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“Alright,” she said in a calm, even tone, “I’ll explain this to you once, and only once…”

Of course, she commanded your full attention, her soft, beautiful sweater being that trigger that makes your mind cloudy, your willpower weak and your pathetic twig of a dicklet begin to stiffen.

“You can either be my dutiful, hardworking, obedient slave, or you can get out of my sight and never come back- your choice- but you’ll make it now. And if you choose to be my slave, it’s the last free choice you’ll ever get without my permission. Believe me boy, I am very strict and very demanding, and I will not tolerate laziness or disrespect. Poor behavior will be dealt with harshly and without mercy. Do you understand what I’m saying boy?”

You nodded, mesmerized, your “choice” made the minute you first laid eyes on her. You blushed and sunk down to the ground, crawling to her on all fours, stopping with your head between her knees. She reached forward and stroked your hair. “Good boy,” she cooed, “I knew you’d choose to submit, but I needed it to be your choice, and now that it’s made, you’re mine.”