Because we both had children with us at times, we did not live together but Master might as well have lived with me. He had me install a web cam and I had to check in as soon as I got home from work. This meant turning on the computer and webcam, stripping and kneeling in front of it. Once I was naked and kneeling, I waited with my hands behind my head and my eyes lowered until he noticed me and sent me an im.
Most days, he im’d me fairly quickly and I was released from kneeling to chat. When I didn’t have the children, I spent my days and nights at home naked, the web cam always on. At first the humiliation was mild. There were inspections by web cam to make sure that I was properly shaven. There was training in the proper slave positions where I would kneel in the correct position, sometimes for 30 minutes or so.
We talked for hours about the things he would do to me eventually and the things he would do to me the next time we were together. He would tell me and then drag my feelings about it out of me. It was painful and it was humiliating to admit that it excited me. There were things that I objected to and we would talk about them endlessly and usually he would say that it would happen but not until I was ready.
As I had a laptop, the webcam and computer went everywhere with me. He watched me in the bathroom. He watched me shower and shave. There is nothing quite so humiliating as a total loss of privacy. He told me constantly that I was nothing but a filthy cunt that was there for his use.
Before he would come in person there were ritual cleansings so that I would be clean for him. He would watch me scrub until I thought my skin was coming off. Every inch and every part of me had to be cleansed. He watched as I douched and later on, as I gave myself an enema to be sure that I was clean inside and out. He watched me shave and told me if I missed a spot I would be punished.
All of this was breaking down the barriers in my mind. I wore the leather dog collar around the clock even to work. It was probably the most humiliating part of it. Men notice if a woman is wearing a collar, they notice and they make it a point to talk to you. I was required to answer and to be polite.
The collar though, reminded me night and day that I was owned. As much as I hated it, it kept me in slave space all the time. I was always slightly aroused. I lived to go home and kneel before him and I anxiously awaited the next time we would be together.
He progressed very slowly breaking down barriers in my mind, humiliating me a little more each day. He would call me on the phone and tell me that I was a cunt, that I was nothing but a sex hole for him to fuck. He would tell me that he owned my sorry ass and that he was going to make me beg him to use me. I hated it and I wanted more. It humiliated me and made me horny.
He made me call and order nipple clamps and a variety of butt plugs. His favorite was the one with the pony tale hanging from it. He loved to watch me put it in and then kneel on all fours wagging my tail. He put a leash on me and called me his bitch.
When he wasn’t there in person, he usually had me wearing the butt plug. He taught me to do tricks like a dog. I would put on the leash and tie it to the door knob and then have to sit and beg or bark and wag my tail. When he was there, I only wore the plug for a short while while he had me on the leash and the floor.
When he got to my house, I was to be naked except for my collar and kneeling in front of the door usually with the plug in. When he walked in the door, I was to kiss his feet and then take his cock out and worship it until he told me to stop. He would usually then make me get into presentation position so he could examine me to make sure I was clean and well shaven.
I was never allowed on the furniture when he was there but required to sit or kneel at his feet. He usually brought a paddle or flogger with him but when I was in dog mode he would use the leash to spank me. Once I had passed inspection, he would sit on the couch and allow me to worship his cock and balls. If I didn’t go fast enough or didn’t seem to be paying attention, he would jerk my collar and smack me with the leash until I got busy and gave them the attention they deserved.
While I understand that some slaves get fucked often, sex was a reward for me. Master delighted in having me perform for him usually as a dog but there were other things as well. He taught me to do a strip tease to please him and I spent hours standing in front of him taking my clothes off and then putting them back on and doing it again until I could do it just the way that pleased him.
His control extended to more and more parts of my life. He began telling me what and when I could eat and what I could wear and not wear. Every outfit had to be approved the day before and I was required to box up all my underwear so I would not be tempted to wear them.
Nothing he asked me to do was truly difficult. Somethings were uncomfortable, some things were embarrassing but nothing was truly beyond my limits… yet, but by doing these things day after day, by giving him control of the simplest things in my life, he was preparing me for the next step.