I slowly came to my senses in the car that was bringing me back to my Dominatrix Mistress.
I arrived at my Mistress’s place at 8 p.m., the time when I was supposed to simply give my answer. My desire to show my motivation by responding early had only accelerated my downfall.
Kneeling Before My Dominatrix Mistress Again
I was naked, equipped with a cage, a plug, and weights on my testicles. Collars and cuffs were my new garments—the kind you don’t take off, leaving you even more exposed.
Kneeling before my Dominatrix Mistress, my body, covered in marks from countless blows, looked like a mosaic.
My eyes were lowered.
“Mistress Noémie took good care of you, I see. Now you’ll know that you must obey, and only obey. Anticipating, altering, or preempting orders isn’t obedience.”
She was seated in an armchair, as upright as always. No empathy, no aggression—just stating obvious truths.
“She did say, however, that your behavior was exemplary. That’s a good thing. Inflicting pain isn’t a pleasure. Of course, it happens that a dominatrix might take it out on her dog for fun, but that’s not the main goal. Pain accompanies training because a submissive’s brain is largely in their balls—it’s one of the most effective methods to train them. Like an animal, for whom the reward becomes the pleasure of serving the Woman.”
Explanation of My Training Over the Next Six Weeks
She looked at me, and I felt her eyes pierce my soul. Under that gaze, her voice became the only thing in the universe reaching me.
“Soon, you’ll no longer think for yourself. Your dehumanization has already begun. You won’t become an animal, though you’ll exhibit some animal behaviors—you’ll simply be a sentient thing. As a Category E, all that’s expected of you is perfect obedience and true excellence in a limited number of tasks, limited because you are limited. During the six weeks you’ll spend with me, you’ll learn the basics and forget the rest of your life—your thoughts, habits, desires, and dreams. Your entire being—body, senses, mind, and soul—will be wholly devoted to your Dominatrix Mistress.”
She paused, as if letting each word settle into my brain. I absorbed her words, neither happy nor unhappy, as if they were meant for what I wasn’t yet. Yet I was convinced her words were the perfect reality of a simple, sparkling world I’d just entered—still clumsy and awkward, surrounded by crystal and porcelain.
“Your submissive desires are obsolete. I’m sure you realize that now. Perhaps you dreamed of this moment, imagining licking women’s offered sexes all day or being taken by dildos or who-knows-what. That might happen, or it might not. It’s all meaningless. Your entire being must accept, integrate, and digest that every order is your desire. That word itself will eventually lose meaning for you. Like pleasure. The only pleasure is that of the Mistress. Yours no longer matters.”
Details About the Circle, Which I Now Belong to as a Submissive
Another pause, a silence, then she continued with what awaited me.
“I will be your Mistress. But you should know I’m not alone. You’ve met Mistress Noémie, who often handles small punishments.”
The word “small” made me flinch; she gave a faint smile but continued.
“We belong to the Circle. The Circle assigns a number to every submissive who joins, temporarily or permanently. This Circle consists of many dominant women who live only by the principles of Gynarchy, and a vast, vast number of submissives.
You belong to the Circle, so all these women are your Mistresses. In absolute terms, every woman is superior to you, thus your Mistress; every man is superior to you, thus your Master; every submissive, except Categories F and E, is superior to you, thus your Master too. I advise you to always assume the person in front of you is superior—it’ll be simpler for you and true in 99.9% of cases.
I’ve entered all the important details about you into the Circle’s database and stored your identity papers in the Circle’s safe. Your number will be your new identity. It’ll soon be tattooed on you, and we’ll implant a chip under your skin with your basic information and a GPS chip to track you. The chip can be read by a simple smartphone app developed by the Circle. It allows users to see nearby submissives and access basic info about them—photo, age, category, skills, availability, experience. We’ll also fit you with a discreet but permanent titanium collar and an equally permanent earring, making it easier for a dominatrix to spot you in the street.”
In “Phase Zero” in the Circle’s Database!
She continued:
“In this database, you’re in ‘Phase Zero.’ That means you’re currently useless but exist. When you reach ‘Phase One,’ it’ll mean you’ve started your training and mastered the basics—likely in a few months. In ‘Phase Two,’ you’ll be operational in at least three ‘skills,’ like cleaning, ass-licking, or foot massage. That’ll take a full year, maybe two. In ‘Phase Three,’ you’ll master all the skills expected of you—count another two to three years for that.
In ‘Phase Four,’ you’ll no longer be able to serve properly in most skills but might still function as a urinal, for instance—expect that in about ten years, depending on what you’ve endured. In ‘Phase Five,’ you’re in a nursing home or hospice. In ‘Phase Six,’ you’re gone, erased from the database upon receipt of your death certificate.
I’ll serve for about ten years. Roughly. Serve. My whole life now fits into that word and nothing else. And I feel no rebellion, no doubt, no anger. I enter Gynarchy like one enters a religion, with intense faith behind which my entire being fades.”
Continuation of the List of Skills I Must Acquire
“Good. There’s plenty of demand for cleaning, ass-licking, and blowjobs. I struggle to understand all these dominants who enjoy having their Category A submissives sucked off, but that’s how it is. We’ll prioritize those skills. Since I’m bold and enjoy it, I’ll add urinal duty. That makes four qualifications. For your information, Category E submissives must perfectly master all body massages or licking (men, women, other genders, pets, or higher-category submissives), regardless of dirtiness, smell, age, or appearance, of course; the ability to suck (and bring to orgasm) any male penis—man, submissive, or pet; the ability to be penetrated by any object or penis up to 8 cm in diameter (animals included); the ability to serve as a urinal for any human; the ability to hand-wash delicate clothes or linens, iron perfectly, clean an entire house impeccably from floor to windows, serve at the table or during receptions, clean dishes, silverware, and other tricky items, clean any type of car perfectly, and serve as furniture (footrest, coat rack, coffee table, stool, lampstand…).
It’ll take you a long time to master all this, but you’ll get there… otherwise, the Circle doesn’t grant freedom. We have agreements with organizations in other countries, and you’ll be sold off to serve as a slave under, let’s say, harsher conditions.”
Start of My Training Under My Dominatrix Mistress’s Orders
Silence again. I felt every word, every intonation, like my oxygen.
“Good. You’ll start with the tiled hallway. Toothbrush, no hands. A bucket of slightly soapy water and a rag you’ll learn to wring out with your mouth. Follow me.”
I crawled after my Dominatrix Mistress and soon found myself with my hands tied behind my back, facing a toothbrush, a bucket of water, and a small rag at the end of her hallway. The tiles sparkled, and I doubted there was much dirt.
“Start in that corner, tile by tile, don’t forget the baseboards. Take the rag, wet it, wring it out, dampen the tile, then take the toothbrush and scrub. Scrub hard! Then take the rag again, rinse it, wring it, and wipe the tile clean. I’ll check later.”
I couldn’t see how I’d wring the rag without hands, but I tried, obeying, the blows from Mistress Noémie still aching.
I took the rag in my mouth—dirty and foul-smelling—and dipped it in the water. Pulling it out, I bit down, the disgusting juice dripping into my mouth, then shifted it slightly with my tongue and repeated. It took me a full fifteen minutes just to wring the rag. I dampened the tile, dragging the rag with my mouth, then gripped the toothbrush between my teeth and struggled to scrub. Despite everything, a little grayish juice seemed to form—maybe the floor wasn’t so clean, or was it the rag’s filth? Time passed, and my only awareness came from the cramps in my mouth.
Inspection of My Work by My Dominatrix Mistress
My Mistress returned after what felt like an eternity. I’d “cleaned” three tiles and their baseboards.
“I’m letting you go very slowly today since it’s your first day, but you’ll need to speed up significantly and not skimp on quality! Keep going! It’s 8 p.m.—there’s a clock there. Stop at midnight. I’ve put an old blanket and a pillow in that corner for you to sleep. I’ll wake you.”
I hadn’t stopped and panicked at the thought of continuing for another four hours… obey.
So, I did eight more tiles before collapsing, exhausted, my mouth full of threads and grime. I fell asleep quickly despite my tied hands and all the restraints, which were becoming part of my body.
Whip Awakening…
My Mistress appeared in a classy, radiant nightgown.
She brought me a small bowl with a little pile of cereal and set it in front of me. Then, crouching gracefully after lifting her gown, she urinated on my cereal. Standing back up, she tossed out, “Clean.”
I rose to my knees to lick her hairless sex and clean it. My cock stirred too, restrained… but happy. I finally knew the softness of her sex.
Used as a Stool by My Dominatrix Mistress
“Eat, leave nothing, and get back to work. It’s 7 a.m.—you slept a lot, but that won’t last. Keep going until noon. This afternoon, we’ll get you tattooed and fitted with the chip, collar, and earring. Then we’ll resume your training. Try to go faster this morning, or I’ll have to help you.”
I knew instinctively that her “help” would hurt, so I approached the bowl of piss-soaked cereal. I ate it without disgust or pleasure and licked the bowl spotless. Then I resumed cleaning, tasting the even fouler rag again.
By noon, 20 tiles remained—I should’ve finished—so I received 20 whip lashes, reopening small wounds Mistress Noémie had left as souvenirs.
My Dominatrix Mistress untied me and used me as a stool while she ate. She hosed me down with cold water in the shower, then gave me back my sweater, pants, and shoes. Then we left on foot.
To be continued…
