He had agreed to her terms about four hours into their first date.

She would make all decisions regarding their sexual relationship and he would cooperate completely, no compromise.

Since then he had step-by-step become more and more the plaything she wanted him to be, beginning a monumental workout schedlue, eating only what she gave him and completing any task she desired.

He stayed at her house and did any and all work required there - including cleaning, maintenance, and yard work. She had taken him to a clinical piercing facility several weeks into the agreement and had a thick metal ring installed up through the underside of his circumcised penis head, practically filling his urethra and remaining as a tangible weight from that day forward.

He soon found out the large ring contained electronics that allowed her to remotely shock or otherwise stimulate him, whether she was in the same area code or not. The diameter of its width varied and she would turn it within him to either decrease or increase its pressure against his skin. The severity of the shocks the ring could produce had convinced him of the degree of cooperation he would now have to maintain and he submitted to that, knowing there would be no discussion. The ring could also warm or cool and seemd to pulse against him if he became erect, sometimes even oscillating with surging vibrations that held his attention quite directly.

She ensured he was almost completlely shaven - aside from the hair on his head, she left a little on his chest and a thin stripe leading from his bellybutton down to his ring-bearing package. She scheduled him nude outdoor tanning when the weather allowed, either during yardwork or other excersize such as weight training and many lengths of her swimming pool. Her yard was surrounded by high, solid fencing so passing aircraft were his only concern as far as being seen.

She decided his clothing as well and often gave him little more than a shiny pair of very short, very tight lycra shorts to wear. With these properly adjusted and his skin lightly oiled, he would greet her daily as she returned from work - offering her a beverage followed by soft kisses on whatever body part she commanded. She would then change and shower while he finished whatever dinner she had requested he prepare that night. He ate with her, usually wearing a shirt and sitting at the table but sometimes she wanted him kneeling beside her and fed him by hand, teasing him before holding the food to his mouth.

She cycled through many names for him, usually calling him 'hot-stuff' but sometimes 'legs' or even 'boot-boy'.

There was no doubt in his mind her was her boot boy. She wore boots often and seeing her had a powerful effect on him, he all but forgot the precariousness of his position as her property. She had many different pairs and he had kissed or licked every millimeter of all of them - gladly. She was stunningly beautiful, and quite tall - with her long curling hair and fit posture, to see her long, muscular legs in any pair of her usually almost knee-height and high-heeled collection could literally bring him to his knees.

To keep him shaven, she had him install a special restaint above the glass-walled shower. This allowed her to stretch his arms tighly above his head, immobilising him and ensuring she had clear access to any skin that needed attention. She seemed to love tending to him with the razor, carefully finding every last spot to shave and wash and them rub oil into, soothing him completely every time she did it.

She liked to dress him up as well, sometimes with a bowtie fastened tightly around his bare neck or even in a tight latex skirt and a pair of high heels of his own for cleaing duties. His outfit for excercize was almost always a clinging thong-back bodysuit and when she wasn't right there coaching him, she made sure he could see her watching him as he moved though the two-or-so hours of the day's assigned routine. She researched and assigned new movements regularly, always demanding he do a little more than he thought he could accomplish - and controlling his diet to the point his physique had gone beyond 'chiseled' and was into the 'erotically sculpted' sort of category.

She often took pictures of him, commanding a variety of compromising poses and never hinted at what she did with them.

When it was time for love-making, she controlled everything they did, teasing him with the remote control for his penis ring and telling him in soft, hot voice to do what he was told. When she had him restrained, she had a pattern of asking him if he would like her to do what she was about to do to him, after telling him the only word he was allowed was 'yes'. She pushed him into emotional and physical places he had never imagined, often making him wait hours for any sort of release while stimulating him mercilessly into arousal after arousal. She trained him endlessly at pleasing her in new and more complete ways.

His cooperation with all of this was total and still in his mind, consensual. He had attempted to resist her once and wanted to avoid forever the threat of being put back 'on rotation' as she called it.

She told him that his agreement, and then resistance to performing her demands was very disappointing to her. She said the agreement between them wouldn't be ended because the two of them couldn't be separated, due to the terms as she understood them. She then said that although she couldn't part from him entirely, she could temporarily lend him out . . .

This led to him being passed from owner to owner for what seemed like weeks, all at the supervision of his original mistress and her remote control of his body.

There was the non-speaking dominatrix, who kept him blindfolded and mute with a serious-feeling head harness for what seemed like days - every so often opening the closure on the large, tubular mouth gag to feed him and let him suck water from a massive silicone dildo. His hands were bound in soft spherical mits that never allowed him to touch anything. She was gentle and seductive, and very appreciative of his body. He was restrained the entrie time and never saw or really even heard her, aside from soft encouraging or discouraging sounds she would make while either training or screwing him.

Next came the shorter but seemingly more viscious domniatrix. Her hair was dark and smoothly combed into a familliar dominatrix style - a shortish, inviting mop ending with a curve in toward her defiant jawline, with bangs cut straight across just above her brow. She regarded him studiously with her large dark eyes and a wide, somewhat evil-looking smile - most of the time. She wore a vareity of tight little black dresses during his stay, made of different fabrics but of the same short, tight design. They all held tight around her buns and opened up the back, fastening with corset-like bindings. One had a small round cut-out in front that amazingly framed the cleavage of her pert, round round breasts. When she caught him looking she lost the smile, going at him with her short crop-whip for a good while.

She owned quite a few purpose-built restraint devices and used her crop to spur his body into the exact positions she wanted before tightening down their components. Usually outfitted with an automatic and extemely large-feeling dildo, she left him in their bonds for what felt like hours. Her couldn't believe the tension he was under, feeling stretched completely or even wrapped around the variety of surging phallic members as their firm girth rubbed coercing patterns into his swollen prostate. The unstopppable sensation of near-orgasmic tension seemed to spread over his entire body as fluid leaked steadily from the exposed end of his penis. When she would release him he collapsed on the floor, sweating profusely and breathing quite heavily. She gave him water and let him rest a while before attaching the leash back to the steel collar she had locked onto his neck, guiding him to the next machine.

He even sleept on (or was it in?) a full-body tray-type assembly that held him at several points and had some sort of program to train him at fellatio, or so it seemed. A large silicone dildo would move into his mouth shortly after the lights went out each night. From that point a steady but soft stream of air would begin flowing through a hole down its length. He eventually got the idea he needed to carefully manage the airflow by blowing into it. As he kept this up - and there was little option - another large silicone dildo could be felt making its way up between his ass cheeks. At times the airflow would reverse and he learned to change his mouth position, sucking the thing to pull air from it. There seemed to be a co-relation between the way he tended the upper dildo that either aggravated or appeased the lower one, changing it from a hard pounding pattern to a gentle rub within him. He suspected some sort of basic computer programming in the patterns but it took him several nights to figure out, somewhat humilliatingly, how to keep from being sore the next day due to the reaming the machine was capable of. The domnatrix never mentioned this specific training, which added to his confusion as to its nature.

Next was the super-tall fashionista friend of his sorely-missed mistress. Her long blond hair traced all the way down to her phenomal buttocks, which massed tightly at the top of the longest legs he had ever seen. She wore squeaking-tight latex bodysuits with a varying degree of plunging neckline, one all the way down to her waist. Her frame was slender but her breasts hung high and quite full above her sloping ribcage, looking like voluptuous hand-holds on some sort of ultra-erotic climbing apparatus. Watching her body flex within the shining, shellac-like coating of those suits as she strode before him was about the only thing he enjoyed about his time with her. She was so beautiful he considered the possibility of staying with her long term but he soon discovered she had no interest in a personal relationship with him.

She was young and full of energy, regarding him with excitement but somehow emptily, as if she had no concern for his personality and was focussed only on business. She owned a bondage clothing company and would zip or buckle him into all manner of super-tight, restrictive and revealing outfits, making him model for her fashion shows and taking him along to parties, regularly on a leash. He was expected to be a silent conversation piece for complete strangers as they checked out the product, all the while on display as a gender-blending sex object. She was also a little serious with the paddle, smacking his latex-bound ass with abondon if he showed any resistance to her wishes. These included long photo shoots for her bondage design website and caged dancing early into the morning for the customers at her friend's nightclub. He was thankful for all the physical conditioning his original mistress had put him through by the end of every long day with this demanding new domina.

Lastly came the playful but unforgiving lady who kept him completely restrained the whole time - usually tied into her bed. She was a curvy and strong redheaded woman who remained naked the entire time aside from a pair of latex gloves covered in rubberized lace. She locked thick wrist cuffs onto his arms and attached them to posts at the head of her bed. His feet were strapped into a tight curve, with the toes bending back toward the instep of the soles, held solidly by cuffs around his ankles. This assembly was tied to either side at the end of her bed and would tightly stretch the length of each leg, squeezing his feet relentlessly if he tensed at all. She added a pair of strange nipple-sucking devices that seemed to tighten and subside in a random pattern, pushing and then pulling strong feelings of strained arousal from his chest. She also subjected his behind to silicone stimulation, however this new object didn't cycle in and out of him on a machine, it stayed exactly where she put it the whole time.

The bulbous, spade shaped buttplug seemed to be constantly stretching his insides - no matter how he tired to adjust, the tender skin within him seemed to be screaming at the pressure. His prostate kept trying to relax and surrender but the plug would not relent, squeezing more and more pained pleasure from the centre of his pelvis. The shape of it within him meant he was basically attached by his own tension, riding the thing no matter how hard he tried to get off. She would tirelessly tease and tickle his bound feet, abdomen and exposed genitalia with various soft fabrics and her gloved hands, stopping abruptly to smack him good and solid with a light-looking but suprisingly firm wooden switch when she thought he was about to boil over. This cycle was repeated until he came even while she was reprimanding him, after which he was a little frightened to discover she had collected his orgasmic fluid with her gloved fingers and was pressing them into his open-gagged mouth. Then, not suprisingly, the cycle started again. He was sure he had never come so much in such a short time, despite trying so desperately not to.

When he was returned to his original mistress, she left him as he had arrived for most of the day. He was upright in her foyer, bound to a heavy post which was itself attached to a large sort of fridge moving cart. He was in complete restraint, wearing a thick isolation hood that had only nose holes and held a large silicone bulb-gag tightly into his mouth. His arms were tight behind him, attached to the post. The thick bodysuit that began at his feet, binding his legs and then his arms into one single sleeve, allowed him basically no movement of any part of his body.

Eventually she walked up to him and after lightly rubbing her fingers over his nipples for a while, said, 'your ass still looks amazing - even in that thing', cupping both his ass cheeks firmly and then giving him a good hard whack with her open palm. A lot of longingly intense rubbing followed as she walked around him, seemingly exploring his body for changes. Eventually she had removed the coverings from from his head and most of his body but still left him attached to the cart. He was happier and more anxious than ever to see her in front of him, wearing his secretly-favorite pair of soft, satin-stitched boots - almost white, with massively-high heels and black satin ribbon that laced from just above her heel all the way up the back of each leg - crisscrossing along her amazing curves to be tied at the top with large looping bows.

Her heels clicked sharply as she strode around behind him to whisper, her lips just behind his ear, 'So - do you want to come back home now, lover?'