What Became of Me

“So far, you’ve been a very well-behaved little doll,” Petra continued. “Always nodding nicely, agreeing to everything I say. That’s the way to go. But just nodding is easy. Nodding is the doll’s equivalent of pretty but meaningless words.”

That was, of course, true. I knew that I had to prove my worth as Petra’s bondage toy through my actions – through endurance, through stamina, through perseverance.

“I want to show you something.”

Petra reached for her cell phone, glanced at it briefly, nodded with satisfaction, stood up, and held the screen right in front of my face. What I saw took my breath away.

A rather small, and above all narrow, cell, brightly lit, built of rough gray stones, filmed through the cell door made of solid metal bars. Inside, naked and in heavy handcuffs and leg irons – Julia! She was sitting on the bare concrete floor, her eyes closed.

“You realize this is a live feed? That this is happening right here right now in the basement?”

I nodded, my eyes glued to the small screen in front of me.

“The other toy has a bit of a head start in its training. This time, it has the privilege of spending the whole weekend here. And you’re seeing how the thing is going to spend the weekend – from last night until Sunday night. Well, with a few short bathroom breaks, to drink and to stretch. After all, I’m not a monster.”

Petra giggled but immediately became serious again.

“Would you like to spend your weekends like that? Just locked away while I go about my life? Just to give me pleasure when I think about my toy in the basement every now and then?”

I don’t want to lie. I didn’t want to spend every weekend like that. But every now and then? Maybe even most weekends? Yes! At least as long as I felt like I was really making my Mistress happy by doing it. I nodded again.

Unfortunately, Petra put her cell phone away. I would have liked to keep watching for a while longer. After all, it was a glimpse into the future I was hoping for. For a moment, I imagined that Petra would lock me up in Julia’s cell for the rest of the day. My pussy twitched at the thought.

But instead, Petra held a letter up in front of my face.

“Do you understand what this is?”

The letter wasn’t hard to understand. It said “Cost Estimate” in big letters. It listed materials – concrete blocks, a steel door, a recessed light – and installation costs. The total amount exceeded my monthly income.

“That’s how much it would cost to build a second cell like the one you saw. That’s how much it would cost just to accommodate a second toy. And that would only be the beginning. Do you understand what kind of investment a second toy would be?”

I nodded again, but my thoughts kept circling back to Julia in chains in the basement, and I imagined myself in the same situation. I wanted to shout, “Yes, I understand! I want that, too! Pretty please!”

Petra sat back down on the sofa across from me and looked at me thoughtfully for a while.

"I’m willing to make this investment if you prove yourself worthy. I’m even willing to pay up front to give you the best possible start to your training. I may end up spending a lot of money on you. But there’s one thing I want to make crystal clear to you: I’m not your sugar mommy. You’ll get a few things that you’re free to use. You’ll personally benefit from parts of your training. But I’ll only make any expenditures for my own benefit. I won’t pay for your living expenses. Don’t even think about begging me for money. Always keep this in mind: You’re just my toy.”

That was fair, and I would have agreed if my consent had been necessary. But that was just the way it was. I would have been nothing more than a toy. In fact, I actually welcomed that understanding, because otherwise I would have felt more obligated – perhaps even manipulated or bought.

Petra took a deep breath.

“We’re almost done with the formalities. One last thing: your availability.”

I still had plenty of questions, but they were pushed aside by the image of Julia in the bare cell below us. My questions didn’t matter so much anymore. The naked, bound body in the basement had silenced most of my questions. I was both relieved and tense that my orientation seemed to be drawing to a close.

“My expectations regarding your availability are quite simple: as much as possible. I’ve already mentioned the workdays and your training. I expect your full commitment in terms of time and energy. On weekends, I expect you to be available from Friday evening through Sunday evening – at least on most weekends. I’m realistic enough to know that this isn’t possible every weekend. If you know in advance that you won’t be available for the entire weekend, you’ll send me a message by Thursday evening at the latest. Do you understand all of this?”

Of course, I nodded.

“Great, then we can finally get started for real!”