The Contract She Accepted to Become His Slave

They had met at university, a decade earlier. Mariela was an ordinary girl, the kind who went unnoticed, although she had a body that did attract attention—and she knew it. Esteban was equally discreet: neither handsome nor ugly, neither brilliant nor clumsy, just one more among hundreds. When they finished their degrees, they lost touch. She left for a bank branch in Melbourne; he stayed in Valencia, working for a clean-energy company.

They met again ten years later, by pure chance, in a café downtown. Things were going terribly for her: the bank had gone under, she had been unable to find work for eight months, and her savings had evaporated. He, on the other hand, ran an entire department, wore a suit that cost more than Mariela’s rent, and carried the only scar of his success: a recent, ugly divorce.

The conversation lasted an hour. For Mariela it was a comfort; for Esteban, an opportunity. While she talked about résumés and closed doors, he watched 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.

—I’m sorry, I have a meeting in five minutes—he said, checking his watch—. But if you like, we can have dinner at my place tonight. I think I can help you climb out of this hole. Eight o’clock.

Mariela accepted. She had nothing to lose and much to gain: with any luck, Esteban would recommend her for some vacancy.

Punctual, as she had always been, she arrived at the apartment in one of her best dresses, black and low-cut, which enhanced her dark-blond hair. Dinner was cordial, almost nostalgic, until they reached dessert. Then he set down his glass, stared at her, and changed his 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 surrender completely. I think the time has come for me to have my own permanent submissive. You fit what I’m looking for. I’d have to train you, of course, but that isn’t a problem. From what you’ve told me, your situation is at the limit. You would want for nothing with me. In return, you would be mine twenty-four hours a day.

Mariela’s eyes opened wide. She couldn’t believe it. She had always been independent, her own woman, free even sexually. A slave? The word alone churned something in her stomach, half revulsion, half vertigo.

—Relax, don’t be frightened—he continued—. It’s not a bad offer. We’ll put whatever limits you want in writing. You would live in my house, take care of it, and please me whenever I decided. And when I say please me, I mean opening your legs or your mouth for me whenever I feel like it, in whatever position I put you in, until I come wherever I decide. No arguing.

—It’s tempting—she admitted, her voice lower than she intended—. But I don’t know if I’m made for something like that. I’ve always been proud of my freedom, of never having married, of not owing anyone anything.

—You don’t need to be ready. That’s what training is for. First, a medical examination. Then we sign a contract in which you mark your limits, and I respect them. Afterward you would spend some time at a specialized facility where they would teach you to suck cock, take it up the ass, and keep quiet when required. I don’t have time to train anyone, and I’d rather professionals did it. —He paused—. Go home and think about it. If you accept, call me tomorrow morning.

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

***

She called early. Her voice trembled only at first.

—I accept. What do you want me to do?

—Come at five this afternoon. Just a dress. No underwear. No panties and no bra. I want to smell your pussy as soon as you walk through the door.

She arrived at exactly the appointed time, mortified, convinced that every person she passed in the building could guess she was naked beneath the fabric. She felt the cotton brushing her nipples with every step, and a warm dampness between her thighs that betrayed her to herself before it betrayed her to anyone else.

—Come in—he said as he opened the door—. I see you followed instructions. From now on you will address me as “sir.” Shall I show you the house? Especially one room. 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 attention. Beside the bed, on the floor, a kind of low mat, like the bed of a large dog. She did not ask. Not yet.

The other room was different. It contained a spanking horse, a St. Andrew’s cross, a cage, and an entire wall of implements: crops, paddles, whips, ropes. And, in an almost domestic corner, a wingback chair, a small table, and a huge screen. Normality and the forbidden coexisting in the same room.

—Any questions?—he asked.

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

Esteban smiled crookedly.

—Not yet. But if everything 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 with your ass wide open and your mouth full.

A dog bed. On the floor. Mariela’s heart pounded in her throat, and the most disturbing thing was that she didn’t know whether it was from fear or something else. Between her thighs, once again, that dampness she had not asked permission for.

—Now, to the living room—he ordered—. Take off your dress. You have an hour before the examination, and you’ll spend it learning 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.

Mariela slipped the strap from her shoulder and let the dress fall to her ankles. She stood naked in the middle of the living room, her arms awkward, not knowing where to put them. Esteban made no effort to hide his appraisal: he surveyed her large, firm breasts, their nipples already hard from the cold or whatever else; moved down over her flat belly and the pubic hair she had shaved since she was young; and stopped at her thighs, where an unmistakable wet thread gleamed.

—You’re already wet, slut—he said softly, almost amused—. I haven’t even touched you. You’re going to be a better submissive than I imagined.

He sat on the sofa, slowly unbuckled his belt and trousers without taking his eyes off her, and drew out his cock with a calmness Mariela found humiliating. It was only half-hard, still soft, but long and thick, its veins standing out, its heavy balls resting against the dark fabric.

—On your knees. Here, between my legs.

She knelt before him and began by stroking him with her hands, trembling fingers wrapped around the shaft, moving awkwardly up and down.

—Not like that—he cut in—. A good submissive uses only her mouth. Put your hands behind your back.

The order came with a blow: a sharp crop strike on her left buttock. He had hidden the crop between the cushions, and she had not seen it. The sting pierced her skin and tore a short moan from her. She took her hands behind her back, crossed her wrists, and lowered her mouth onto him as best she could.

She began with her tongue, running it over the head, around the rim of the corona, tasting the first salty drop that welled from the tip. She licked the underside, the frenulum, then moved down to his balls, sucking them one by one with care, as though they were fruit. She felt his cock harden against her cheek, growing until it was rigid against her face. She went back up and took it into her mouth, first just the tip, squeezing it with her lips, then a little farther, pushing her head down until it touched the roof of her mouth.

—Faster. I want to feel your lips all the way down. To the balls, slut.

Mariela obeyed. She opened her throat as best she could, swallowed, and pushed, taking the entire cock inch by inch until her nose hit the hair at his pubis. Her eyes filled with tears, and a brief gag escaped her, but she held on. She came up for air and went down again, in a wet, noisy rhythm, her mouth full of saliva that dribbled down her chin and onto her breasts. Every time she reached the bottom, she stayed there for several seconds with his cock buried in her throat, swallowing around it, until he pulled her hair to make her rise.

Esteban took the opportunity to look at her breasts. Despite being thirty-four, they were still firm and round, swaying with every thrust, their brown nipples shining with their own saliva. That confirmed his plans. He estimated a generous size and imagined them a couple of sizes larger, full of milk, hanging heavily from her body. He wanted everything: volume, weight, and something else he had not yet told her. He lowered one hand to her left nipple and pinched it hard, twisting it between two fingers, and she moaned with his cock in her mouth, sending a vibration up his spine.

—Stay still. Leave it at the back and don’t move. You’ve made me too hard, and I don’t want to finish yet.

Mariela remained motionless, her mouth stretched as wide as possible, his cock buried to her throat, breathing through her nose against his pubis. What surprised her most was not that she could do it, but discovering that her body responded, that something between her legs had flared to life without permission. She felt a thick thread slide down the inside of her thigh, and her hips moved on their own, seeking friction against the air. Her eyes gleamed, saliva escaped from the corners of her mouth, and without realizing it she began rhythmically tightening her throat around him, sucking him without moving.

Esteban kept her that way for nearly a minute, enjoying the submissive’s breathlessness, until he placed both hands on her head and set the rhythm again, thrusting into her mouth from below. Each thrust sounded in her throat like a wet blow, and tears and drool escaped her in equal quantities. He fucked her mouth that way for quite some time, without courtesy, until his balls tightened.

—Now—he said after a while—. Finish and swallow. Not a drop outside.

He pushed her down one last time, gripped the back of her neck, and came in her throat with a long groan. Mariela felt the hot stream strike her soft palate, the first spurt, then two, three more, thick and salty, sliding directly into her stomach. She swallowed as best she could, unable to taste anything, aware only of the volume and heat. When he pulled out, a white thread hung from her lip, and she gathered it with her tongue without needing instructions and swallowed that too.

It cost her nothing. When he was finished, she cleaned him with her tongue, slowly, almost carefully. She licked his still-sensitive head, the corona, the underside, every inch of the shaft, and finished by collecting with the tip of her tongue one last drop trapped in the skin of his balls.

—Thank you, sir.

Esteban struggled to conceal his satisfaction. She learned quickly. 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 she did not need to get dressed.

—We’ll go down by the service elevator. My parking space is right opposite. No one will see you.

And it was true. The other resident on the landing hardly ever appeared, and besides, he belonged to Esteban’s circle. The service elevator, theoretically reserved for moving furniture, had other uses.

Even so, Mariela was terrified. How humiliating if someone saw her, naked and tethered like an animal, with her mouth still tasting of semen. But there was no turning back now. In the garage, Esteban opened the trunk of a dark car with tinted windows and ordered her inside. She obeyed, curling herself into a ball while the engine started.

***

The journey lasted nearly 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 allowed herself to be led by the collar inside.

—See how no one saw you? We’re the last appointment. I have 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 a hug.

—Esteban, I’m glad you finally decided—said Gustavo, looking her up and down, stopping without concealing his interest at her breasts and shaved pussy—. And I see you chose well. Good udders, a good ass, and the face of a frightened slut. Perfect.

—It seems so. But that depends on you. She has to pass your examination.

—Then let’s begin. Come on, get onto the examination table and put your legs in the supports.

As soon as she settled herself, a nurse appeared. She held Mariela’s legs, opening them completely until her pussy lay exposed, shiny and pink beneath the lamp. She raised Mariela’s arms above her head and secured them with cuffs chained to the upper part of the table.

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

—Yes, Lucía. It’s her first time, so she’d better be well secured. You can go home; I’ll take care of her.

Gustavo put on his gloves. He approached her pussy first and parted the labia with two fingers, examining them calmly, like someone appraising merchandise. He ran his thumb over her swollen clitoris and smiled when he saw her tense against the restraints.

—Well, well. Very sensitive. —He inserted a cold instrument, a speculum, and slowly opened it until her pussy was spread wide—. Good color, elastic walls, healthy cervix.

He removed the speculum and inserted two lubricated fingers, sinking them all the way in, feeling the walls, pressing upward in search of the spot that made her arch her hips against the restraints. Then he withdrew them and lowered his glistening hand toward her anus. He placed one finger against it and pressed, and she contracted all over.

—Relax. —He pushed slowly, with lubricant, sinking his finger to the knuckle. She whimpered, making a small sound—. 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 a smile and enjoyed her apprehensive expression. Gustavo added more lubricant and inserted a second finger, twisting them, patiently dilating her, while the other man followed the scene with his cock once again restless beneath his trousers. When her ass yielded, he replaced his fingers with a rubber dilator, a small one first, then a thicker one that opened her sphincter with a wet snap.

—Good eye, Esteban. She’s been little used in front and not mistreated at all from behind. Tight, virginal, incredibly clenched ass. You’re going to enjoy fucking it.

—Let’s leave her like this for a while. We’ll have something to drink.

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

—I imagine you’ll send her to the facility for a while, won’t you?—Gustavo said.

—Yes. That way they’ll send her back knowing how to behave. Let her receive her first punishments there, learn to open her ass, swallow without choking, and let several men fuck her at once without complaining. When they get 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 we can take them up a couple of sizes? You know my taste. No silicone.

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

—I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Every day, daily, if that’s what it takes. I want to suck them in the morning and milk her at night.

They returned to the examination room. Mariela was still tied down, her legs spread, the dilator inside her. A small glistening puddle had escaped beneath her ass, a mixture of lubricant and her own fluids: without permission, her pussy had been dripping the entire time. Gustavo removed the dilator with a sharp tug that drew another moan from her, then continued the examination, this time with greater ease. He inserted three fingers into her dilated ass and confirmed that they went in without resistance. He noticed that Mariela’s breathing had changed, that she was no longer complaining, that she was pushing her hips very gently against his hand.

—Well, well. You’ve traded that frightened look for something else. For behaving, a gift. —He placed a small vibrating device against her clitoris and switched it on; she let out a long moan, her spread thighs trembling—. And now the breasts, to see if we can make them what your master wants.

He positioned himself behind the table and began massaging her, taking her entire breasts in both hands, squeezing them, checking their volume and firmness. He lifted them, brought them together, weighed them. Then he worked her nipples with his fingers, stretching them upward until her breasts followed the movement, twisting them between thumb and forefinger, pinching them, until they grew hard as stones and stood erect. He sucked them one by one, tugging with his lips, biting them gently, and she closed her eyes and arched her back against the restraints. A sound escaped her throat, first a gasp, then something longer, more obscene, an “oh, sir” she could hardly believe she had said.

The vibrator remained pressed against her clitoris. Mariela began to move, pulling against the cuffs, rocking her hips against the air, her thighs trembling and her pussy openly dripping onto the table.

—Stop moaning. Your master wouldn’t like you to come in my hands.

To cool her down, he switched off the vibrator and slapped her breasts firmly, one after another, first one tit, then the other, until they were reddened and she was breathless, her nipples thicker and darker than before.

—Done. Stop whining; we’re finished.

He released her from the restraints and, pulling the leash he had never removed, led her on all fours until she was beneath the desk. He pushed her down by the nape until her mouth was at the proper height.

—While I discuss your condition with your master, you work. You can imagine I don’t do this for free.

He sat down, opened his trousers, and pulled out his cock, already half-hard from being handled. He held it in front of her face and gripped her by the nape with one hand.

—Begin. And breathe through your nose; you’ll need to.

Mariela opened her mouth and took him all the way in without hesitation this time, the lesson on the sofa still fresh. She sucked him slowly, moving up and down, squeezing him with her lips, and felt him swell inside her until he filled her entire mouth. Gustavo was thicker than Esteban, shorter but wider, and she struggled to open her jaws fully. He pushed her head down to the bottom and held her there without giving her a break.

—What do you think?—Esteban asked.

—First of all, congratulations—Gustavo replied, his voice tense from the way she was working him below—. I made the same decision years ago, and there’s nothing better. Using the ones at the facility isn’t the same. —He cleared his throat, because she had just swallowed him deeply and tightened her throat around the head—. As for the examination: perfect in front, moderately used, you’ll be very comfortable. In back, untouched. Tell the facility to accustom her gradually, with small pieces, and let you be the one to break her in. You’ve earned it.

He spoke in bursts, interrupting himself because she obeyed below, sucking steadily, her tongue circling the head, saliva overflowing down her chin and dripping onto the floor. From time to time he directed a rough comment toward the floor: breathe, watch your teeth, you’re doing fine, take the balls too.

Mariela released his cock for a second and lowered herself to suck his balls. She took them into her mouth, one first, then the other, savoring them with her tongue while her hand was not allowed to help. She went back up the shaft, licking it all over, and swallowed him again to the bottom. His cock struck her throat with a wet, regular sound, and Gustavo began moving his hips against her mouth, fucking her while seated.

—The breasts can easily handle it, as you’ve seen. I’ll prescribe pills and hormone injections. We’ll fool the body into thinking she’s been a mother so it begins producing. A couple of months of treatment, but from the first day she’ll need constant stimulation. You must tell the facility that too: every four hours, without fail, they’re to suck them, milk them, and massage them. I’ll stop by to make sure they’re doing it properly.

—When can I bring her to you?

—In two months. By then she should be starting. I’ll adjust the dosage and, two months after that, you’ll have her working at full capacity and with a noticeable change in size. Once she begins producing milk, they’ll have to empty her every three hours, with one long break at night. I’ll explain the details when the time comes. —His voice broke for an instant, because she had just tightened her throat around him and he could not hold out any longer—. Come on, finish. And swallow it all. Just as your master taught you.

He gripped her head with both hands, drove her down, and released inside her throat with a short grunt. Mariela felt thick semen filling her mouth from below, the second jet striking the back, the third overflowing from the corners because there was no time to swallow it all. She held on as best she could, her nose pressed against the doctor’s belly, until he released her. When she came up, she swallowed twice in succession, her mouth still full, and felt it run hot down her esophagus. A white thread ran down her chin and fell onto her chest.

When he was finished, Gustavo composed himself and pulled up his trousers with a smile.

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

—It seems so—Esteban laughed. Then he lowered his gaze toward her, toward the drops of semen on the floor and the thick thread hanging between her breasts—. And you, clean the floor with your tongue. You’ve made a mess. And while you’re at it, suck up whatever fell on you. Not a drop.

Mariela obeyed without raising her eyes. She crouched on all fours and ran her tongue over the floor, gathering every thick drop and swallowing without a flicker. Then she ran her fingers over her chest, gathered what hung from her nipples, and sucked those too. Something inside her, a voice she barely recognized as her own, had stopped protesting a long time ago. And that was what truly frightened her: between her legs, with no one watching anymore, her pussy was still openly dripping, begging for more.