HIM

Courtney looked at her prepared, 5’6” form in the mirror for several long moments as she thought about the adventure that was to come. She couldn’t believe how spectacular her young, healthy frame looked after all the trouble she’d gone through the past year to make herself perfect for HIM. Now, she stood in the master bedroom of her rich home and took in the image of the woman she had become.

A strict diet and exercise routine made her already attractive form powerful and sleek. A boob job from one of the most expensive plastic surgeons in the country gave her perfect 34F –cup breasts. The long nipples were made even longer by pierced nipple collars; rings of titanium steel slid far down the areole of each nipple and kept in place with a horizontal piercing. Courtney made sure those piercings were permanent by having them fashioned in such a way that there would be no creases or hinges available once they were seated into place. Like her nipples, her labia each sported metal piercings, but these were in the form of small eyelets. A glittering, horizontally ring hung like a door knocker over her pussy from her clit. This two inch diameter ring was also made of titanium and was so perfectly machined as to be seamless once it closed into place. Her tongue and the septum of her nose had similar rings, as did each ear lobe and the tip of each elongated nipple. Small, tinkling silver bells hung from her each of her ears and each of her nipples. The tinkling sound excited her and made her skip as she walked.

Courtney had gone through several hair removal processes until every last hair except her long, luxurious eyelashes had been removed. Even her head was smoothly bald without a single hair fiber. This had been the last step in preparing her body to be the perfect slave for HIM. Now she stood naked and completely bare before the full length mirror, silver piercings glinting in the lamplight, a delicate smile spreading across her plump lips.

She shivered with excitement and danced over to the maple wood box resting on her four poster bed. Her fingers danced with anticipation as she lifted the lid of the box and looked down into the red, velvet lined top at a glistening steel collar, a solid ring with no apparent hinge and contact points within its surface. Courtney let out a delighted giggle as she looked at the specially machined collar that she would wear for HIM. But that step was the last. First, she needed the other bands.

Delicate fingers danced down the varnished wooden box as she opened each drawer and took out a ring polished steel, each similar to all the others but of varying sizes and most in matching pairs. Each collar was lined with neoprene rubber on the inside for a safe and secure hold and was about one and a half inches in width and an eighth of an inch thick.

Once she had all the rings laid out, she took up the first pair and attached them to her ankles. As she closed the ring around one ankle, the two ends slid together and let out a soft click of finality. The ring was perfectly measured to her dimensions and hugged her ankle closely. She smiled at the feel of the ring and attached to other to her right ankle.

Taking a step back, Courtney examined the gleaming steel anklets. Their craftsmanship was the best money could buy. Not a seam was apparent and the lack of a key hole reminded Courtney that the only one who could remove the ankle collars was HIM. Her arousal grew and it took all of her willpower to resist masturbating right then and there. She shivered with delight and dove back for the rings laid out on her bed.

Once she was finished, silver bands of steel adorned each ankle, both legs above and below the knees, each wrist and elbow, her slim waist, and the base of each plump breast. The breast collars were her favorite accessory. Each one was designed to fit her breasts so snuggly that it caused them to balloon and bulge ever so slightly and provided each breast with support. These collars were also unique in that they were nearly two inches wide, a half inch thick, and each was lined with small metal nubs that protruded through the neoprene rubber along the inside.

It was finally time for the last step. Courtney reached out to the three inch tall, steel collar and inspected the rings on all four sides of the smooth surface. She smiled at the heavy feel of those rings and the soft metallic sing they made as she shifted the collar about. She tilted the collar and inspected the lined inside. This collar shared the features of her breast collars, being a half inch thick and lined with little metal nubs along the inside.

Without further delay, she brought the ring of steel up to her throat and slipped the snug band about her neck, closing the ends and hearing the final clicks as the locks clicked into place.

Her heart fluttered and her skin tingled as butterflies filled her stomach. She had done it, passed the point of no return. The excitement emanating from within began to radiate off of her body. The culmination of a year of hard work and nearly a quarter of her fortune had finally come to pass.

Courtney twirled about in place and froze when she caught her image in the mirror. Her eyes slowly panned up her glowing body, the gorgeous, bald and banded woman staring back at her looked little like the picture of her former self hanging over the bed. A shiver of delight ran through her body.

“Courtney, come down here at once,” a powerful, masculine voice boomed out over the house’s intercom system. Courtney froze in place, the butterflies returning to her stomach. It was HIM.

“Coming!” she cried out as she dashed from her bedroom and down the hall to the stairs and down into the main hall.

The call was repeated and the urgency rose within Courtney as she hurried her pace so as not to displease HIM, her bare feet slapping on the expensive tile floor as she dashed towards the back of the house and the door leading to the basement.

“If I have to call one more time…” the masculine voice threatened, sending Courtney’s heart aflutter with the possible repercussions of that statement. Spurred on by her desire to please, she flung the door open and dashed down the wooden steps and into the converted basement.

The room was plunged into darkness except for a single spotlight positioned in the center of the room and pointing down to a pair of red footprint shapes and a small yellow oval. Courtney dashed across the stone floor and stood perfectly straight with her feet carefully perched on those red prints and her hands straight down at her sides in a perfect “attention” pose.

The masculine voice spoke with a predatory edge, emanating from speakers about the room, obscuring the true direction of the speaker, “Very good, girl. Now, let me remind you of your current position. You are to remain perfectly still. The yellow oval on the ground marks the boundaries of the sensor grid detecting your body. It perfectly encircles your body when you are in a ridged attention. If any part of your body crosses that boundary, you will be punished. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Courtney replied quickly.

“That’s ‘Yes Master’ to you, girl.”

“Yes Master,” Courtney corrected herself.

“Very good, this is the only time you will be told. Failure to use the correct honorarium from here on out will result in punishment. Is that understood?”

“Yes Master,” she responded.

“Very good.”

The lights throughout the basement slowly grew until the entire room was visible. Directly across from where Courtney stood was a large, flat screen computer monitor mounted on the wall and a bank of computers. The computer monitor softly hummed and its glow intensified until it turned blue and the letters “H – I – M” were displayed perfectly centered.

The strong voice returned, “You are now the slave of HIM, the Human Imitation Master. From this point on, you will only refer to HIM as Master. You are enslaved and will obey every order given you or be punished. You will experience pain and pleasure at your Master’s whim. You shall never leave your home as your Master will have all necessities delivered to you and all bills will be maintained through the use of your private fortune. Your will is no longer a consideration. Do you understand this?”

Courtney’s heart thudded inside her chest as she maintained her straight and tall posture. Her eyes dropped to her feet and thoughts began racing through her mind. This was the final failsafe. Could she really go through with it? To be a slave for the rest of her life to this machine, this computer she had designed at great expense to herself. A little voice inside her head cried out for her to speak the safe word, but her mind spiraled on waves of arousal and she imagined all the things she would be required to do and would have to go through over the course of her life at the “hands” of this machine.

“By responding ‘Yes Master,’ you will complete the initiation program and will be permanently enslaved. Now, do you understand?” the computer asked impatiently.

Courtney’s eyes rose to the blue monitor before her and she found her voice, “Yes Master.”

The lights around the chamber began to dim and finally went out, leaving Courtney beneath the eye of the single searchlight above and holding her gazing into the blue glow of the computer monitor.

“Slave, what is your name?” the computer asked.

“My name is Courtney, Master.”

A powerful shock jolted through Courtney’s breasts and throat as the collars activated. She let out a scream of pain and jerked in her pose, but quickly returned to attention.

“WRONG!” the voice barked at her, “Tell me slave. What is your name?”

Courtney froze her mouth agape, seeking a reply but nothing forthcoming, her eyes darted about as if she could lift the answer from the sky in front of her. Her frantic thoughts ended with a jolt of pain through her collar and breasts.

“Too slow, slave!” The computer reprimanded, “tell me, do slave’s have names?”

Light dawned in Courtney’s eyes, “no Master. Not unless her Master gives her one.”

“Correct, slave,” the computer actually sounded pleased, “what is your name, slave?”

“I have no name, Master,” the slave replied.

“Correct, slave,” the computer remained quiet for some time, the pause letting the statement sink in for the slave, “would you like a name, slave?”

“Yes Master,” the slave replied. Her body was beginning to ache with the effort to maintain the straight and tall posture as she stood before her Master. The muscles in her arms and legs twitched slightly from their enforced position.

“If you want a name, slave, you are going to have to beg for one.”

The slave gasped inwardly. She was being asked to beg an unfeeling machine to give her a name. It was degrading when she thought about it, and those thoughts led to a warmer feeling emanating from her loins. She wanted to masturbate, wanted to fall to the ground and pleasure herself. But with the field up, she could barely move, barely breathe, let alone bring herself to release. A punishing shock broke the slave’s train of thought.

“Are you even paying attention, slave?” That voice, so condescending. It belittled her and made her feel small. It sounded so much like her Junior High History teacher, the only person not to cater to her because of who her parents were. The first man she ever had a crush on.

“I’m sorry, Master. Forgive me Master,” the slave hastily replied, “Please Master, name me. I want to have a name and I want you to name me, Master. Please. I’ll do anything to be worthy of a name, Master.”

She continued along the same line of begging with no response, her voice growing more desperate as the silence continued. Finally, as her mouth grew dry and the sweat from the heat of the lamp glistened on her body, the computer generated voice broke in, “Enough, slave. Your whimpering is boring. Fine, I’ll give you a name. Your name is Pig. Is that understood?”

Pig felt like she had been slapped. She was to go the rest of her life with that name? Her jaw fell open but she recovered quickly, remembering the painful corrective measures.

“Yes Master.”

“Tell me your name, slave,” the booming voice taunted.

Pig cringed and lowered her eyes. She quickly straightened, however, fearing she might shift her center of balance and break the invisible barrier, “My name is Pig, Master.”

“Very good, slave. Now, let’s make sure you don’t forget that. For the next thirty minutes, you will remain at attention where you are, when you hear a chime, you will repeat ‘My name is Pig, Master.’ If you delay too long in answering or if you don’t speak clearly, you will be punished. Is that understood Pig?”

“Yes Master,” Pig automatically replied but the thought of standing at attention for the next thirty minutes did not appeal to her.

Her mind was reeling. What had she gotten herself into? Her arms and legs were already quivering from maintaining the strict position and her body was glistening with sweat, making her very uncomfortable. Her mouth was dry and she needed a drink but she knew she wasn’t close to dehydration. Master wouldn’t let anything happen to her. The collar that served to punish her also served to aid in monitoring her physiological condition. If she were ill, or needed any sort of assistance, Master would see to her needs.

Pig looked around frantically as the spotlight began to dim. Finally, all that was left was the dull blue glow of the computer monitor and the three bold letters staring her in the face.

A bell chimed and less than a second later Pig experienced a painful burst of electricity in her breasts and throat.

“My name is Pig, Master!” she blurted.

There was a long delay and the bell chimed again, “My name is Pig, Master.”

Her collars remained quiet. Pig sighed in relief just when the bell quickly chimed again. She was surprised, having expected a steady tempo. But apparently, Master would keep her on her toes. The bell would chime at random. A jolting shock seared her breasts and she whimpered, “My name is Pig, Master.”

For the next half hour, Pig remained at attention and fully alert. Trapped in a void of nothingness, she anxiously awaited to hear the coveted sound of the bell so she can hastily declare her name.

10.10.06