, you must choose how you will exit this tent. I have shown you a small fraction of a possible future. You have reached a fork in your life’s road.” She traced her fingers along his throat, and he looked at her hopefully as she continued, “The exit on the left will return you to the stress and burden of the world. The exit on the right will lead you…deeper. Farther in.”

She brushed her fingers once more across his cheek, “Choose, my sweet boy. Your future awaits.”

Ethan stayed seated for only a moment or two more. He wanted to be happy. What reasonable person wouldn’t want to be happy? There didn’t seem to be any real choice to the matter, but he would humour Madame Mystic. He got up and smoothly knelt at her feet. That was the proper way to treat her after all, she had been so kind to him. He looked up at her, at her sparkling eyes, at her warm smile. How could he have ever thought such a woman was here to con people. She was here to help, like she had helped him.

“I want to be happy Madame Mystic.”

She reached down and cupped his chin in her hand, “Then you know the exit you must take.”

Ethan nodded, fortified in her approval, and got back to his feet. He squared his shoulders and walked slowly over to the exits. He drew aside the velvet curtain covering the right hand side, and went through. On the other side of the curtain was a long hallway, with mirrored sides that reflected himself back at him as he went. His reflections moved oddly, like they were slightly out of sync with him as he marched down the long walk towards the far end. Ethan watched them, and the changes began to become distinct, even as the whispers from Madame Mystic’s chambers seemed to follow him as he went.

His reflections now seemed to be enacting some of the scenes he had seen in the orb. Versions of himself kneeling in front of a shadowy figure, sometimes clothed, sometimes not. In all cases, he was pleading with them. Begging them for…protection? Ownership? Something. In all cases the shadowy figure enfolded him in a hug. Taking him under its wing. The scenes that followed were as various as the reflections that portrayed him. He was dressed in latex, in leather, in rubber, in silks, in nothing at all. He was bound with all manner of restraints, he was gagged, ungagged, hooded, bareheaded. Sometimes caged, sometimes pulling carriages, sometimes cleaning boots with his tongue. Sometimes, many times, in the throes of ecstasy.

In all of them though, the shadowy figure was there. Watching over him. Protecting him. Reassuring him. Commanding him. Owning him. For, as Ethan neared the end of the hallway, he became certain that that was what the shadowy figure meant to him. His owner. His protector. The shadows lifted as he neared the hallway’s exit, and when Ethan exited the hallway it was with a smile on his face. Madame Mystic owned him.

The chamber beyond turned out to be another tent, though much less furnished than Madame Mystic’s had been. A large table was set up along Ethan’s right with a plethora of bondage restraints, with several clothing racks on his left with row on row of fetish clothing. Two women were standing there as well, and they smiled at him as he stumbled to a halt.

“Hello sweetheart. Are you ready for your future?”

Ethan nodded, still smiling. He was going to be taken care of. He didn’t need to worry about responsibilities any more. The two women sensually stripped him of his garments. The old Ethan would have blushed and tried to cover himself, squeaking about his dignity. But the new Ethan didn’t have to worry about that. Madame Mystic wouldn’t want him to do that while her helpers were helping him. So he stood patiently, cooperatively, as the two women began to dress him. Slick black latex soon covered him from neck to feet. His arms drawn back into a snug armbinder, and boots laced to his legs. One of the women coaxed a bit gag between his teeth, and cooed happily at him when he eagerly took it in his jaws. He preened a little under their congratulations as more bits were strapped to him, and again when his collar was locked around his neck.

After that he was leashed and led out of the tent by the taller woman, her companion remaining behind. Ethan followed along without fuss, reveling in his new found freedom. He was owned by Madame Mystic, and she would take care of him. He trotted along behind, his leash every now and then tugging at him, and eventually reached the back of a large trailer. The woman opened the doors at the rear of the trailer, and Ethan immediately heard a few hopeful moans come from within.

“Sorry my lovelies, Madame Mystic is just handling the final recruit of the evening.” The woman reassured as she pulled Ethan inside, “But then we’ll be on our way to the wonderful futures you’ve chosen for yourselves.”

Happy, or at least placated moans answered her, and Ethan got a good look at the trailer as he entered. The rear third, where he had entered, was kitted out as a small sitting area. A decent sized couch with a swing out table was bolted to one side, while on the other a small tv was mounted into a wall above a couple of cupboards and a mini-fridge. The remaining two thirds had been sectioned off into stalls, which was where the moaning was coming from. Six stall doors, four of them locked shut, and two standing open. Ethan was led over to one.

Inside the stall was a small humped object with a jutting plug coming up. In front of that was a small tv screen, with wiring running from the tv and the humped object to a small control interface near the door. A small cupboard completed the furnishings.

“Home sweet home,” the woman leading him said, “Let’s get you settled in.”

“…are now Madame Mystic’s slave. You love being a slave. You love obeying your owner, and her friends. You are eager to serve. Madame Mystic—“

Ethan’s contented listening to Madame Mystic’s voice was broken by the sound of a door opening. He moaned in hope, trying to twist his head around to see if it was Madame Mystic herself. He moaned as his shifting made the plug inside him press in interesting ways, and for a few moments was distracted by the sensations coming from his plug.

“There’s my brave boy,” Ethan straightened and let out a happy moan. He knew that velvety warm voice!

Soft hands were suddenly pressed around him, feeling up his latex covered chest, and caressing his collar, “Ooooh, my pet. I just knew you would look darling in a latex slave outfit. Isn’t this a wonderful future?”

Ethan nodded firmly, “Mmmhhmmm! Fhaankk oouuu Maffvaammee Iffyyiicccc”

“Such a polite pet already!” Her lips brushed a soft kiss across the back of his neck, sending a bolt of pleasure searing through him, “You made the right choice, becoming my slave. And guess what?”

“Mmmm?”

“Your lovely friend Joan decided she wanted to serve me as well! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Mystic’s hands were gripping and groping him in such amazing ways. Ethan nodded, and moaned in gratitude. Of course it was. Being Madame Mystic’s slave was the best thing to happen to him. It just made sense that Joan had seen that too. He rolled his hips forward and back, moaning as her touches and the plug’s vibrations made pleasure surge within him.

“Ooooh,” Her fingers pinched at his nipples, and she gave a delighted giggle, “Already yearning for an orgasm are we?” Ethan nodded eagerly, and Mystic patted his head, “Well I’m sorry my love, but you need to complete your lessons first. Another six hours listening to your recordings and then, if you’ve memorized your mantra,” her lips brushed his ear once more, “I’ll lead you to the lands of pleasure. How does that sound my sweet slave?”

Ethan nodded once more, a glazed smile behind his gag. He would obey. He would learn. He owed it to Madame Mystic.

She knew what was best for him after all.