"God, God, please don’t let Him look at me again," I repeat to myself, over and over, inside my head. "Just let me do my job, let Him walk on." I knew that I was capitalizing the "h" in the pronoun, even inside my head. I never did that for Master.

I was trying to work, just doing my job at the store, when He walked in. It was His eyes that attracted me. His eyes first, then His long, straight brown hair. But I made the mistake of letting Him catch MY eyes in His, and I knew, right then and there, that He owned me.

This, of course, was a problem, because I already HAD a Husband/Master at home.

Nothing I wore outwardly marked me as a submissive. My clothing covered my slave tattoo and my piercings were hidden. I wasn’t wearing a collar. But somehow, instinctively, He knew I was a slave, just as I knew He was a Dom.

I kept my eyes downcast, busy with my work. I heard Him approaching.

"Excuse me miss?" He asked, forcing me to look at Him.

I looked up. "Yes… Sir?" I said, trying ever so hard not to emphasize the word "sir," although we were both aware that I failed miserably.

His eyes captured mine again. "I believe you’re done working now. Come with Me please."

Feeble protests ran through my mind. I couldn’t leave; I needed my job. I wasn’t finished for hours. My husband, my children, my Master…

"Yes, Sir," I said, taking off my apron, folding it neatly and laying it on the counter. I followed Him meekly out the front doors. If someone had tried to stop me, I could have turned back. No one did.

He gallantly opened the door to His expensive car for me. I don’t remember what make or model it was, nor do I remember the colour. "Sit," He suggested. I sat. He closed the door gently. I folded my hands nervously in my lap, and looked at the handle to the glove compartment.

He got into the car beside me, and pulled His door shut. He put the key in the ignition and the car started quietly. He put a CD into the stereo and soft techno-trance music started playing. He backed out of the parking space and began to drive.

"Look at Me, girl," He said with soft power in His voice. I looked at Him, avoiding His eyes. God, He was gorgeous. What did He want with me?

"I will be careful with you," He said, reassuring me. "I will do what I like to you, however. You will do as I say."

"Yes, Sir," I whispered, just loud enough for Him to hear.

"Don’t worry, girl, your husband won’t even know anything happened. I’ll have you home safe and sound exactly when he was expecting you."

"How did You know I was married?" I asked, nervously. He smiled gently and pointed at my wedding bands. "Oh," I said stupidly, twisting the rings around my finger.

"May I ask a question, Sir?" I said, pointlessly. I already HAD asked a question. I waited to see if I would be reprimanded for it.

"You may speak until I tell you not to, girl," He informed me.

"Why me, Sir? What made you choose me?"

"Because you want to be broken. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. Your husband, or Master, or whatever you call him, he hasn’t done it for you yet. You’re struggling with who you are and how you feel. I’ll solve the struggle for you, and send you home much more secure in who you are. Maybe it will help you both," He added, almost as an afterthought.

"Can I ask You to stop?" I whispered.

"Would you ask me to stop?" He questioned, almost laughing.

"I don’t think I could," I admitted.

"Then you just answered your own question, girl."

I was quiet for a few minutes. I had a million questions to ask, and all of them were pointless. I don’t believe He would have answered me if I had asked Him where we were going, or what His name was. Or… if I would ever see Him again after this afternoon.

He broke the silence for me. "Unbutton your blouse and take it off."

It was broad daylight, on busy Toronto streets. I didn’t even hesitate. I pulled off my blouse and folded it in my lap.

"Put it in the back seat," He told me. I did as He said.

His hand slid behind my back, causing me to break out in goose bumps. He unhooked my bra. I was blindly pleased that I had chosen to wear a black lace bra and matching panties today. Providence, I figured.

"Take off your bra, and unzip your skirt," He ordered me. I did as He commanded, folded my bra and placed it in the back seat without being told to. My breasts stood out, proudly, the piercings in my nipples catching the sunlight and sparkling. I didn’t look up to see if the other drivers on the road were noticing.

He pressed a button and my window slid down. The cool spring breeze blew across my breasts, causing my nipples to harden.

"Lift up your ass, girl, and pull off your skirt and panties."

"Yes, Sir," I said, doing as He commanded. I sat back down on the slick leather seats, wearing nothing now but a garter belt, black stockings and my high heels.

"Very pretty," He complimented, stroking my smoothly shaved pussy.

My entire body shuddered at His touch. It had been a long time since a man other than my husband had touched me. The sensation was electrifying.

"My guess," He began, stroking my shaved pussy lips, "Is that your husband…"

"Master," I said softly.

"Ok," He agreed, "Your Master, loves you too much to make you his slave. Never for an instant, think that I love you. I will care for you, but I will use you. To Me, you are a plaything. And that’s what you crave, isn’t it, girl? To be a plaything?"

"Yes, Sir," I admitted, blushing as my pussy became wetter and wetter.

"You will be My slave. Even if it’s only for this afternoon, girl. You are Mine."

"Yes, Sir, I am Yours," I repeated.

A trucker pulled up beside us at a red light and wolf-whistled. He honked his horn.

"Spread your legs for him, slut. Show him your cunt."

I did as He commanded. My pussy lips were slick with my juices. I spread my legs wide. He pulled apart my lips, and showed the trucker my clit piercing. My entire body glowed with the heat of my blush.

I could hear the trucker saying lewd things to me, encouraging me.

"Play with your clit girl, give the man a show."

I ran the fingers of my left hand over my clit and pussy lips, so that the trucker could watch. I pinched my nipples with my right hand.

The light turned green, and He sped away, leaving the trucker frustrated and horny behind us.

We drove for 20 minutes in the warm spring sunshine, out past the city limits and into the country. He had me masturbate myself to orgasm three times before we pulled into His long, paved driveway. Before I was allowed to leave the car, I had to clean my juices from the seat of His car with my tongue. As I lapped up my cum, His hand fell smartly across my ass cheeks, trying to speed me up. Apparently, He had many plans for me, and only a few hours to get through them all.

I knelt in front of Him beside the car as He padlocked a leather collar around my neck and snapped a leash onto it. He made me crawl on my hands and knees beside Him, in the grass, to keep myself from damaging my knees on the pavement. I had to crawl very quickly to keep up with His long strides.

When He got to the door, a butler opened it. He made small chit chat with the butler, never once mentioning me, ignoring me completely. The butler didn’t mention me either, but pushed me along the hallway with his foot to get me out of the way of the door so that he could close it.

"So this is nothing new to the serving staff here," I thought, as I crawled as fast as I could to keep up.

He let me stand up to walk down a curving flight of stairs, quaintly lit by flickering candles. I saw where there were light bulbs, but they weren’t lit, so as not to ruin the ambiance. The stairway opened into a huge room.

"Welcome to the playroom girl," He said. "Get down on your belly on the floor."

I flattened myself onto the floor, looking at His highly polished shoes. I heard the sound of high-heels clicking on the stone floor and saw a woman’s shapely legs, wrapped in laced-up patent-leather boots stand beside His.

"A new toy, Master?" I heard a throaty voice ask. I wondered how she became so favoured to be able to call Him that.

"Yes, darling. Put her on the rack please," He answered her, and He walked away.

The girl was no weakling. She practically picked me up by the hair, making me whimper. She gathered my hair into a knot at the back of my head and steered me towards the rack; one of many different bondage apparatus in the room. I didn’t get a chance to see much, before she strapped me onto my back on the rack, which was tilted back so I was half standing, half lying down. My ankles were clamped into two solid metal shackles, as were my wrists. She pulled a leather hood over my head, which was when I began to struggle.

"She doesn’t like the mask, Master," I heard her say. Her voice was muffled through the layer of leather encasing my head. I was beginning to thrash quite a bit to be freed of the hood.

An extreme line of pain lashed across my left thigh and I screamed out.

"Now that I have your attention girl," I heard His voice tell me, "You will stop struggling over such a silly thing as the hood. You’ll have plenty to struggle over in a while, and there’s no point in wasting your strength now.

"I can’t I can’t I can’t," I whimpered through the zippered-shut mouth of the hood. One of the two of them unzippered the mouthpiece.

"What IS your problem, girl?" He asked, almost testily. Dear God, the last thing I wanted to do was make Him angry with me.

"I’m claustrophobic!" I cried out.

I could HEAR Him smiling through the tone of His voice. "Well, that’s too bad, because I have you here, and you’re under My control. You will wear the mask. But I will leave the mouth unzippered because I love to hear your fear."

The hood was almost immediately forgotten as I heard the clack-clack-clack of Him tightening down the rack, stretching me out, my hands over my head, my legs spread in a wide, inverted V beneath me.

"Beautiful," He breathed, wetting one of my nipples, then the other, with His tongue. He blew cold air across them, making them ache from the stiffness.

A slow ache was beginning to build in my legs and arms from the tension on them. I could feel the feather-soft dusting of a light flogger being dragged over my skin.

"We’ll warm up with this," He whispered right against the leather of the hood, so that I could feel His voice vibrate against my cheek.

He lightly flogged my thighs and belly, and stroked the leather fall of the flogger over my stiff nipples. He then started to flog my breasts, lightly, then harder, until the thud of the flogger was pressing me against the lightly-padded base of the rack. I was grunting with every blow, as it wasn’t quite pain, and a bit more than pleasure. Back and forth He flogged my breasts, until I was sure they were a bright, even red, from the attention He gave them. He then worked the insides of my thighs, which caused me to scream with each blow to the sensitive area. I could tell that He liked my screaming, because it made Him strike harder each time. The worst part was the embarrassment of knowing the flogging was making my pussy run juices right down the insides of those very same thighs. The flogging of the wet, sensitive skin was even more intense.

His hand clapped down hard over the mound of my pussy, and His long fingers found my clit, which was swollen with excitement.

"Yes," I hissed through the mask, as His fingers circled that sensitive little nub of flesh. That wasn’t to last long though. His hand came away from my body, which I tried to arch out towards Him, but I was too securely bound to move even the slightest.

The whole rack suddenly tipped back at that point, which caused me to scream in fear. I settled out, lying on my back now.

"Darling," I heard Him say to His personal slave, "Would you be so good as to fuck her hungry pussy with your hand?"

I could feel her standing beside me, even before her hand touched my pussy. Her long fingernails scratched down my pubic mound and made me shiver. I could feel her slide two, then three fingers inside my wet cunt. Slowly, she slid four fingers in. My vaginal muscles spasmed around her fingers. I was so excited; I thought that I could die. I was grunting with every thrust of her hand.

"She’s very tight Master," the slave said. "I’ll stretch her out for You." I could feel her force her entire hand into my aching pussy, and then let her fingers relax into a fist. I hadn’t felt this stretched, ever. She fucked me slowly and steadily with her fist.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp, hard, thud against my aching breasts, as he brought a heavy wooden paddle down on them. I screamed, and the slave pushed her fist deeper into me. With perfect timing, the paddle would fall, and she would shove her hand deep and hard into me. The heel of her other hand was pressing down on my pubic mound, grinding against my clit. As He paddled my breasts harder and faster, she matched His pace with her hands.

I began to cum, until I was screaming and grunting with every slap and every thrust. They didn’t let up their actions until I had covered her arm with my pussy juices and had cum another three times.

"I think she’s ready for the pole," I heard Him say through my orgasmic delirium.

The table tilted again, and I was unbound. Both of the helped me walk a few paces forward on my watery knees, while they massaged my arms and shoulders to bring full circulation back to them. They led me, blind, and I stepped up onto another platform. He told me to kneel, and I did.

He pulled my knees wide apart and bound them into place, then bound my ankles together. He pulled my arms behind my back and bound my wrists tightly together.

I could hear a click-click sound as some machinery started working, then I felt a very large, blunt object forcing itself between my swollen pussy lips. The platform I was on had some sort of mechanism inside it, which was forcing a huge, thick, blunt pole up inside my pussy. I only had a few seconds to thank God the slave had stretched me first until I was completely immobilized by the pole.

"There’s only one real pleasure I get out of this, slut, besides listening to you scream. I enjoy making you feel used." His words sounded cruel, mocking. I could feel the slave-girl’s long nails scratch down my back.

"My girl is wearing a nice, fat strap on dildo, and she’s going to fuck you up the ass with it. When my girl is ready to cum, I’m going to piss all over you. That’s how I get my most intense pleasure."

I shook my head, no. This was too much! Nobody did this to me! I heard Him laugh.

"After everything we’ve done to you, THIS is what you object to? What if I told you that I have EVERY single thing we’ve done to you on videotape? What if I said that if you deny Me this, I’ll send this videotape to your husband?"

"No!" I cried out.

"Then you’ll do exactly as I say, slut, and since you argued with Me, you’ll also drink some of it."

That is when the slave-girl shoved her well-lubricated dildo up my tight asshole and started to fuck me, hard and fast. I was screaming with each thrust, from pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell. I was crying inside the mask, and the leather stuck to my face. His leather shoe pressed against my clit, and I rocked against Him as she fucked my ass. I could hear her breathing hard, getting ready to cum. He pushed back on my forehead, forcing my head back and my mouth open. A patter of liquid hit the bridge of my nose, then I felt His hot urine splash into my mouth, down my neck, over my straining tits and belly. I came again, wildly, screaming as loudly as I could. When every drop of His piss had washed over my body, I heard him grunt as He started to stroke His hardening cock. The slave girl pulled the dildo out of my asshole with a pop, and pulled the urine-soaked hood from my head. She told me to watch as He came, and to make sure to open my mouth wide for Him. Broken, defeated, I did as she said. His semen hit my face in large, thick strands, in my hair, on my cheeks, in my mouth. He wiped His cock in my hair and turned and walked away.

"Clean her up and send her home," He said over His shoulder to His slave.

I received the best care money could buy. I was bathed, perfumed; my hair was washed and styled for me. I didn’t even notice. Beautiful new clothes were put on me, just my size. I didn’t even question where they came from, or how He knew my sizes. I just floated on the soft, sad feeling of "thingness" and submission. The chauffer took me home. I had some trouble walking, so the chauffer took me to the door and rang the bell. My wonderful husband opened it, looked at the chauffer, and helped me inside.

"You look beautiful," he said to me, helping me to sit on the sofa. "How was your day?"

I just shook my head, not knowing whether to tell him anything, not even knowing where to start.

He just smiled at me and said, "I got you a present. I hope you’ll like it." He handed me a box wrapped in red paper.

"Thank you," I whispered, unwrapping the box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a leather hood, exactly like the stranger had put me into earlier.

"Put it on girl, I know you’ll like it," my Husband said to me, smiling, as He held up an unmarked videotape.