Fifteen years ago, I was a successful fluffy (overweight) lady with a business degree who worked in the retail industry. My private office faced out over beautiful Lake Michigan, and I could easily afford a nice loft just a few blocks from work. This was where I could practice and play out my BDSM fantasies. (Sorry skinny chicks, us fluffy girls can get the big jobs on our business talents alone!)
To me, shopping was a passion, a way of life, and included the usual top mall stores: Macy’s, Hudsons, Nordstroms, and others. Wal-Mart was not in my vocabulary.
My career was going great, and I had a happy family supporting me in whatever I wanted. But what I wanted to do was be a slave 24/7 slave. To belong to a wonderful, but demanding Master. Unfortunately, my luck finding Mr Master was going nowhere.
I had plenty of opportunities to play the slave for men who just wanted a fat chick to hide in the apartment, fuck me when they wanted it, and keep the place clean. When I wanted to be OWNED by one who wanted all of me. To be loved by my Owner and worthy of service in all areas of His life.
Life Changes
The winter I turned 31, I treated myself to a trip to Phoenix to party with some of my college girlfriends in the desert sun (while on the sly, maybe looking for a Master to keep me company and further my dreams of being a slave) Little did I know that it was there that I would actually meet my future Owner.
He Was There
On my third night there, after dinner around the fire pit and chatter with the girls, I slipped away to attend a local private BDSM event I had researched and had an invite to.
They had a wonderful hostess who volunteered to take me around to meet the group’s various mentors and show me the ropes, the chains, and the stockade!
At one point, I ventured off to use the ladies’ room. When I came out, I ran into and almost knocked over a tall, leather-clad handsome man with intense steel-blue eyes. I mean really steely blue eyes!
He was the one who apologized to me for not watching where he was walking and helped me get my composure before he went into the men’s room. But as we walked away from each other, we locked eyes until we could not see each other.
Master-Sir and I were an instant item from the moment I bumped into Him. After he left my sight, I just wanted to run back in to sit at his feet. I could feel my face blush as I rejoined my guide, still thinking of Him.
After an hour of being led around and introduced to so many wonderful people, my leather-clad man came to find me. He wanted me!
He asked if He could take over the tour. My guide smiled as she relinquished control. As we walked and talked, it seemed like everyone knew Him and wanted to stop us and say hello. Soon, He asked me if I needed a change of scenery and maybe some food.
He was on his way out before we met and was headed to a Denny’s down the street. He was wondering if I wanted to join Him. I was thinking, Hell, Yes! In my head, I could hear my inner voice scream, “Can I get naked, hand you my leash and walk with you? Oh wait, I don’t have a leash. Or a collar or a Master….”
He said his goodbyes to His friends before He walked me to my car, gave me directions, and left to meet me at the restaurant with a smile.
From the moment we sat down, we started to talk like we were already Masters/slave. He told me how he was not seriously looking for a full-time slave. He didn’t need one, but if He would have one, she would not be a girlfriend, just a slave with no limits. She would also be trained to fit into HIS life.
He was happy with His life and saw a slave as an addition. The life He had, he was not going to change for her. The slave would become His property and fit His life. Not hers.
He went on to describe how His life would be with that slave. It was like he was reading my mind or maybe my diary. What I wanted to be as an Owned slave was what He just told me He wanted to Own. I was important to Him, but He was the man, the ruler, and the Owner.
After an hour or so, His friends from the event showed up and took their places around us. The open conversation was free-flowing about their fetishes and how we looked like the perfect couple.
When I needed to use the ladies’ room, he said I had to ask His permission first. Everyone just ooohed’ and ahhed’ at His command and my immediate obedience. When He agreed, he told me I needed to go with another girl, and I was to return with my panties off.
To Him, it was natural to say aloud to anyone who could hear us talking. It wasn’t the whispered talk like so many others did in public. He was in charge, and it was His command to me. I blushed and smiled as I said my first “Yes, Sir” to Him aloud.
Another lady in the group said she would happily escort me to the ladies’ room properly and make sure I obeyed His command.
In the bathroom, I asked, and she opened up about the man I wanted to serve. She told me He was genuine and that He was serious. If I were to go any further, I better be ready to be a slave in His life, nothing more. That he is a serious Dom looking for a slave. Not a girlfriend or a plaything, but an obedient slave.
And Oh Yea, you will be a proper slave. He does and will have women in His life who are not a slave. A slave is one thing, and a woman is another. No jealousy. “Think about it,” she told me.
I did. I wanted it and would deal with the women’s issue later. At that, she reminded me I better remember to take off my panties before we return from the bathroom if I am serious and want to go further without a punishment.
It just seemed right to reach down and slide my (wet) panties off if that’s what my Master wanted—wading them up to hand them to him. I was blushing at what it must have looked like. But I liked what I was feeling.
When I dropped them in His lap, He smiled, thanked me for ensuring they were wet, and put them in the center of the table. A big girl pair of red panties in public for everyone to see! And there was no mistaking looking at the other females in the group, just who wore those panties. Humiliation on parade!
Everyone agreed to meet at His house when it was time to leave. I was not part of that conversation, but He told me I was riding with Him.
Outside, as I was getting into His truck, He stopped me. He was telling me that slaves ride nude. Right there in front of this strange man I had just met, and five sets of beaming car lights from his friend’s automobile, and within view of the restaurant, I paused, smiled, and removed my clothing in the parking lot!
The nice thing was that the other lady friend was there as well. She told me not to worry and would take them to the house. Then they smiled at me, and we left.
Am I Crazy or am I THAT Desperate?
Ok, how many “First date” rules have I broken because this man was so f’ing yummy??
At the house, His friends gathered in the main room while He told me where to find the bathroom I was to use. (slaves do not use the main bathroom, but the one in the garage would work for me) and where the drinks and snacks were. Without asking me, he assumed I was there to serve them all drinks and snacks and be the maid. I loved it!
Even with everything going on. They stayed dressed, I was naked. i served them drinks, and they offered or ordered them. They talked about almost anything and everything. Nobody made fun of my naked fat body, my saggy tits, or my wide ass. Not a negative word about my weight! Nothing! Just warmth and friendship and commands. They loved me for me and my desire to serve them, serve Him. That’s it!
He told me to sit on the floor beside Him when not doing my duties. And when the time came, I didn’t know there was a time for this. They all wanted to see the new slave masturbate. Yikes!
It wasn’t a question if I would. He was unequivocal that I would. He wanted me to masturbate for them.
Oh, how he was tapping into my love of humiliation and exhibition!
His Directions
I reluctantly crawled to the center of the room, in front of the TV, and looked at my Master, and he smiled. I opened my legs, feeling like I was about to leave a puddle on the carpet, I was THAT wet. Without any coaxing, I leaned back on one arm and used my other hand to open my pussy and started playing with myself. Entertaining for them, humiliation for me.
I found myself wetter than ever before.
Soon, the room disappeared, and the images of serving this man as His naked slave filled my head. I could hear them talking, but it was all good, positive stuff about the slave. They were talking to Him, and they were talking about me. They were NOT talking to me; they were talking to Him about me. I was just their entertainment.
I was soon rolling my eyes and getting shaky and moaning loudly as I hit the peak and began to cum like I never came before and louder than ever!! Ohmygod! I was a mess. I was drained, smiling, and wanting to do it again. But He told me to stay there, to lay back and enjoy the flood of emotions while he covered me with a blanket.
Time was not a factor at that point. i remember His friends all said their goodbyes to him and congratulated him on the new girl.
After they left, he returned to me and helped me return to my reality. When I thanked Him, he said for me to do it right. To Kiss his feet. I pulled myself into position and did as he commanded. I was smiling as I kissed His feet.
Afterward, He let me get my bearings and a drink of water. When I was able, he got me to kneel, then walked me around the house, showing me how He liked things—telling me where everything was and how He expected things to be if I spent the night there.
He made sure that I knew that the slave never went to sleep before all her chores were completed and the house was in proper order! No excuses.
I spent the rest of my vacation there. I never wanted to leave. I was kept naked except when we went shopping or ran errands. Some nights I slept in His bed; others I slept on the floor with just a blanket and a small pillow.
Every morning started with a blow job, and then I was sent off to make His breakfast. I sat on the floor as He fed me His scraps.
Some nights He would masturbate over my tits while all I could do was watch. I was often ordered to masturbate in front of Him in the living room with various toys. He did this to show me He was in charge of my sexual pleasures. Other nights, it was just TV, then sleep. No sex.
At the end of the week, I had to return to where I lived. But I knew where I wanted to live. We had a teary-eyed goodbye at the airport that was followed by many text messages, emails and phone calls.
Thirty days later, I quit my fancy job, sold most of my belongings, and moved to Phoenix to live in my new Owner’s house. My family thought I was nuts, being drugged, or just going off the deep end.
Maybe, but I have never been happier.
I hope this made sense. I tried to explain it all in the best way I could.