Clara's Story - Part 2

[Blue]

Clara’s eyes fluttered open and she pulled the covers up more tightly over her form to protect against the cold. Her backside hurt and she needed to use the restroom, but in her sleep-addled state, she was more concerned with the cold that was making her shiver. My bed is more comfortable than usual, she thought as she rolled over contentedly. She reached for her phone to check the time, but she didn’t feel it beside her in bed. She smoothed her hand over the blanket and that was when she realized that the texture of the blanket wasn’t right. The pillow wasn’t right. The bed wasn’t right! She sat up and the lights illuminated softly. She blinked her eyes rapidly as she took in her surroundings. She was in a cage! She was in a literal cage about the size of a secondary bedroom in a modern home. She looked beyond the cage bars and assessed her situation. She was in a cage in a cave, she further realized. Stalactites extended downward from the ceiling of what could better be described as a cavern, and as Clara searched the floor, she found clusters of stalagmites near the walls of the cavern, shooting upward. I’m in a fucking cage in mother fucking Lost River Caverns… or Merrimack Caverns, or wherever, and I can swear something is up my ass! Clara pulled herself from the bed and hoisted a foot on the mattress so her fingers could explore her backside. Sure enough, there was now a bar of some sort going from the bottom of her chastity cup just an inch or two above the cleft of her ass cheeks where it ended with a flat plate that adhered to her skin much as the cup itself did. It wasn’t going to budge; she knew that much.

She looked around the cavern for something that might assist her in alerting someone for help. The cavern chamber was huge, and while she couldn’t estimate the size of it, the cage she was held in was situated between two clearly defined sides of the cavern chamber. It favored one of the walls of the hollow so it wasn’t too obtrusive in the otherwise open space. On one side was a small living area complete with kitchenette, dining space, and a living room with a sofa, and television. The décor was ultra-modern and technology looked sleek and advanced. It almost looked like a movie set to her, with the finishings of the living space extending upward 9 or 10 feet, leaving dozens of feet of exposed rock above it. A rather large flatscreen TV was mounted on the rock wall and a camel colored, leather sofa with a simple coffee table wrapped around the viewing area of the TV. The kitchenette had a black refrigerator and what looked like a glass-top stove. Some appliances she couldn’t identify were included, but they all appeared to be of a smaller scale. On the opposite side of the cage, there was some kind of laboratory. Not a chemistry lab like the one at school; more like an engineering laboratory. It contained numerous worktables, equipment, computers situated on raised and sunken platforms where different types of work might be completed in semi-separated spaces. Two steps up on a round platform was a work space with a table and a pair of robotic arms. Two steps down there was another work table covered with small tools and unfinished projects that Clara could not identify. It wasn’t a one-person show here. There was enough space to comfortably fit a dozen or so laboratory workers. She imagined them meeting with one another in one sunken area that had a circular shaped conference table with chairs around it. The floors were smooth and level everywhere she looked, which she assumed took some engineering to even out the ground of a naturally formed cavern. Her gaze settled on what appeared to be a camera peering at her and she waved both arms at it wildly to hopefully attract the attention of a security guard. I don’t remember coming here she thought to herself. Clara got up from the bed and tried the door to the cage. It was locked, of course. It was a cage after all.

Looking more carefully at the space in which she was being kept, Clara found a toilet and sink combination like those units found in prisons in what could best be described as a bared-in water closet accessible to the cage through a opening. It was external to the main part of the cage, closest to the walls of the cavern, which afforded the occupant some modesty. The space she was held in contained a small but comfortable bed, plush carpeting, a night-stand next to the bed, a table and chairs, and a soft-looking leather recliner. Just outside of the cage walls a space heater turned quietly blowing warm air into her living space. She needed about four more of those, she thought. Just outside of arm’s reach, there was also a full-length mirror, dresser, and desk with office chair. She could view the mirror but not touch it. She pulled the satin nighty she wore up and tried looking at her backside in the mirror, and what she could see confirmed what she felt with her fingers. A little gold plate was stuck to her lower back and a solid bar plunged into the crack of her ass, disappearing from view unless she held her cheeks open. She couldn’t turn her head that well to see it, so she didn’t bother.

“Your Master is coming down to greet you. Kneel for him.”

Clara turned her head sharply to find the source of the robotic voice that spoke and she found the camara she spotted a moment ago was actually much larger than she initially estimated. It had a head and small body, and when it had finished climbing down from its perch high above where it had been filming her, she could see that it had a bipedal design and stood about two or two-and-a-half-feet tall. Her eyes widened with fear as the little white robot began to approach her with a surprisingly realistic gait. She crossed to the opposite end of the cage to avoid it until she further assessed its threat level.

“Your Master will be displeased if you are not kneeling for him,” it reiterated in a tinny voice when she had not moved to its recommended position.

“Kneeling for who? I don’t have a Master.”

The little robot tilted its head but remained quiet.

“He’s right,” Ian Kline said, descending a wraparound staircase from an overhead landing. He was wearing house shoes and a warm robe and his hair looked a bit tousled. “It’s customary for people in your position to kneel for their Masters and hold that position until they are told they may break the pose.”

“Professor Kline! -I mean Ian, oh thank goodness! Where the fuck are we? The door is over here. Can you find a key?” She was pointing frantically to the cage door on the opposite side of the cage. It was as if she didn’t hear his greeting at all.

Oh that’s adorable. She thinks I’m here to rescue her. “I agree that last names are inappropriate given the intimacy that we’ve shared and will continue to share, but WERT over here has it right.” Clara’s gaze followed Ian’s and landed on the little robot who appeared confused with its head tilted. “We will need to work on the formalities that will be expected of you. For now, I’d like you to grab the cushion that’s by the door.” She glared at him, piecing together that Ian was the “Master” the robot was referring to.

“Is this your doing?” she asked, gesturing to the cavern at large. She didn’t notice Ian jumping to hunt for the key to the door, so the answer seemed obvious to her.

“You’re here at my insistence, yes.” Ian turned to address the robot next. “WERT, this is my new pet, Clara Newman.” WERT nodded. “She is not here voluntarily, but she is mine. Your new assignment is to assist my pet in addressing her needs. I have uploaded her contract and rules for you to keep track of. If she needs anything that is in concert with the contract and rules, you may provide it. Anything that seems questionable, run past me first. If I’m not around, you can ask one of the staff members upstairs. Clara is not to leave the laboratory floor without an approved escort. Currently, I am the only approved escort. I’d like you to power down now. I need to have a private conversation with my pet.”

“Yes, sir,” WERT said, chiming in confirmation of the new commands. Its red recording light dimmed and turned off as did the other ambient lighting on its body.

“What the fuck?” Clara said, confused with what she just observed. “You can just talk to it like you talk to a person?”

Ian turned his attention back to her, ignoring her question. “I told you to get the cushion,” he reminded her.

“No,” Clara said defiantly. “I want answers! Why I am I here? Where are we?”

He pointed to the cushion at the door of the cage.

She’d had enough of the confusion and blew her fuse right then and there. “Ian, what the fuck is going on? WHY AM I IN A CAGE?” she shrieked at him and took a step toward the bars, closer to him. Eyeing him carefully, she asked in a much calmer, quieter voice containing a note of suppressed rage, “Ian, why is there something in my ass?”

“Cushion,” was his only reply. Her mons was zapped when she did not comply, it was zapped again, and again until she couldn’t take the pain anymore. Profanities tore past her lips as the golden chastity cup affixed to her body shocked her. She knew from experience the shocks would not stop until she fell into alignment with the expectations. Slender but shapely legs scurried across the cell to retrieve the cushion near the door.

“Good,” Ian said approvingly. “Take the cushion and set it on the floor in front of the recliner. She shot him a dirty look and placed the non-slip side down against the soft carpeting before the brown leather recliner. “One of these cushions will be in every room you enter. If it is absent, you will notify me and I will give you further instructions. I want you on your knees on top of the pillow.” She glared at him but dropped to her knees. “Good job, pet,” Ian said calmly. You can lower your weight onto your heels, and then spread your knees wide for me. I want to see your lovely golden cup each time you are in this position.” The memory of being spanked had been pushed out of her mind while she contended with more urgent matters, such as where she was, and why she was so cold, but it came flooding back to her when her heels dug into her backside. Ian smiled at her pained expression. “Oh good,” he said. “I’ve made the right impression on you.” He gestured to her knees and spread two fingers to remind her what to do. She scowled at him and the skimpy nighty she wore rode up her thighs, providing Ian with a view of her gold-clad pussy. “Your hands go behind your back and I want you to grip as far up the opposite arm toward the elbows as you can. If you can hold onto the elbow, that is preferred.” He demonstrated to her what her arms should look like and she hesitantly moved them behind her back and held the opposite elbow in each hand. “Tip your head up and straighten your back.” Satisfied, he concluded, “This is your high protocol kneeling position. You will assume this each time you are seeing me after any extended absence or in the presence of others. You will hold this position until I tell you that you may relax.” Clara continued glaring at him. “I’m stepping into your room now. Do not move until I give you permission to do so.”

“My room? This is my room?” Her tone was agitated. He would have to manage her carefully.

Okay, okay, it’s your cage. It’s fucking hot having a slave in a cage, okay? You’ll get used to it. Ian smiled at the thought as he stepped in and sat across from her in the recliner after resecuring the door. He was getting aroused just watching her struggle to comply.

“Sit still,” he told her as she squirmed in place. Her body language made her look like a rubber band pulled taut, waiting to snap. “You are every bit the firebrand I hoped you’d be, pet.”

“Why is my ‘room’ a cage?” she inquired, ignoring the comment about her being a firebrand. Her tone expressed her level of diminished patience.

Deciding to favor honesty, Ian said plainly, “I like the aesthetics of a cage, I like the control it gives me over you, and you need to be confined as you adjust to your new surroundings. You’re in a foreign world, pet, and the social rules and norms are different here. You could get yourself into trouble without proper guidance. I have an obligation and a personal desire to keep you safe.”

Clara remained where she was, holding her position, though Ian could feel the electricity in the air and he imagined her leaping from her spot and attempting to throttle him at any moment. His muscles remained tight and ready to spring should she break her stance. “Are you planning on hurting me?”

“Absolutely not,” Ian said, but then quickly amended, “I’m not planning on hurting you seriously. I reserve the right to punish you as I see fit, and those punishments may hurt. But nothing I do will leave any permanent marks or changes to your body.”

“Where are we?”

She was calm for the moment and he would reward the restraint she was showing with continued information to quell her fears and curiosity. “You’re in my home. -Actually, you’re in the laboratory beneath my home. My house is situated above a large cavern and I use the cavern system to house my laboratory and mining business. It’s ideal down here because the equipment stays nice and cool. A lot of shipping comes in and out, and the mouth of the cavern is an efficient way to store and move goods.”

As far as Clara was concerned, Ian’s house was on Elm Street in a quaint suburb near to the university and that his explanation that he’s the owner of a naturally occurring cavern is nothing but nonsense. “Why did you bring me here?” She prepared herself for some outlandish explanation about how he is an unassuming college professor by day, and a human trafficking kingpin by night, or that she is about to become his lab-rat for some super-secret anti-gravity footwear that he’s designing in his high-tech laboratory, or that comets will smash into the earth’s surface in 15 days, but he rescued her to his cavern retreat so they could repopulate the world after the dust settles. She’s in a cage to prevent her from announcing the impending comet and cause world-wide chaos.

“Pet, you’re in an alternate universe. You’re in my world now. I wanted you. I think you’re special and that you and I are going to be an excellent fit. I brought you here, and I have no intention of releasing you. You are mine now.”

Or that, Clara thought. She blinked her eyes. That was certainly blunt. “So, this is kidnapping? It’s just a straight-forward case of kidnapping? And your story about an alternate universe is to discourage me from what? From trying to escape? From seeking justice? Like I’m going to voluntarily stay down here to enjoy your “protection” from the man-eating dinosaurs that roam this version of earth?”

Here it comes… “Pet,” he said in a calm voice bracing for the tantrum he was sure was bubbling to the surface.

Her eyes flashed fury. “Quit fucking calling me pet!” Her outburst earned her a correction directly to her clit. She screamed and cupped her sex as she doubled over in pain, but she was unable to rub her now stinging button thanks to the metal barrier between her fingers and her tender pussy. “To my clit this time? You can target with that thing? So, you just went straight for the jugular, eh? You fucking asshole!” she raged.

It was one thing to break position when she was in pain but it was another to swear at him. He fully understood her lack of training, but he simply could not allow that kind of disrespect to stand. Ian swiftly stood, pulled Clara up by the upper arm, and dragged her to her bed where he sat and draped her over his lap. She kicked, screamed, and flailed as he roughly threw a leg over hers and pinned her hands behind her back. “I will not tolerate the cursing any more, and you will never, ever direct your foul language at me. Remember what I said to you last night? When you’ve earned a spanking, the session begins at fifty. Clara shrieked and protested when Ian flipped the hem of her nighty up to her waist revealing her bare bottom and the spanking began. “I suggest you start counting,” he advised her when he’d delivered the fifth smack. With each smack, the plug buried in her ass lurched into her, punctuating every strike.

“Shit!” Clara said. “One, thank you, Sir!”

He held her firmly in place and though she struggled to wiggle away from him, there was nowhere for her to go. He was stronger and larger, and he had an ace up his sleeve with his capacity to shock her into submission. He’d rather earn her authentic compliance, but she was completely untrained and he hardly considered it a failing on his part as a Dominant to rely on forcing his hand when she was so ignorant of what he expected of her.

He spanked her much faster than he did the previous night and she could barely keep up with counting. If she paused to complain, she’d miss the count. She didn’t realize it, but he fanned out the strikes to spare her too much pain. She’d already had eighty-five the night before, and he conceded to himself that it was too much for a virgin ass to tolerate. He wouldn’t have given her any more spankings for a week except he simply had to respond to her defiance. He’d be prepared in the future with alternate punishments while her bruises healed. Tears were streaming down her face and she could barely utter her counts between sobs. He’d probably delivered seventy smacks before she made it to a count of fifty.

He pulled her back to her cushion and jerked her arm downward in the direction he expected her to go. “Kneel. Grab your elbows behind your back.” His voice was firm and commanding leaving no room for misinterpretation. This was not a time to challenge him. She got into position and Ian softened. He plucked a few tissues from a box he’d left her on the nightstand by her bed and gently dabbed her face dry from tears. He finger-combed her flame-colored hair and carefully pulled it back and off her shoulders, letting it cascade down her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered between sniffles as she calmed down.

“Thank you for the spanking? You’re welcome. You can rely on me to provide you firm, consistent discipline.”

Fury flashed in her eyes once again but she thought better of having another outburst. “Thank you for the tissues,” she said with a dollop of snark in her voice.

“You called me an asshole,” he pointed out. It didn’t go unnoticed by him that he did secure her into a chastity cup that she can never take off on her own, remove her pubic hair without her consent when consent was the expectation, zap her cunt numerous times to subdue her, spank her repeatedly, kidnap her to a foreign universe, force a foreign object in her ass, and ultimately lock her in a cage in his underground lair. He had been a bit of an asshole to her.

“I apologize for calling you an asshole.” she begrudgingly said.

He nodded his head in acceptance and he sat back down on the recliner to face her. “Let’s set some ground rules. You’re in my world, and here, I literally own you. I have legal documents to prove my ownership of you. As your owner, I set the rules, the tenor and tone that guides your life. Your failure to follow the rules and expectations I lay out for you will result in punishment every time.” He paused to let her process his words. “In addition to the disrespect you showed me in calling me an asshole, your swearing is indelicate and it will stop. Furthermore, if I choose to call you pet, or kitten, or if I give you a punishment name such as garbage can, or pig, you will respond as though I had said your legal name.”

Her eyes widened slightly in disbelief but when she saw the warning look on his face, she curtly responded, “Understood.”

“In this world that you now reside in, your name is Clara-Jane. From the pocket in his robe, Ian produced a national identification card and a passport which he allowed her to break pose long enough to accept from him and examine. Both items identified her as Clara-Jane Newman and listed her owner as Ian Kline. Her address was in the province of Vandalia, in the nation of North America. The imaging embossed on the passport contained what may have been the national flag with a palm tree and a maple leaf. She was not yet making judgments on the veracity of the claims Ian was making, but the identification looked official to her even if his story of an alternate universe sounded absurd. “You may explain to everyone you encounter that you prefer to go by Clara,” Ian explained, “But it’s not appropriate that others call you ‘pet’. That is my name for you. You will address me as ‘Master,’ or ‘Sir.’ They’re proper nouns, so be sure to capitalize if you have to write it out.”

She blinked her eyes. “Do I understand correctly that this is a straight up Master/slave relationship? Like a kinky sexual kind of thing?”

“This is a Master/slave dynamic,” he explained. “We can discuss the merits of a relationship at some point in the future. And yes, we will be engaging in some kinky sex. Kinky by your standards, anyway; more mainstream by mine. -And technically, you’re an indentured servant serving in the capacity of a sex slave. My people have a long-standing history with indentured servitude.” Clara understood the difference between a true slave and an indentured servant; the latter having an upfront payment or service that the recipient works off over the course of a contracted period of time. When asked to explain the difference between a dynamic and a relationship, Ian responded, “In a relationship, your wants and desires are given more weight and consideration. In a relationship, we share the decision making. But we are not in a relationship, pet. You’re my slave, and I call the shots. You do what I tell you to do, and if you don’t, you’ll pay the price.” He softened his tone. Frightening her wasn’t the goal. He wanted her to submit herself to him, and no rational person would do that if they’re in fear. “You’ll be safe in my hands, my beautiful pet. I have a legal obligation to care for you, and provide for your well-being and your comfort. I am not a cruel Master.” Well, maybe a little cruel, he amended in his mind.

He watched her sympathetically for a few seconds. She must be so lost and confused, and as much as he wanted to gather her into his arms to sooth and reassure her, he needed to be firm and establish his control and dominance over her. “You are not in Kansas anymore,” he said, borrowing the famous phrase from her world. “I am in charge here, and you will comply with my rules or suffer the consequences. And just so you know what you’re up against, every single person or AI you come into contact with will recognize my authority over you. They will take my side every time unless I am violating the law, or our contract.”

“We have a contract?”

“We do, but it’s a standard, boiler plate Master-slave agreement. You and I can amend it as we get to know one another better. You can ask WERT to print you a copy.”

“Ian, why have you done this to me?” Clara finally asked.

Ian smiled at her. “I’m sure you meant to say ‘Master, why have you done this to me?’ Pet, I’m doing this for you, not to you, though I appreciate that you may not be in a position to see that just yet.”

She nodded her head and he could tell that her mind was swimming with information overload. It felt like a good time to leave her alone to think and process before another tantrum boiled over. “I have some obligations that I must attend to. I still work at the university in your world.” he explained. “I committed myself to the university for the semester at least. I won’t leave them in a lurch. I’m going to leave you with WERT for now.”

“Wait!” she said, shifting out of position slightly. “There’s something uhm…. In my rear.” It was utterly mortifying to have to discuss objects in her ass with him, but there was simply no way around it.

Ian smiled. “Ah yes! I applied an anal plug to help open your ass up for me. If you’re worried about having to go to the bathroom while I’m away, there’s no need. I cleaned your bowels out so you won’t need to go for awhile.”

“Worried about going to the bathroom? No, I’m worried about the thing in my ass and how it got there!” A bright red blush creeped up her face as she started to understand his words. “Did you give me an enema while I was asleep?”

Ian nodded his head, looking pleased with himself. I sure did, but I didn’t damage you by forcing my cock in your untrained ass. You’re welcome, pet. “Well, you were in a twilight sleep, but you won’t remember any of it. It was better than waking you and fighting you, and you needed to be cleaned out. I plan to keep you in a state of cleanliness, so enemas will be routine.”

“When are you going to remove it? It’s bothering me!”

Ian looked at her and shook his head. “I’m planning on keeping a plug in your ass all the time. I rather like knowing my pet is stuffed with something to serve as a reminder that she’s owned and subject to my desires. While I’m teaching calculus today, I will be thinking of you pacing the cage, unable to remove it now matter how hard you try.”

He leaned down to place a kiss on her hair and he readjusted her head, tipping it upward. A gentle touch to her back straightened her spine and he tapped the inside of her knee with his shoe to remind her to nudge her knees apart a little more. “Perfect.” He exited the cage, telling her not to move a muscle until he gave her the okay. He stored her new identification in the dresser drawer, out of her reach, and tapped WERT on the head, powering the robot up. “I have a staff that works down here in the cavern. I directed them to avoid this area for a few days. On the off-chance you should see someone, try to be polite. I recommend that you do not scream for help or tell them that you’re from another universe or anything outlandish like that. You’ll end up under medical observation for a week at least. – Not to mention that I have taken that argument into consideration and am prepared to defend myself against any seemingly absurd claims you may make.”

She watched as he trotted up the flight of stairs and vanished around the bend. “You may break your pose now, pet. And you may always break your pose as soon as I leave,” he called down to her from out of view. A pulse of blue light could be seen from around the bend where Ian disappeared, and she didn’t hear him speak again.

She broke her pose and her fingers went immediately down to the cup protecting her pussy. The sting of the shock her clit took had died down and given way to arousal as Ian brazenly treated her like the submissive slave she always yearned to be; she was conflicted with an intense urge to wrestle power from him to escape and return to her apartment where she had her autonomy and things made sense and her deep desire to be controlled and subjugated at the whim of a dominant who put his own wants and needs first. Her pussy was pulsing and throbbing beneath the barrier, protected from her touch.

Why did he do this to me? She knew exactly why he did this to her. He knew damn well chastity was her kink and he exploited it to get her to trust him so he could nab her. Did he gain access to her phone on the public wifi at school? She groaned when she realized the likely source of his spying. Ian Kline insisted that all of his students download his homework submission application. He probably had a backdoor into everyone’s computer and phone. She hollered in frustration but quietly acknowledged that his efforts to take control of her also aroused her. She tried mashing the cup against her body in an attempt to get some kind of sensation to reach her pussy. The construction of the cup caused it to remain separated from her lips no matter how much she pressed inward. Her hand raked through her hair in irritation and defeat. Clara stood up and put the cushion back against the cell wall near the door. “WERT, where the fuck am I?” she asked it when the little robot appeared fully rebooted. She needed to get her mind off of her arousal and onto something more productive.

Red lights flashed on the robots casing. “Your Master defined in your rules that you are not permitted to curse,” WERT said sternly. With the correction delivered, the red lights along WERT’s body faded back to white. “You are located 18.4 kilometers south west of Trentsville, Vandalia, North America.”

“Where the fuck is that? What are the stats of Vandalia?”

Another flash of red. “WERT is reporting your disobedience to your Master as soon as he returns.” The red lights faded. “Vandalia is a North American province located between Virginia and Kentucky, south of the Ohio River. Major cities are Trentsville, Pittsburg, and Lexington. Early settlers of Vandalia are credited with thwarting a rebellion against the British Crown during the colonial period. Vandalia has a population of 10 million people, with an annual death rate of 5.4% and birth rate of 1.3%. Primary industries include mining, agriculture, high technologies, including artificial intelligence and robotics. Vandalia has major sports teams in NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, and curling. The Vandalia Vandals won the Superbowl three years in a row, and-“

“WERT, stop. I get it. I’m lost in space. How do I get out of this cage?”

“You ask your master if you may leave,” WERT replied.

She wanted to insist that Ian was not her master, but she didn’t want to waste her breath convincing a robot to adopt her way of thinking. “What if he is not available?”

“Then you do not leave the cage.”

“What if I’m having a medical emergency, and he is not available to let me out?”

“WERT will contact the MRT on your behalf.”

MRT turned out to be short for Medical Response Team, and was WERT’s way of saying he’d dial 911. WERT asked her if she was having a medical emergency.

“Can the MRT open the cage?”

“Yes,” WERT replied.

“Then I am experiencing a medical emergency. Please contact the MRT.”

A light passed over her that emanated from WERT’s casing. “WERT does not detect a medical emergency.”

Clara shrieked and she hurled herself at the door of the cage, pushing and pulling with all her might. One thing she understood was that if the magnets that held this door closed were like the magnets that kept the chastity cup against her body, she’d never get it open. She tried to push her limbs through the bars but it was evident that she would be unable to fit through the gap. If her head wasn’t the issue, her breasts still were.

“I’m cold,” she said to WERT.

“WERT can provide you with the following helpful items: An additional space heater, clothing, a blanket, and a warm beverage.”

Clara told him that she wanted all of those things, and WERT whirled into action, first pulling a blanket from her dresser and passing it through the bars. Some yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt, and fuzzy socks came next. A steamy paper cup filled with coffee was passed to her and an additional space heater was set opposite of the first one, out of her reach, but close enough to be effective. Clara was puzzled to notice that it required no electrical cord.

She laid in bed on her belly, beneath the covers while she assessed her circumstances in the cavern and absentmindedly grinded her hips against the mattress as if somehow the chastity cup would give way to her sheer sense of will. WERT remained at her side just beyond reach through the bars, watching and logging her actions while he otherwise stood stock still. I seriously think this stupid plug is making me hornier than usual. She resisted the urge to pull on the cup or the bar in the back that held the plug in place. She learned that pushing inward had no effect at all, but pulling it would not result in it’s removal and she’d get shocked as a “reminder” not to tamper with it.

“WERT, can you please print me a copy of my contract with Ian Kline?” WERT chimed in compliance and ran off to the laboratory, returning after a few minutes with a stack of papers which he shoved through the bars toward her. She flipped through the pages. Ian could have sex with her in “appropriate settings” whenever he wanted. He could punish her in any manner he saw fit provided that she experienced no permanent damage that lasted beyond the expiration date of their contract, which expired in 10 years. If Ian should become dissatisfied with her sexually, she could be put to work in other capacities but her contract would extend to 15 years to compensate him for the higher price that was paid for her. Who exactly got paid for her service? She shuddered at the thought of what other capacities he would use her in if she refused to perform sexually for him.

The contract continued to say that Ian had the right to dress her as he saw fit, display her in appropriate settings, loan her to others for sexual use -she made a mental note to discuss that one with him. She had a safe word that would stop any action immediately so they could discuss it, but the safe word did not guarantee that the action would not resume. She could take Ian to arbitration to determine if a particular action or punishment violated their contract or the scope which was considered acceptable and legal for Ian to act within. Ian had a responsibility to maintain a slave-owners license with the province, which Clara assumed was valid given that he was listed on her official identification as her owner.

“WERT, what is an appropriate setting for Ian to engage in sexual acts with me?”

“Appropriate settings are child-free, private or semi-private spaces, or public spaces where sexual acts are expected such as at an adult-only party.”

The contract annoyed her and she set it down on the night stand by her bed and asked WERT to turn the TV on for her. It seemed like a better way to pass the time until Ian returned.

=====

Clara checked the time with WERT periodically throughout the day and determined that time moved slower in the cage. She fumed and turned her attention to the cavern once again. There was a second-floor walkway that went around the rim of the cavernous chamber and she noticed that the walkway led off in multiple directions, outside of her view. She had been lying there for hours when some blue lights pulsed from behind one of the cavern bends and Ian emerged, dressed in the attire he tended to wear on campus; jeans, a button-down dress shirt, and today he had on a blazer. Fuck he looks good, she thought, and then chastised herself for finding the enemy attractive.

Ian trotted down the stairs to the laboratory. “Good evening, my beautiful pet!” Clara snarled at him and he smirked at her. Pretending to be in deep contemplation, he said, “Let’s see… Your Master has just come back from an extended period of absence. Where should his pet be?”

WERT’s lights briefly turned red when Clara muttered the word “Asshole.” Ian did not acknowledge her slip-up and she dismissed it from her mind and twisted herself out of the bed. What her technique lacked in grace, she gained in comfort because she did not let her sore backside come into contact with the mattress as she stood up. She dragged the cushion to the center of the cell and assumed his high-protocol position, wincing as her weight settled down on her heels.

“You can lean forward a little to recenter your gravity.”

She tried that, and the pained expression on her face eased.

“Your pet has used two curse words in your absence.” WERT said.

Clara glared at the little robot. “So, I said a few curse words. You weren’t here, and I didn’t think it would matter, Ian. And you do not actually own me. You can’t own another person.” Clara caught his raised eyebrow at the usage of his first name, but he did not immediately comment on it and she did not feel inclined to correct it. “And honestly, if I want to curse, I will.”

“Yes, you will curse if you want to, but if I play my hand right, in time you’ll stop cursing to please me. For now, I’ll settle for you improving your language because you want to.” He went to one of the workstations in the laboratory and retrieved a whiteboard and marker. The board was propped up on her dresser so she could see it, and there were four strikes written on it. “Not counting any bad words from before I explained the rule to you, you have three curse words, and you used my first name. Had you corrected the name usage, I’d have forgiven it this time,” Ian said.

“WERT reported 2 curse words,” Clara pointed out.

“That’s two that WERT reported, and the one you muttered under your breath. Didn’t we just have a talk about you calling me an asshole this morning? When we get to five strikes, you’ll have earned a punishment for language.”

“More spankings?” The scowl on Clara’s face was meant to pierce Ian’s soul.

“No, language comes from your mouth, so I’ll punish your mouth.” He stepped over to Clara’s dresser and took out a small paper box and passed it to Clara through the bars. She reached for it and read the packaging.

“Oh great. Punishment soap. You have a specific product for punishing people.” The image on the package featured a comic book style rendering of an adult woman with tears in her eyes and bar of soap shoved into her mouth. “Adult strength,” she said reading a banner printed across the box. “Even better.”

“A bar of soap in your mouth is mostly for aesthetics, much like the cage is. There’s a product that’s much worse that I’ll keep in my pocket just in case we’re not near the soap when you reach the infraction limit… or if I determine an immediate punishment is called for.” Ian pulled something from his pocket that looked to Clara like a pack of breath strips, but instead of seeing a familiar blue or green package, the coloring was brown and the small container was made of metal. He clicked the top open and showed her the brown strips inside. “These are flavor strips and they’re much stronger than the breath strips you’re likely familiar with. They are designed for punishment and they taste awful. One of these will stay with you for an hour or so. Two will ruin your next meal even if it’s hours away.” Clara wrinkled her nose but she nodded her head. “We give them to errant children… and naughty pets. These ones,” he said showing her the package, “are also adult strength.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I prefer soap in the mouth, but these little strips are very convincing.”

Clara glanced at the package of flavor strips. “Have you tried one?”

“Oh yes,” Ian said chuckling. “I am inclined to try out the punishments I mete out on my slaves first. A good Master needs to be certain he’s not putting his slave in danger. If I can’t handle a punishment, I don’t expect you to be able to handle it.” He accepted the punishment soap back and put it in her drawer. “Did WERT feed you?”

“Your pet failed to ask for food,” WERT said defensively, coming to life when he heard his name.

“I’m not hungry,” Clara stated.

“Well, I require you to eat several times a day and I happen to be hungry now. Because it pleases me, you’re going to eat with your Master.” He rummaged through the kitchenette preparing something and had WERT bring her a lap tray like one that might be used for breakfast in bed. “I got us some local favorites that I thought you could appreciate. Lemon trout, a salad, some green beans, and a really delicious cheese roll…. And yes, you will eat.” He ordered her to move her cushion near to the table and chairs in the corner of her cage and she was told to kneel next to the table with her tray.

“It’s a TV dinner?” she asked, confused when he set the compartmentalized plate and spork down on her tray along with a reusable bottle of water.

“I cooked it, pet. I’m just not ready to hand you breakable plates and sharp things like forks and knives.” Clara grumbled at him and jammed the metal spork into her food. He sat down at the table next to her, elevated from her, and ate his meal…. Also with a spork.

“I’m not going to attack you with a butter knife, Sir.”

He smiled at her usage of the word ‘Sir’. “I’m just being cautious, pet.”

As she watched him dining from his elevated position, Clara felt insulted at being expected to kneel before him. Eating is supposed to be a social event where people chat and enjoy their meal together, as equals. He had relegated her to the floor like the family pet. Oh yes, the ‘pet’ she thought as realization dawned on her. She’s his literal pet. She’s kept in a cage, she eats on the floor, and she must ask permission for pretty much anything. She took a few bites of her meal, fuming at him. Was she just going to accept being this man’s pet? “That’s it!” Clara declared, throwing her hands up in the air. Ian turned to her with a questioning look as she set her plate and water bottle onto the table across from his seat.

“Oh no you don’t!” Ian said when he realized it was her intent to sit across from him. It’s Slave-training 101 to establish where your slave eats and sleeps immediately when a new routine begins. Clara slid into the seat across from his, yelping when her bruised backside hit the hard wood of the chair. She didn’t care. She was drawing a line in the sand. No more kneeling. Ian was up from his chair, pulling at her by the upper arm but she was quick this time and gripped the cage bars in both hands as tight has she could. He could zap her pussy… and he would do exactly that if she didn’t comply, but he wanted to try not relying on that method for every little infraction.

“I want to sit at the table like a normal person!” Clara shouted at him.

“You can sit at the table in ten years when you have regained your freedom,” he hissed back.

“I’m not sitting on the floor!”

“You’re sitting where I tell you to sit!” Ian reached to his back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. One slapped easily over her wrist and he tweaked her side, forcing her to release the bar as she jerked from the tickle he gave her. The next wrist was surrendered when he tickled the other side, and with her hands secured behind her back, Clara was hauled back to the floor on her cushion. He pulled her long, red hair back, twisting his fingers into it as he pushed her face toward her plate. “Eat.” He held his hands on her back and neck when she tried to move away from her plate. “Eat!” he repeated firmly.

“I need my hands to eat.”

“You will address me as Master or Sir. You lost the privilege of using your hands for the duration of the day, pet. Now eat.”

She understood what he wanted. She was to eat like a pet. Reluctantly, Clara lowered her head to take bites of fish and vegetables. She could feel the lemon sauce lingering on the tip of her nose and chin, and smeared across her cheeks as she chewed her food. Ian dropped a straw that WERT brought him into the water bottle and Clara eagerly sipped cool liquid through it. She hated this man, she decided. He was looking for her acquiescence, but he was not going to get it. He did not have her consent in any of this, and she was not going to comply with him. He needed to restore her to her previous life. When she finished her meal, he wiped her face off with a wet cloth and she sat quietly and waited for him to finish his food. “Ian, when are you going to let me go home?” This time, she caught her own error. “Sir, I meant to say.”

He accepted the correction and pointing to the stack of papers on her bed, he answered, “I saw you read your contract, so you know it expires in 10 years. You may go home in 10 years, but the plan is for you to go to Clara-Jane’s home. Actually, the plan is for you to commit yourself to another 10 years to me, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“But I don’t want to be your sex-slave, and I certainly don’t want to give the next 10 years of my life to this purpose.”

Oh, yes, you do. I can smell your arousal from over here. “Pet, I can promise you this: I selected you with great care and caution. You will find enjoyment in this position, and we’re going to leave it at that.” When they were finished with their meals, WERT cleared Clara’s cage of empty plates and returned the items to the kitchen where he cleaned and returned each piece to its place in the cupboard.

Ian switched the handcuffs out for wider, more comfortable individual cuffs that Clara noticed matched her chastity cup with their gold color. At least two inches wide with rounded edges, they looked like they were built for long term wear. The cuffs were joined by a six-inch golden chain and Ian removed the handcuffs which were cutting into her wrists. She felt grateful for the new cuffs but less grateful when he explained that they would not be coming off. A pair of ankle cuffs joined the set next, gracing her ankles with a flash of gold.

“Did you enjoy your dinner?” Ian asked her.

“It tasted good,” she responded.

“Well, whether you enjoyed it or not, it still provided sustenance. Say ‘Thank your Master for feeding me.’”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Sir, for feeding me…. Practically from a trough.”

“Do you have an aversion to calling me Master, pet?”

“Of, course I have an aversion to that,” she snapped at him.

“You have an aversion to that, Sir,” he said. “It’s a good thing your Master has given you the choice to use ‘Sir.’” Until I take that option away from you. Thank you, pet, for giving me something that can jostle your comfort. I plan to use that against you sooner than later. Ian pointed up through the bars of the roof of her cage. “Look up and tell me what you see?”

At first, Clara said all she saw were stalactites until she looked harder. “Is that a ring up there?”

“It is a ring, pet. It’s a ring for your neck.”

“…. So it’s a collar.”

“What kind of slave doesn’t wear a collar? You’ll want that collar,” Ian assured her. “You’ll want it, because it’s your key to this cage.” He continued, “And yes, it must be closed on your beautiful, slender throat in order to work to open the door.”

“It’ll be locked on like the chastity cup?”

“It won’t be stuck to your skin, pet, unless you give me a reason to adhere it to your body.” The collar she would wear was suspended from a cable, dangling down, well out of her reach. “When you have a good day, or you do something that impresses me, you have an orgasm, or you give me an orgasm, the collar makes it way down toward the cage for you to grab and put on. Once you have it on, the door to your cage can open for you. If you misbehave, break my rules, or otherwise fail to live up to my expectations, the collar will ascend toward the ceiling, away from your reach.

“I would like to have an orgasm, please!”

Of course you want an orgasm. You’ve established I’m not a killer, so you’re safe, and confinement drives you crazy. I’ll bet cumming was high on your to-do list for the day. He smiled at her. “While you are in training, for every three orgasms you provide for me, you may have one of your own, assuming your conduct has been good.” Clara appeared surprised or maybe offended at the exchange rate. “Are you interested in giving me an orgasm this evening, pet?” She shook her head defiantly. He had expected as much. It was certainly within his rights to take her by force, and he would if necessary, but he wanted their time together to be associated with positive feelings.

Ian turned to WERT and requested a case from the top of her dresser. WERT passed it through the bars to Ian. He had her stand and face her bed and he jerked her pants down to her knees. She felt ridiculous standing there with her pants pulled down and her ass exposed to him. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” he said as he guided her to her knees and leaned her over the bed and rolled her shirt up so it was out of his way. The case WERT handed him opened with a soft click and Ian withdrew a golden anal plug which he set atop a hand towel on her bed. Upon seeing it, she shook her head.

“No, no. That looks bigger than the one that’s in there right now. The one I have is fine.” She said as she tried to wiggle away from him.

“Pet, I’m not asking. You need anal training and I’m willing to bet you barely even feel the one you have in there anymore. It’s ready to be changed out. He grabbed her firmly by the hips and when she was ready to sit still, he gripped the flat plate stuck to the small of her back, releasing it. The bar from between her cheeks was pulled away and the anal plug came out with it. He set the used plug on the towel so she could compare the size difference. The old one was similar in size to a thumb, and the new one double that size. “These are still very early-stage trainers,” Ian said. “You’ll take much bigger ones before you even taste my cock in your ass.”

Ian threaded the new plug onto the bar via a hole in the base, and Clara whimpered as Ian grabbed her cheeks in his hands and gently pushed them apart to survey his target. Her hole was pink, small, and puckered, pleading to be filled once again. Then with his thumb and forefinger, he held her flesh apart and smoothed a little lubrication onto the plug before he brought it to her pucker. “Just relax,” he told her soothingly as he pressed the larger plug into place. The bar pushed snuggly against her body and he sealed the plate to her lower back, locking the plug into place.

The new plug made her instantly horny and she bucked her hips gently against the bed. Deciding he was enjoying the view, Ian rested for a moment in the recliner. “You may use your hands for this,” Ian said. “I want you to grab your ass cheeks and keep them separated for me. If you’re good, and you do it well, I won’t make you lick your plug clean before I put it away.”

Clara’s vocalized protest was loud and clear, but she quickly grabbed her cheeks with her cuffed hands and separated them for him so he could see the plug nestled deep in her bruised ass. Clara heard the soft zipper descend on his pants and the rustling of fabric followed by the soft, rhythmic beating of his hand pumping his flesh.

“I know you’re enjoying this, pet,” he said as he worked himself toward climax. “Would it surprise you to learn that I can see the juices of your arousal leaking out of your locked up little pussy right now? Your scent is strong, and I am looking forward to the day that I can plunge my cock into you once again and fill you with seed.”

Clara moaned and her fingers tightened, opening her ass wider for him to see the golden bar that held the plug captive inside of her.

“Oh pet, I’m going to cum very soon. What a shame it would be to waste this opportunity and let me bring myself to climax. It wouldn’t count toward your own orgasms. Lean out a little, thrust your ass closer toward me and spread your knees wider. I want to see your locked up cunt better.”

Clara did as she was told, and he could see her hands trembling.

“It’s not too late, pet. Come over here, suck your Master off, and let this one count for you.”

As angry as she was with herself, Clara needed to be practical here. She sat up on her knees and turned around. Ian was leaning back in the recliner with his marvelous cock out of his pants, standing straight up. She approached him on her knees with her pants still down and her eye on the target.

“Don’t let go of your ass, pet. Keep it open for me. WERT, take a video of my pet being so good and sucking my cock while gripping her ass open.

WERT moved into position and his recording light turned on.

“I want your ass thrust toward the camera and the humiliating plug I’m forcing you to wear on display for me to watch later.” Ian pulled Clara’s hair away from her back so it wasn’t obstructing his video feed and he guided her head down to his cock. “You had better be careful, pet,” he warned her, “Or you’ll wear a ring gag from now on.”

Clara wouldn’t dare bite him. She was too horny to even consider mucking up her chances for an orgasm of her own. She opened her mouth wide and allowed Ian to guide his cock into her. Her lips closed around him and she began to suck on him, slurping him like a popsicle.

“Keep that ass open for me,” Ian reminded her. She gripped her flesh harder and thrust her ass toward WERT as she sucked Ian’s hard cock. It mortified her to have her asshole recorded like this, but she wanted that orgasm. She moaned and quickened her pace, pumping him in and out past her lips while her tongue ran across his silky-smooth skin and she sucked on him. Ian grunted and she knew it was coming. Should she pull out and finish him with her hands? How did he want to cum? The answer was provided to her when Ian gripped her head and shot his load into her waiting mouth. “Swallow it up, pet. That’s the proper thing to do with your Master’s seed.” He held her head still as streams of hot, salty cum hit the back of her throat. She swallowed it up as she sat there on her knees with her fingers digging into her tender backside, displaying the anal plug to WERT.

Clara was so incredibly horny, and though she had satisfied Ian’s need, her own need was still very much present, urging her to take care of it. Her pussy was tight and wet and she could feel the moisture of her arousal oozing from the holes on her chastity cup. She could not recall a time having ever been more aroused than she was in that moment, and in desperation, she begged Ian give her release.

“Please, Sir!” she pleaded, still dutifully holding her ass open. “Please can you take the cup off and give me an orgasm? Oh my goodness, please!”

Ian smiled at her as he tucked his spent cock back into his pants. “You have done an amazing job today, pet,” he said, practically cooing at her. “I am so proud of you!” He kissed the top of her head and gave her permission to release her cheeks. “Please, Sir!” she continued begging as he pulled her yoga pants back up to her waist. “I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” Ian asked skeptically. Clara nodded her head with tears practically forming in her eyes. “You can give me two more orgasms and then I’ll let you have an orgasm of your own.”

“Let me suck you off two more times right now!” Clara pleaded.

Ian only chuckled at her. “I’m quite spent for the night, pet. You did so well today! You far exceeded my expectations for day one.”

Clara buried her face in Ian’s lap and he could hear her murmured pleas as his pants got wet from spilled tears. She must have been dying inside from pent up arousal. Ian’s hand stroked her hair as he spoke softly and reassuringly to her. “Look up,” he finally said. She turned her gaze skyward to see the collar descend a little from its elevated position. He gripped her chin in his hand and directed her to look at him. “I am so proud of you! In spite of the punishment I had to give you, you’ve done an excellent job today, pet.”

Clara conceded that she wasn’t going to get an orgasm that day and she scooted away from Ian and settled into a casual kneeling pose when he stood up from the recliner. She watched him with interest as he moved around her cage to wash the smaller plug and store it in the case. She had situated herself into a kneeling position that resembled the low-protocol pose that he had not yet shown her, and he was pleased that she found it on her own; it’s just what felt comfortable for her. “Let’s get you into bed, pet.” Ian held the covers open and Clara reluctantly climbed into bed .“You may watch TV until 10:30 and then it’s lights out.”

“The only thing that’s on TV is the Home Channel and Food Nation,” Clara said, having learned that lesson from earlier in the day.

Ian chuckled. “I see you’ve been exploring. That’s good. I want you to explore your new world -As long as you do it in the confines and limitations I set. I need to keep you safe, pet.”

One final kiss was placed to her forehead and Ian left her in the cage.

“Wait!” Clara said. “My hands!”

“No, no, pet. You lost them for the day. I’ll release you in the morning. WERT can help you with the bathroom. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She looked at him with disbelief and anger painted across her face as he jogged up the staircase, wishing her a good night.

“You’re just going to leave me like this?”

“You’ll be fine, pet!” Ian said as the elevator chimed and opened for him.

When he was out of sight, she let loose. “Mother fucker!” She hollered and caught the flash of red in the corner of her eye.

[wannabechaste]

When is the next part coming? I've been waiting forever

[Blue]

I'm so sorry! I got super busy at work! Clara part 3 is more than halfway written, but it's not done quite yet. Thank you so much for reaching out. It helps me stay focused when I remember people are actually reading and enjoying my stories. <3