The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next evening Charlotte logged on and soon received Master’s latest command.

RubberMaster:

Your speedy obedience in all matters pleases me. You are proving to me that you are a worthy slave and I believe you are ready for the next type of command.

rubberpet:

This slave is grateful that she has pleased Master; she eagerly awaits His next command so she can further demonstrate her obedience.

RubberMaster:

You are proving yourself to be a good slave, but I command you now to step outside your safe environment. An obedient slave obeys no matter what circumstances their Owner sends them into. By Sunday I need you to have picked up a man, not paid for one, simply seduced one. You are to offer to service him sexually, but not orally or through intercourse, simply a so-called ‘hand job’, i.e. you masturbate him to climax. This cannot be done in your home, it must be done in a place of his choosing, the more exposed the better, an alleyway would be ideal.

Charlotte hesitated. This was going beyond simply playing in her home, this was going to have her behaving like a prostitute, not even that, given that she would be doing it for free. She doubted her ability to pick up a man let alone manoeuvre him into doing what her master commanded her to do. Then again, Master seemed to know her and her capabilities. She felt she ought to have more faith in him; that he had read her correctly. After all, he had not been wrong in anything up until now. Thinking about it, was it not the place of a true slave to obey without question whether her Owner’s commands were right or wrong, safe or dangerous? A little nervously, Charlotte replied, worrying that this might be the first occasion on which she would let her master down. Before she had completed her message, another arrived from Master.

RubberMaster:

Your Master is sure that you dress appropriately for this activity. You are a sexy slave and all must recognise this, not only by how you behave but from the moment they see you. Rubber may be disconcerting, but you are a shiny clad slave, so you are to equip yourself with leather clothing before you embark on your task. Show me your outfit before you set out. Remove your vibrator too.

rubberpet:

Yes, Master, i obey.

Charlotte typed her response quickly. Her mind spiralled through all the clothes she had seen online and now Master was giving her permission to indulge in buying some of them, clearly intending that she become a leather-wearing slut, at least for an evening. Charlotte found her initial apprehensions fading, replaced by an excitement in plotting her attempt to fulfil Master’s command. This overcame her initial concerns about being separated from her vibrator even for just an evening. Now she guessed she would either be so worried or so fired up sexually as not to notice.

Charlotte realised that she had too little time to have leather clothes delivered so headed into town. She was pleasantly surprised to find that by searching the boutiques and department stores she was able quite quickly to put together a sexy leather outfit. Sticking to black gave her the widest choice. Getting a nice cropped jacket was easy and long leather boots also seemed popular. Whilst leather skirts might not be as popular as they had been in the Eighties it did not mean they had disappeared entirely; even leather bustieres were around if you searched for them.

That evening Charlotte stepped self-consciously out of her front door. Her emotions were mixed. She was glad it was getting dark as she was worried that one of her neighbours would see her, yet she felt excited too. To some extent that helped compensate for the emptiness she had felt since taking off the vibrator. She realised she could not but help feel sexy dressed the way she was, with or without artificial stimulation. She was reminded of that fact as her sharp boot heels clicked with every step she took. Each movement she made sent the smooth leather creaking sensuously right around her body. There was pleasure too in the fact that was doing this to obey Master. However, there were concerns. She had never managed to pick up a man in a bar or club in her life and she was not sure that even dressed like this she would be able to pull it off. She was worried she would disappoint Master as a result. Cutting against that were the worries about the type of man she might attract and what he might do to her. She understood that this was a test; Master was seeing how far she would obey his commands that made her behave so differently to normal. His commands gave her the assumptions not of her usual conservative self but of a slut. Would she live out the personality he had imposed on her or would she baulk at it? Charlotte knew that she now depended far too much on Master for so much of the thrill in her life that she would be willing to do so much for him. She had to acknowledge too, that everything he had ordered of her had simply made her life more exciting and certainly more sexually fulfilling.

Charlotte decided to go to a club rather than a bar: somehow she felt there was safety in numbers. As she walked to the end of the queue she was aware of the eyes looking at her, not only from the men considering her, but also from the women checking out a potential rival. At least she looked like many of them and a lot did not give her a second glance. Increasingly Charlotte felt reassured, partly because she felt safe behind this leather but also because she felt it was also a camouflage. She guessed that she stood out less dressed like a tart than she would be on the Saturday night streets in the clothes she normally wore. To walk around wearing these clothes seemed to suggest both to men and other women that she was a woman who could handle herself.

Charlotte was soon at the club’s bar. It was moderately busy and before she could put in her order a man was beside her offering her a drink. She accepted immediately. It was the first time a stranger had ever offered her a drink. She checked him out. He had short blond hair and a bright shirt over black chinos and clompy shoes. She saw that a few paces behind him were a few male friends egging him on. He seemed to fit the bill, a run-of-the-mill one of the lads, who would not question if she was keen on a little hand work in an alley rather than insisting on heading home for something a bit more substantial. Charlotte realised she was not really even looking for sex, that came from Master, what she wanted was a man she could use to demonstrate her love for Master. She stopped herself though, recognising however eager she was to have this man, he must not feel that she was taking the lead. She sipped her drink and listened while he spoke about his work and his car; she nodded in the right places. Charlotte took another drink from him and moved around so he was looking away from his comrades. Having finished her second drink she lent in and cupped one of his bum cheeks in her hand as she did.

“I’m a little hot, do you fancy taking me somewhere a little quieter?”

The man did not have to be asked twice. Within minutes they were leaving the club. Charlotte caught sight of an alleyway and nodded towards it. “Up here, it’ll be quiet.”

Once he was in the alley, Charlotte pushed his unresisting body against the wall, and let him press forward for a kiss. His tongue was warm and tasted of stale beer but as Charlotte used hers to toy with it, she tingled imagining this was Master that she was preparing to serve. Charlotte was keen to move the action on and lowered her hand to the man’s crotch. Unsurprisingly he was hard and she did not hesitate, she simply pressed her hand on his fly and let his cock harden further beneath.

“It’s my time of the month.” Charlotte lied. “But I can give it a stroke.” She added with a saucy smile.

“Are you a pro?” The man asked muzzily.

Charlotte glowed inside to think she could have been mistaken for a prostitute. She took that as a sign she had handled things well.

“I don’t think so, you usually have to ask them. Even if I was, this would be a freebie. Do you have a problem with that?”

The man shook his head and let his tongue be assaulted again by Charlotte’s. She guessed he knew he had risked losing this offer and would now be compliant. She moved her hand down to his chinos and eased down his flies. She had to do nothing else as his hard member emerged quickly from his trousers. Charlotte took the man’s cock into her grasp, the first time she had handled a man’s flesh this way since Matt had left her. She wished now that she would have worn gloves. There would have been something so good about seeing his flesh sliding between shiny black leather. However, her hands seemed to move over his reasonably sized member without too much difficulty and she guessed he would soon climax.

As the man’s arousal grew, Charlotte felt the urge to fall to her knees and take his cock in her mouth. It would be so sordid, so cheap, to do that in an alleyway. Yet, Master had not commanded she do that and she was coming to understand why. To suck a man off would be for her to abase herself before him and that was a right only Master possessed. In effect, in manipulating this man on Master’s command, she was making him as much a toy of Master as she was herself. Master was saying: ‘look, I use you as I choose; you act as I command’, but also he was demonstrating his ability to draw strangers, men or women, into the scope of his power. Charlotte felt even greater pleasure as she stroked vigorously knowing the delight in serving Master but also that she was effectively making this man his toy too.

The man began shuddering and Charlotte knew her task was almost complete. He threw his head back against the wall, his eyes closed then he convulsed spraying his jism over the taut leather of Charlotte’s miniskirt. She watched as it trickled over the black leather and dripped to the floor. Charlotte felt light headed, her mind assaulted by the sordid thing she was doing, but staggered too by what that made her feel. Beneath the skirt, her pussy, naked of even a thong, and pressed against the tight leather ran hot and wet. Charlotte recognised Master was cleverly crafting her into such a sexual being and she drank in the sensation of taking another step. She wiped the creamy liquid from her leather and lent forward to give the man a parting kiss.

“Call me?” The man’s came weakly; he seemed barely recovered from his climax.

“I’ll see you around.” Charlotte replied coyly.

Charlotte strode out of the alley with what she knew was a sassy looking walk. She guessed she was slipping into a taxi even before the man had got his cock back in his chinos. She smiled to herself feeling a little guilty in the pleasure she got from imaging the disbelief of his friends when he recounted his encounter with the mysterious woman in black leather.

Charlotte hurried to her computer tell Master all about the encounter, stopping only to restore her vibrator to its proper place. She was rewarded with pulses coming through her vibrator rather than the continuous buzz she had previously received. This kept her in a high state of arousal until, after three hours, Master gave her release and Charlotte’s sweat-covered, leather-coated body kept convulsing with pleasure even after the artificial stimulus had subsided.

It was now a week since Charlotte had taken the man for Master. The rewards had been great, it did not seem that a day went by without something arriving in the mail for her. Erotic clothes were mixed with packages of jewellery and make-up suitable for a porn star. Her life centred on being rubberpet and she increasingly thought of Charlotte Griffith the accountant as some sort of false identity and a very superficial one at that; a cover to distract any rival masters who might seek to steal her away from Master. Now she sat in her latest gifts from her master: a bright red rubber sheath dress that made her body so sleek. Below were vinyl-topped red fishnet stockings that slid into patent red vinyl ankle boots with a high sharp heel, which, she now realised, was the only way she now liked her footwear to be; anything less was just wrong.

Charlotte switched on her computer and headed to the internet. Much of her free time not spent serving Master, she passed reading stories of dominance and submission and viewing websites of tight rubber clothing. Before she had typed anything though, Charlotte found her browser whisking her to a particular site. She looked at the website in fascination. At first Charlotte thought someone had simply copied her moniker as ‘rubberpet’ was emblazoned across the top. However, with a chill feeling she realised that the woman shown on the home page, her legs splayed as she stood there proudly, but of course submissively, in a tight rubber outfit, was herself. Of course putting the head of someone famous on the image of a sexy body was a common practice across the internet and she could assume that that could happen to mere mortals like herself. Yet, as she looked, she knew that these teasing photos, and presumably those in the ‘galleries’ that only subscribers could access, were of herself. Charlotte clicked on the ‘About Me’ section and it had her first name, her age and her location, London, correct.

What gave her a real buzz was the description of her love of rubber clothes, of her submissive nature and how she belonged to RubberMaster. Seeing those things set out so calmly gave a real thrill as she knew that there was nothing on this site that she could deny as not being the truth. She had gone down a road, had enjoyed every step and was seeing some of the consequences of the choices she had made. Charlotte’s initial anger with Master was quickly fading. Surely the effort he had put into this site showed the extent he cared for her and how keen he was that she realise her total sexiness.

Charlotte clicked on the first of the galleries and found it was accessible to her. She guessed Master must have sent the correct cookies to her machine so she was treated like a full member. That also reassured her as she knew that she could see what anyone else could see about her. She clicked on the second gallery showing her slowly impaling herself on the big black rubber dildo, her face showing her authentic pleasure at doing this; showing too how she had performed for her audience. Now, of course, that could be any man who paid enough; not simply Master. Yet again, though, was not Master schooling her in the true ways of being a slave? A proud owner loved to show off his slave and the slave gained pleasure from that exposure, knowing that however much others might want her, she belonged to her master alone.

Having visited the site, Charlotte quickly logged on to the instant messaging service. She knew a slave did not summon her master, but she was sure he would have a message for her. However, no message came and Charlotte gradually realised that Master was communicating with her through the act of creating a website. The suspicion she had had was confirmed when she checked her online bank account and discovered a string of payments in from a number of strangers’ credit cards. Master’s actions were now providing her with extra funds that she imagined spending on even more sexy clothing. Then the webcam came to life and Charlotte started posing in her red outfit, more eagerly than before, knowing that the results of her actions would be revealed to all through the website. Arching her back and rubbing her hands over her shiny body, Charlotte found she was coming already, and she felt guilty. She slowed her actions and waited for Master to trigger her vibrator to deliver His reward. As he did and she orgasmed Charlotte shrieked loudly, feeling amazingly unashamed in what she was doing; relishing her abandoned, debauched nature.

Being summoned by Mr. Atkins was not anything unusual for Charlotte. He would often outline the companies whose accounts he wanted her to work on in the coming months or to receive an update from her about her progress. However, seeing the severity of his expression when she walked into his office, Charlotte was concerned something was wrong.

“Miss. Griffith, ah, there you are. Please take a seat.”

Atkins’s tone, like that of a headmaster talking to a recalcitrant pupil, further alarmed Charlotte, but she thought it best to keep quiet and not betray any concern.

“Miss. Griffith, you know that we do not pry into the private lives of our staff. However, a few things have been brought to my attention which seem to be incompatible with your work for us. This is not a very large firm and the loss of just a few clients can have a big impact on our business. Now, I and others had noted a few changes about you in recent weeks...”

Charlotte blushed. She felt as if Mr. Atkins was looking at every part of her. She was glad that her navel stud was concealed and she could speak without revealing the tongue stud she had had put in a week earlier, but she nervously touched the small silver one in her nose and tried to conceal the shiny, pointed boots she wore, beneath her manager’s desk.

“... though in general these seemed to benefit your work. Whilst you seemed to have lost the sense of initiative you had when we first employed you, your punctuality and your attention to work were excellent. However, we have just been alerted to this.”

Mr. Atkins began to turn his slim computer screen to face Charlotte. Even though she had now anticipated what it showed, she still felt a shock as he revealed the rubberpet website.

“A client who you’ve worked with, alerted us to this. How she saw it, we did not ask. Is this you?”

Charlotte thought about denying it, saying that those were manipulated images put up to discredit her. However, she knew that the truth could soon be proved and anyway the background showed her flat. Her face was very clear in every shot.

“Er, Mr. Atkins, it is. Erm, I did not put up the website, it was constructed by, er, erm, a friend.”

“But you permitted it? You posed for these photos? You are paid from the subscriptions to this site?”

Charlotte nodded. She was worried that Mr. Atkins would question her in depth, continuing her humiliation. Her body burned with embarrassment, and Charlotte realised that this was one of the toughest tests Master had asked of her. Yet, she increasingly felt proud, she had not denied his work, she had not pretended she was not rubberpet.

“Well, you can fight this. I have to confess that it would be impossible to sack you for what you have done out of work time. There is no reference to the company. However, it is possible that more clients may make a connection between these images and one of our employees and that will damage our business, I have no doubt. I don’t need to know what motivated you to do this; but I imagine the income will mean you will not suffer hardship from leaving this job. Fight us if you like, but I am sure it will mean greater embarrassment for you.”

Charlotte said nothing. She simply thought of Master as that gave her strength.

“It has been proposed to offer you six months’ salary, indefinite leave now and to accept your resignation from this moment. That surely will give you enough time to decide which route you will take from now on. We have no interest in information about this matter spreading in the accountancy profession, but you may think about moving into another field of work. Do you accept?”

Charlotte realised she had now crossed a bridge. Atkins was not in a strong position, but she recognised that it would now be a challenge to find work in accountancy and probably many other professional fields. However, that realisation opened up other thoughts: if this website was successful maybe there were opportunities in modelling fetishwear. She was sure Master could arrange it for her. She realised that she could take a further step, there would be no need to change her clothes when she got home, they would be what she wore all the time.

“Miss. Griffith?”

Charlotte’s attention snapped back to where she was. She realised her fantasies had begun spiralling off, but she felt they were in reach; they could soon become reality. Charlotte’s pleasure at that realisation made her certain that it was the right path.

“Yes, Mr. Atkins, thank you. Goodbye.”

Mr. Atkins looked a little startled by her response, but in moments Charlotte was leaving the room. In half-an-hour she was out of the building, her career in accountancy at an end. Yet, as she slipped into her car Charlotte felt her new life was really beginning. Rather than heading straight home, Charlotte drove into town. Now feeling released from worrying about what she had to wear, she decided to now dress to appear like the woman she felt, and the woman she actually was behind closed doors. Charlotte had passed the boutique with the mannequins dressed in fetishwear when looking for the tattooists, but still had lacked the courage to go in. Now that fear had gone.

The woman behind the counter with piercings springing from her face and heavy make-up barely looked at Charlotte as she entered. She was no doubt used to bored office workers passing an afternoon gawping at the clothes her store held. Maybe some even bought a few items to wear to a fancy dress party. Charlotte was quickly building an idea of what she wanted: something less than fetish, but still very sexy; something that she could wear on the street and people would know immediately that they were looking at a sexually aware woman, proud rather than afraid of the fact. After all a portion of her income now came from a pay-to-view website and women featured on such sites did not walk around in business suits, well, not unless they were made of rubber for a standard ‘sexy secretary’ set of shots.

Charlotte decided she wanted something that stuck out when she walked around the streets. She had enough black and red items. Soon she was picking out a white leather mini-skirt and a matching bustiere that left her midriff bare so her navel stud could be seen. She got a white, cropped leather jacket and then matching thigh boots, though these were glossy vinyl. As a finishing touch she took white fishnet stockings topped with vinyl themselves. The shop assistant paid little attention as Charlotte disappeared into the changing room with her bundle of clothes. Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror dressed in her business suit. She wondered if she would ever dress like this again or whether the clothes she was about to put on would really become everyday wear. Quickly she shed her jacket and blouse then sent her bra after them. In moments she was zipping the bustiere closed over her naked, aroused breasts; then she slipped into the cropped jacket loving the sleek feel of the leather and the rich aroma. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail; that seemed more appropriate for these clothes than leaving it hanging loose over her shoulders.

Charlotte’s pin-striped grey suit trousers now felt out of place and she quickly shed them and her panties soon followed. She glanced at the vibrator giving her that constant comforting buzz and recognised that she was getting as fired up by what she was doing as by the sensations she was being provided by Master. This was a big step, she now understood, she was taking a step in becoming a more sexual creature not at the instigation of her master, but now because it felt right to her. She scrunched up the stockings then slid one then the other up her legs. She liked this white: there was something at once both so virginal yet so sinful in them. It was ironic that white stockings were only worn by the naughtiest of women, their visibility countering the innocent nature of their colour. The feeling, as she zipped the short skirt in place, cupping her bum but stretching only a short way down her thigh, was delicious. All that remained were the boots and she was quickly easing into them. As she slid the final zip the remaining inch she felt sealed herself into her new identity, excited that she would step from this shop looking this way; looking so clearly sexual.

Charlotte walked from the changing room and casually up to the counter. Sales tags still hung from each of the items, but she felt there was no way she wanted to take any of these garments off. She picked up the scissors sitting on the counter and snipped the tags off one-by-one. The assistant looked on without saying anything, though Charlotte was uncertain whether that was because such transformations were a common sight or she had nothing to say. The woman rang up all the goods and Charlotte paid. Then she walked from the shop with her business clothes left abandoned in the changing room. She strode on her sharp heels through the town, almost fishing for glances from the shoppers. There seemed no need to hurry. Charlotte stopped in a cafe and then stood searching through the erotic fiction on the shelves of a large bookshop, almost as if daring people to be indignant with her; relishing the blatancy of her sexuality.

Finally Charlotte made it through her front door feeling so different to how she had when she had set out for work that morning. She really sensed that she had taken a big step and forever more would be a transformed woman. She wanted to celebrate the fact and quickly got out of her new leathers, keen that Master her tell her what to wear. She hurried to fire up her computer. Frustratingly Charlotte seemed unable to raise Master on the instant messenger, so reverted to the email. She was burning to get her message through to him. Charlotte typed, ‘Master, there is no need any longer for me to put Steel on my emails, because my scene life and my real life have merged. Your slave, rubberpet’. She headed the email ‘total acceptance’. As she did she felt a real tingle run through her. Charlotte wondered if Master would be annoyed as she had taken her own initiative, but she remembered that good slaves did take the initiative when they knew their actions would please their Master. Charlotte was increasingly sure that this would. Charlotte clicked on the Send button and felt suddenly intensely aroused.

Charlotte stroked at her aroused pussy, but felt guilty doing so without Master’s command. She refreshed the screen of her email account and gasped as she saw an email marked ‘Orders’. It was clear that Charlotte’s statement had pleased Master, he had dropped ‘Steel’ from the message line too. Charlotte felt the game had entered another level. Charlotte’s fingers were clumsy as she opened the email.

‘slave, it pleases Master that you have finally recognised the change he has brought in you.’ Charlotte felt real pleasure running through herself. ‘Now you are a true slave and not some bored woman just playing at it, the words ‘Paper’ and ‘Unbuckle’ lose all power in any contact between us. Now that you have become truly my possession it is wrong that this relationship continues at a distance. Ready yourself as shown in this image. Do not communicate with anyone. You will be collected in one hour and be brought to me so you can serve me properly.’

For a moment Charlotte sat re-reading the words. This was certainly a step-up in the game. She did not really believe anyone would come for her, it just seemed more likely that Master wanted her to dress in a certain way so the online play could continue. She clicked on the attachment and was not surprised to see that it appeared to be a picture of herself dressed in shiny black clothes. She wore the long ballet boots with the chain shackled between her legs. Above was the short latex miniskirt which she was pictured hitching up at the front to show the remote-controlled vibrator tucked into her pussy. Her breasts were simply covered with a bandeau, so leaving her midriff bare and she could see the tag on her navel ring that named her ‘rubberpet’. Her arms wore latex opera gloves stretching past her elbow. Her wrists were locked together, with the longer chain, no doubt to permit her to close and lock each leather cuff herself. Around her neck was the shiny black collar. Her face was heavily made-up, with metallic pink lips, and her eyelids sparking with red glitter, her lashes teased to porn-star length. Her hair was lifted up into a high ponytail then cascaded freely to her shoulders. This was clearly a picture of a sex-slave and Charlotte realised that she was to become that woman.

However, despite knowing she had to start work to be ready in any hour, Charlotte was hesitant. She was uncertain what Master had said about visiting her had been real. Had he found out where she lived? Had she given it away one day and forgotten? She thought she had better check. She did worry she might upset Master and he would call off this evening’s game as a punishment. Even so, she found herself titling an email ‘Paper: clarification’. Then wrote ‘rubberpet humbly begs Master to tell her if he is really coming to see his humble slave tonight.’ She clicked Send, but in moments the email bounced back, saying ‘account not found. For a moment Charlotte was frustrated and tried again, but the account would not receive it. She erased the word ‘Paper’ from the title and tried again. This time it worked and very quickly there was a response.

‘Of course. rubberpet should abandon her computer, she has no further need of it, Master is angry that she is not getting ready. She has only 55 minutes remaining until she is collected and begins to truly become Master’s possession.’

The response confused Charlotte, if this was going to be online play, Master would want her back in front of her computer. All the concerns she had had about getting caught up with some kind of psycho now rushed back to her. She was sure that he knew where she lived and that he was coming for her. Charlotte cursed herself for being so foolish, letting her weakness draw her into this.

Quickly, Charlotte typed ‘Unbuckle’ into the message line and repeated it in the body of the email. It bounced back. She tried to be clever and put ‘acceptance’ in the title and ‘Unbuckle’ in the body, but that failed too. She put ‘acceptance’ in both, but that did not seem enough either. Increasingly Charlotte felt she had been hasty. Maybe acceptance was not enough. For a moment she wondered if she should type ‘compliance’, but even that seemed to allow too much free will in the equation. Charlotte tried to think what a good slave would do. Finally she left the title blank, a slave did not have to draw attention to her responses, they were simply expected. In the body of the email she just typed ‘obedience’. As she hit Send, Charlotte felt a sudden gush of relief as if she had shaken off some heavy burden.

In moments an email returned, titled simply ‘Final’. Charlotte felt a qualm of disappointment as she realised that the game was coming to an end. No doubt Master was annoyed by her not wanting to take the relationship to being face-to-face. If things had not been so hurried Charlotte realised she might have considered it, as long as it had built up slowly, meeting face-to-face in public first and then developing. She wondered if Master would curse and be rude in the email for her pulling out now. She felt compelled to open the email. As she clicked on it, she saw that there was only a single phrase ‘Steel4Real’ it said. As Charlotte read this she felt as if she was tumbling through space. A pile of random numbers and letters scrambled up her computer screen before it went dead and black.

Awkwardly Charlotte tried to switch it back on, she felt she had to email Master, but there was no life in the machine, the last email had somehow wrecked it. Charlotte sat at her desk still feeling rather dizzy. She took a few deep breaths and calmed herself. As she did, things became clearer, she chided herself for sitting there, she had no need for the computer, slaves had no need for them, and she was neglecting her commands from Master, she had so much to do. Charlotte stood up from the desk and walked naked to the bedroom.

Charlotte had the image of how Master wanted her to appear burned into her mind’s eye. She already wore the vibrator Master had sent and dimly Charlotte felt the rise in the familiar buzz begin and she knew Master must have now called it as a reward for her complying with his orders. Charlotte ignored the pleasure for the moment and walked to her wardrobe. She looked at the lovely clothes hanging there all neatly in a line, the boots and shoes beneath them. These shiny creations all felt so much more real to her than the boring clothes she had worn to work and were generally nowadays left in a heap, not deserving of hanging close to the gifts from Master.

From among the large collection Master had bestowed on her Charlotte quickly located the rubber miniskirt, bandeau, gloves and boots that she had been ordered to wear. In minutes, she was sliding the rubber up her thighs and smoothing the very short skirt into place, loving how it just cupped her bum and stretched so taut between her thighs. As she moved to pick up the bandeau she realized how much she loved the sensation of the slippery rubber clinging to her naked body. Her breasts were already rising erect in anticipation as she slipped the bandeau over her head and down her arms then adjusted it so it held her tight; her nipples so prominent in the shiny black rubber.

Not hesitating to savour the sensations, Charlotte gathered up the opera gloves. The interior was already slippery, ready to ease on. Charlotte scrunched them up, then stretched the left one out, from her fingers, right up her arm. The right one soon followed. Charlotte ran her rubbered-fingers over her bare midriff, keen to play with herself, but aware there were still things to be done. Charlotte sat on the bed and pulled on one latex thigh boot, followed by the other, so that soon, her legs were like her arms, their contours shown by the long sleek shiny black rubber covering. Charlotte crossed to her bedside table and opened the drawer. Inside she found the simple black leather collar that she loved so much. Without hesitation she opened it, put it round her neck, buckling it closed. As always she thought of Master’s strong hands closing it around her, showing she was nothing but a slave.

More tentatively she reached into the drawer for the small silver navel ring in its tiny plastic bag. Now she knew she could do nothing but put it on. Carefully she slipped out the stud which sat in her navel, it was a discreet one for work, and eased in the one with her tag, ‘rubberpet’. She shuddered as she it sat in place, naming her, giving her the identity of a slave. Then, as she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror, Charlotte realised that it was more than this piece of jewellery that showed she was a slave.

Charlotte walked over to her dresser, loving the way her rubber-covered hips were forced to sway by the high sharp heels of her boots. Charlotte opened the drawer that held the make-up she kept for Master. Nothing reminded her of how little make-up she had once worn as she expertly painted her lips the metallic pink shade and outlined them with a thin line of black. In moments she painting her eyelids in glittery red and was teasing her eyelashes with the volumising mascara brush. She removed the discreet gold nose stud and replaced it with the much larger zircon stud. She also replaced her tongue stud, knowing it would make her lisp and sure that Master would expect her to use her mouth sexually rather than for speech. Finally Charlotte released then brushed her hair and gathered it up again, forcing it through a shiny rubber loop, so that it stood up over her head before falling as a ponytail down to her shoulders. Then she stood, her hair swaying as she did.

Every step Charlotte took she felt aware of how she was dressed and behaving, but while she was conscious of it, any questions seemed to fade immediately from her mind. There was no need to question, she knew what to do, and she was doing it, she was obeying. Increasingly Charlotte felt that that was all she could do. Decision-making had been stripped from her. Everything she wore, how she painted herself, how she moved, who she was, what she was, were decided by Master. Charlotte entered her living room and lowered herself to the floor, loving the way her rubber clothes squealed as they strained around her shapely body. As she did, Charlotte felt the buzz in her pussy increasing and she knew she was pleasing Master. She continued kneeling, her rubber-gloved hands resting on her shiny miniskirt that held her so tightly as she felt the trickle of her juices running between her legs.

Charlotte heard the door of her flat open. She did not question that Master had access, she just waited, kneeling for him, her head bowed demurely. Charlotte smelt the aroma of leather and heard the footsteps coming closer, but she dared not look up. A leather-covered hand reached past her face and attached a leash to the ring set into her collar. Charlotte felt the leathered fingers curl round her chin and lift her face up. Over her stood a man in a long leather coat, with loose leather trousers that ran into knee-length thick-soled boots fastened with numerous buckles. Above that he wore a long velvet shirt closed with laces.

Master looked around forty. His hair was cut short, and was dark but touched with hints of grey. His dark blue eyes fixed on Charlotte and she felt that his gaze was scorching away any will that remained within her. He said nothing. Charlotte continued to look at him adoringly, his appearance reminding her of all the sexy things he had made her do.

Master produced a small padlock from his pocket and rested it in the palm of his hand which he held in front of Charlotte’s face so she knew what it meant. It was coated in glistening rubber just like the clothes she wore and it had no lock for a key. As Master lent forward and reached behind Charlotte she knew that her collar was being locked on to her for good. As she felt Master attach the lock and then the click as he closed it she gasped as she knew truly she was sealed into being his possession.

“Master.” rubberpet said, her voice weak.

As she spoke the word aloud for the first time, rubberpet shook with an orgasm as she realised that it was not only her collar which had been locked, but that all the tumblers Master had installed inside her mind, had turned into place. The padlock had been the key which had aligned them all, and she was as sealed to him mentally as her collar was fixed physically.

“Master, how can i serve you?”

Master smiled and began walking from the living room. As the leash tightened against her collar, rubberpet scrambled to her feet, realising she would now never go anywhere on her own volition, she would be led or commanded there by Master. rubberpet strode behind Master, loving the sensation of strutting on her high heels, led like a true pet on her leash, off to properly live out her life as her master’s possession.