The Contract She Accepted to Be His Slave

They had met at university, a decade earlier. Mariela was an ordinary girl, the kind people tended to overlook, though she had a body that did draw attention, and she knew it. Esteban was just as unassuming: neither handsome nor ugly, neither brilliant nor dull, one more among hundreds. When they finished their degrees, they lost touch. She went off to a bank branch in Melbourne; he stayed in Valencia, working for a clean energy company.

They ran into each other again ten years later, purely by chance, in a café in the city center. Things were going badly for her: the bank had gone under, she had spent eight months unable to find work, and her savings had vanished. He, on the other hand, headed an entire department, wore a suit that cost more than Mariela’s rent, and carried the one scar left by his success: a recent, ugly divorce.

The conversation dragged on for an hour. For Mariela, it was a comfort; for Esteban, an opportunity. While she talked about résumés and closed doors, he looked at her over the rim of his cup and thought about something else. Back in their university days, he had never dared. Now the balance was different.

—Sorry, I have a meeting in five minutes —he said, checking his watch—. But if you want, let’s have dinner at my place tonight. I think I can help you get out of this hole. At eight.

Mariela accepted. She had nothing to lose and a lot to gain: if she was lucky, Esteban would recommend her for some opening.

Punctual, as she had always been, she showed up at the apartment wearing one of her best dresses, black and low-cut, which set off her dark blond hair. Dinner was cordial, almost nostalgic, until they reached dessert. Then he set down his glass, looked at her directly, and changed tone.

—I’m not going to beat around the bush. My divorce changed my life. Since then I’ve practiced BDSM as a dominant, and I’m only interested in women who give themselves completely. I think it’s time I had my own permanent submissive. You fit what I’m looking for. You’d need to be trained, of course, but that’s no problem. From what you’ve told me, your situation is at breaking point. With me, you’d lack for nothing. In exchange, you’d be mine twenty-four hours a day.

Mariela’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t believe it. She had always been independent, self-possessed, free even sexually. A slave? The mere word stirred something in her gut, half repulsion, half vertigo.

—Relax, don’t panic —he went on—. It’s not a bad offer. We’ll put in writing whatever limits you want. You’d live in my house, take care of it, and please me whenever I decided.

—It’s tempting —she admitted, in a lower voice than she intended—. But I don’t know if I’m cut out for something like that. I was always proud of my freedom, of never having married, of owing nothing to anyone.

—You don’t need to be ready. That’s what training is for. First, a medical exam. Then we sign a contract where you set your limits, and I respect them. After that you’d spend some time at a specialized center where they’d teach you. I don’t have time to train anyone myself, and I’d rather professionals do it. —He paused—. Go home and think about it. If you accept, call me tomorrow morning.

Mariela went out into the street with damp eyes. She didn’t understand how she had ended up at this point. But she knew one thing with cold clarity: either she accepted Esteban’s proposal, or her next job would be behind the register at a supermarket.

***

She called early. Her voice only trembled at first.

—I accept. What do you want me to do?

—Come at five in the afternoon. Only wearing a dress. No underwear.

She arrived exactly on time, dying of embarrassment, convinced that everyone she passed in the building entrance could guess her nakedness beneath the fabric.

—Come in —he said, opening the door—. I see you’ve followed instructions. From now on you address me as “sir.” Shall I show you the house? One room in particular. You should start getting an idea.

—Yes, sir.

The apartment was small but immaculate: an open kitchen and living room, a terrace with a good view because it was on the top floor. In the master bedroom there was something that caught her eye. Beside the bed, on the floor, a sort of low mattress, like the bedding for a large dog. She didn’t ask. Yet.

The other room was different. It was fitted with a spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s cross, a cage, and an entire wall of implements: riding crops, paddles, whips, ropes. And, in a corner that felt almost domestic, an armchair, a little side table, and a giant screen. Normal life and what was forbidden coexisting in the same room.

—Any questions? —he said.

—Do you have a dog? —she asked, nodding toward the bedroom.

Esteban smiled faintly.

—Not yet. But if all goes well, I’ll have one soon. That bed is for you. I like sleeping alone. Sharing mine will be a privilege you’ll have to earn.

A dog bed. On the floor. Mariela’s heart was hammering in her throat, and the most disturbing part was that she couldn’t tell whether it was from fear or something else.

—Now, to the living room —he ordered—. Take off your dress. You have an hour before the exam, and you’re going to use it to learn how to use your mouth. I’ll tell you when and how. You’ll swallow everything I give you and then thank me for it.

She knelt in front of him, as he sat on the sofa, and began stroking him with her hands.

—Not like that —he cut in—. A good submissive uses only her mouth.

At the same time as the order came the blow: a sharp lash across her left buttock. He had hidden the crop among the cushions and she hadn’t seen it. She dropped to all fours and obeyed, first with her tongue, then with her full breath, until he filled her throat.

—Faster. I want to feel your lips all the way down.

Esteban took the opportunity to look at her breasts. Despite being thirty-four, they were still firm, round, bouncing with every thrust. That confirmed his plans. He estimated a generous size and imagined them a couple of sizes larger. He wanted everything: volume, weight, and something else he still hadn’t told her.

—Hold still. Leave it at the back and don’t move. You’ve given me too much and I don’t want to finish yet.

Mariela stayed motionless, obeying, and what surprised her most was not that she could do it, but discovering that her body was responding, that something between her legs had ignited without permission.

—Now —he said a while later—. Finish and swallow.

It cost her nothing. When he was done, she cleaned him with her tongue, slowly, almost carefully.

—Thank you, sir.

Esteban could barely hide his satisfaction. She learned fast. That made him immensely happy.

—Don’t move. I’ll be right back.

He returned from the other room with a collar and leash. He put them on her and told her there was no need to dress.

—We’ll go down in the freight elevator. My parking spot is right across from it. No one will see you.

And it was true. The other neighbor on the landing hardly ever showed up, and besides, he belonged to the same circle as Esteban. The service elevator, supposedly reserved for moves, had other uses.

Still, Mariela was terrified. How humiliating it would be if someone saw her, naked and tethered by a leash like an animal. But there was no turning back now. In the garage, Esteban opened the trunk of a dark car with tinted windows and ordered her to get inside. She obeyed, curled into herself, as the engine started.

***

The drive lasted close to an hour. When the car stopped, it was already night. It was a small garage, with only a few spaces. Mariela caught sight of an older woman getting into her own car and driving away: the last patient of the day. Then Esteban opened the trunk and let her out. Like a good submissive, she let herself be led by the collar inside.

—See? No one saw you. We’re the last appointment. I’ve got everything under control. Behave yourself. Gustavo is a good friend and he’ll take care of your treatment.

Inside, the two men greeted each other with an embrace.

—Esteban, I’m glad you’ve finally decided —said Gustavo, looking her over from head to toe—. And I see you chose well.

—It looks that way. But it depends on you. She has to pass your exam.

—Then let’s begin. All right, climb onto the table and place your legs in the supports.

As soon as she settled in, a nurse appeared. She held Mariela’s legs apart, lifted her arms over her head, and secured them with handcuffs chained to the upper part of the table.

—Doctor, should I put on the abdominal strap too?

—Yes, Lucía. It’s her first time, better to have her well secured. You can go home, I’ll take care of it.

Gustavo put on his gloves. He examined her with a cold instrument, then with his hands and lubricant, checking her thoroughly, until he pulled on something with more force than necessary and she complained.

—Good eye, Esteban. She’s been used only a little and not abused at all. —He looked at her over his glasses—. Have you been penetrated from behind regularly?

—No, doctor —Mariela murmured—. I tried a couple of times, but it hurt and I didn’t want to repeat it.

The two men exchanged smiles and enjoyed her anxious face. Gustavo worked on her patiently, stretching her open, until he had placed a dilator to keep her open.

—Let’s leave her like that for a while. We’ll go have a drink.

They moved into an adjoining room. A whisky, a cigarette.

—I imagine you’ll send her to the center for a while, right? —said Gustavo.

—Yes. That way they give her back knowing how to behave. Let her get her first punishments there. When they come home, they’re much more docile. —He took a sip—. And I want you to pay special attention to her breasts. I’d like her to produce milk. Do you think you can take them up a couple of sizes? You know my taste. No silicone.

—Clinically, yes. But medication alone isn’t enough: it requires daily consistency. I’ve had clients who slacked off and lost it within weeks.

—I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Every day, daily, if that’s what it takes to get it.

They returned to the examination room. Gustavo removed the dilator and continued with the exam, this time with more ease, and he noticed that Mariela’s breathing had changed, that she was no longer complaining.

—Well now. You’ve traded your scared face for another expression. For behaving yourself, a gift. —He fitted her with a small device that made her moan—. And now the breasts, let’s see if we can make them the way your sir wants.

He positioned himself behind the table and began massaging her, checking volume and firmness, then worked her nipples with his fingers, stretching them, rolling them, until they stood hard and bristling. Mariela closed her eyes. A sound escaped her throat.

—Stop moaning. Your sir wouldn’t like you finishing in my hands.

To bring her temperature down, he gave her firm slaps on the breasts, one after another, until she was flushed and breathless.

—There. Stop sniveling, we’re done.

He freed her from the restraints and, pulling on the leash he had never once removed, led her on all fours until he had her under the desk.

—While I talk with your sir about your condition, you work. You can imagine I’m not doing this for free.

He sat down, guided her head, and held her. It was obvious the doctor was used to this kind of exam.

—Start. And breathe through your nose, you’re going to need it.

—How is she? —Esteban asked.

—First of all, let me congratulate you. I made the same decision years ago and there’s nothing better. Using the ones from the center isn’t the same. —He cleared his throat—. As for the examination: front is perfect, moderate prior dilation, you’ll be very comfortable. The back is untouched. Let the center work her into it gradually, with small pieces, and leave the first time to you.

He spoke in bursts, pausing as she obeyed below, and now and then he hurled a rough comment down toward the floor: breathe, be careful, good girl.

—The breasts can take much more, as you can see. I’m prescribing pills and hormone injections. We’ll trick the body into thinking she’s been a mother and start production. A couple of months of treatment, but from day one it needs constant stimulation. You must tell the center that as well: every four hours, without fail. I’ll come by to make sure they’re applying it properly.

—When do I bring her back?

—In two months. By then she should be starting. I’ll adjust the dose, and in another two you’ll have her at full performance and with a noticeable change in size. Once she starts producing milk, she has to be emptied every three hours, with a long break at night. I’ll explain the details when the time comes. —His voice cracked for an instant—. Come on, finish. And swallow it all.

When he was done, Gustavo collected himself and pulled his trousers back up with a smile.

—I think I’ve collected my fee for the visit.

—Looks that way —Esteban laughed. Then he looked down at her—. And you, clean the floor with your tongue. You’ve made a mess of it.

Mariela obeyed without lifting her eyes. Something inside her, a voice she could barely still recognize as her own, had stopped protesting long ago. And that was what truly frightened her.