Chapter 3: Jade

Saturday, September 9, 2023

When I left work Saturday night, it was already dark. The only illumination in the parking lot came from the street lamps and the moon. Since the day I got my driver’s license, I always parked directly under a light. My mom taught me that. A woman never knew who might be lurking around her car at night.

Velma, my coworker for the last year, and Opal, my younger sister, left the library an hour earlier, leaving me to finish final book checks and lock the doors. That was my job as the assistant librarian. And I usually didn’t mind. But today, I was full of nerves. My stomach jittered worse with every step I took toward my car.

Each bounce of my breasts sent a throbbing ache through my body. During my work shift, I’d worn jeans and a blouse with silicone nipple covers because I couldn’t stand to wear a bra. After clocking out, I changed into a black miniskirt with fishnet stockings, a tight red tube top, and no bra or nipple covers. I’d also swapped out my sandals for red pumps. I looked like a hooker.

Instead of driving home, I went to a hotel and parked in one of the guest spots, far from the front doors. This meant a long walk from my car to the lobby. The air grew chillier as summer waned, and my nipples poked through the fabric of my shirt, their shape easily visible until I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked inside the building.

The clerk behind the front desk was a cute dark-haired woman wearing a name tag that said Carol Donovan - Night Manager. One look from her told me exactly what she thought about my presence in her hotel while wearing my outfit. She believed I was there to see a john staying in one of her rooms. And on some level, her hunch was correct. In fact, it was true on every level. Even so, I ignored her gaze and moved onward. The elevator was my destination. I went inside and pressed the button for the penthouse suite on the top row.

The doors closed and reopened on the hotel’s top floor. It had one room on the right and one room on the left. My destination was on the left. I knocked slowly four times on the door, then opened it, knowing it would be unlocked. Barely any light escaped the suite because none of them had been illuminated. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I entered the penthouse.

My nerves weren’t as bad as when I’d come to this penthouse suite a week earlier after receiving a mysterious text.

The suite hadn’t changed at all. It was beautifully decorated, though the decor was not the first thing I noticed once I went inside the suite. And I wasn’t meant to enjoy my surroundings. I was there to pay for my transgressions.

What caught my eye were the blinking red lights attached to cameras set up around the play area. I ignored them and walked to where a masked figure in a well-tailored suit stood in the center of the room. The mask was a white cat face pouting, a large scar on its right cheek, and twin ears standing tall atop its head. The material shone dully. The eyeholes had been cut out, but I could not see the eyes behind them well enough to discern their color.

I knew what I was supposed to do. I got on my knees in front of the masked figure. My heart hammered in my chest, my stomach more knotted than ever. I wanted to cry, to beg this person to let me go, to stop texting me every day, first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

This person, whoever they were, owned me.

My enslavement began almost two weeks previously. I’d received a text from an unknown number telling me we had some things to discuss. Along with the text, I also received a video loop of me having sex with my best friend and lover, Fanny. With my cock. Video proof that I had a penis was very dangerous because my former professor had claimed to the police that I had assaulted and tried to rape him anally with a penis. And when the police had checked me, I’d hidden my penis through powers given to me by somebody I now believed to be a demon.

Like my former girlfriend, Marcy, I could grow a penis at will. Although hers changed from a vagina into a penis, I grew mine just above my vagina. And like my former boyfriend, Kitt, I could change the size of my penis from tiny to ridiculously huge.

It’s complicated soap opera shit.

But now somebody had proof of my ability and could ruin me. While I hadn’t actually tried to rape my professor, I had gotten even with him. He’d asked me to blow him to bump my grade from a B to an A and had been very rough with me when doing so. I wanted to make sure he would never do that to anybody ever again.

Knowing the seriousness of my predicament, I responded to the texts from the unknown number. I was instructed to arrive at a hotel room four days later, on a Friday night. I was told exactly what outfit to buy and wear, when to come, how long I’d be there, and what to do when I first arrived. I was to knock four times, enter without permission, kneel in front of the masked person in a suit, and say, “Your servant is here to please you, Sir.”

Tonight and last Friday, I followed all the instructions. As far as I could tell, the same masked person stood in the center of the room. He wore the same suit, the same mask. I expected I would hear the same creepy voice giving me my orders. Last week, the man’s voice had been muffled by the mask and modified by a speaker in the mouthpiece. I couldn’t hear the normal voice well enough to distinguish anything, though the modified voice came out flat and gender-neutral.

Last week I had been asked to remove my clothing and sit on a chair with my thighs hooked over the arms so my pussy was in full view. I said, “Yes, Sir,” and did what I was asked. I had to say, “Yes, Sir,” every time I was given instructions and never say anything else.

Ever.

My next orders were to make my penis grow. After doing this, I was instructed to finger my pussy while stroking my cock, looking at the camera the entire time. I hesitated before following instructions because I knew this would give my unknown blackmailer more evidence against me. The person in the mask and suit seemed to sense my hesitation because a moment later, a previously blank video screen turned on behind one of the cameras.

Onscreen was the full video of me fucking Fanny. It played from start to finish in rapid motion. As soon as it ended, another video began. The second one starred me and Hannah having lesbian sex in almost the same spot in the library. I understood the message. Either comply or have these videos released. They would not only expose me as a liar but also humiliate Fanny and Hannah. Fanny might not care much, but Hannah’s family was wealthy and highly esteemed in our city. This would be a horrible blow to them.

I tweaked my nipple and earlobe, triggering my penis to grow. Then, I did my best to follow instructions. I jerked off for the camera, eventually bringing myself to orgasm. Most of my cum spilled onto the chair and floor. I was ordered to lick it up with my mouth and swallow it. I did so with tears in my eyes. I hated whoever was behind the mask but refused to break in front of them.

After I finished, the masked figure pointed to the floor in front of him. I returned to my knees and knelt at Sir’s feet.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Sir asked.

I didn’t know if I was supposed to answer truthfully or lie, so I said nothing and stared at the floor. Sir chuckled loudly. I still couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman behind the mask.

“It doesn’t matter if you enjoyed yourself or not. You’re mine for one year. Until the end of September next year. You’ll come to me once a week at first. Then, it will be twice a week. For the first few weeks, we’ll meet here. But eventually, our meetings will be at other places. You will be picked up by car and brought to me.

Wherever I want you, you’ll go. Whatever I ask of you, you’ll do. If you fail me, your videos will be released to the public, school, friends, and family on social media. Don’t bother deleting your social media accounts. I already know all of your friends’ names. If you refuse to comply, you can tell me now. I will send your three videos this instant. What will it be, Jade Seymour? Will you refuse ... or submit?”

It wasn’t much of a choice. Have my entire life imploded or submit to creepy sexual performances for a year?

“I submit,” I said.

“Good,” Sir said. “You’ll be my toy. My plaything. Every time you come to me, you’ll be bound or used in some degrading way. Sometimes, other pets of mine will be with us. Sometimes, it will just be you and me. Your identity will be a guarded secret from other pets. So will theirs. I will film everything we do.

“You probably have several questions, so let me begin answering them. First, I’ll never force you to hurt anyone permanently. Second, I’ll never hurt or mark you permanently. However, I will cause you pain. Third, after your year of service ends, all my records of your actions will disappear. You have my word on that. But if you want a record of what we did, I’ll happily give it to you. Otherwise, you will arrive on time, you will say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ to everything I ask, and then you will leave. If you ever fail to arrive or are more than five minutes late, your life as you know it will forever change. Now I have one more task for you. A daily task...”

Sir removed a small pill bottle from an inside suit coat pocket, then held it in gloved hands a few inches in front of my face. “Take one of these each day before you go to bed.”

I looked at the pills skeptically.

“They won’t hurt you. And I’ll know if you’re not taking them. If you have trouble remembering, set an alarm on your phone.”

“What do they do?” I asked.

“You only say, ‘Yes, Sir!’” Sir barked. “The pills will not hurt you. I already said I would do nothing to hurt you. Just take them, and you’ll see what they do. Now, you may leave.”

I did as I was told. That night, I’d swallowed the first pill and almost gagged on it. Not that it tasted bad; it reminded me of sweetened condensed milk. It was the idea of putting something unknown into my body and not knowing what it would do to me. I ate healthy. I exercised. I tried to get a full night’s sleep regularly. And I didn’t put random crap into my body. After choking down a pill, I took another one out of the bottle and examined it.

The capsule was milky white but didn’t have the same texture as most medicine capsules. It seemed softer. I put the pill back into the bottle and went to bed. I couldn’t fall asleep, so I watched Netflix on my laptop until I passed out.

The following day, my breasts were tender. That wasn’t normal, as I was nowhere near the start of my period. I gave them a gentle squeeze. They were definitely sensitive. I put on a thicker bra and went about my day. I continued taking the pills, going to classes, and told nobody about my situation. I couldn’t risk dragging anybody else into my predicament.

But that wasn’t so easy when it came to Fanny.

She was not just my friend. She was my lover and witness, although she didn’t know what it meant to be my witness. I still didn’t understand everything about it. Our bonding had taken place almost three weeks ago, and our relationship had changed because of it.

Fanny adored me more than ever. She craved me, and I her. Every time I touched her, I sensed her emotions, needs, and mood. She felt mine, too. Somehow, when she’d become my witness, her body had transformed. No matter how big I made cock, she could fit its entire length and girth inside her holes.

But now I was scared to fuck her. What if somebody was recording us? It would be more ammo to use against her. I couldn’t let my best friend get sucked into my mess. I couldn’t risk her life and career. On the Monday after my first session with Sir, I pulled Fanny aside and told her we needed to take our relationship down half a notch.

“Why?” Fanny asked. “Is this because of the group?”

“No,” I answered truthfully. “I just have so much going on, and I struggled last semester to make the grades I needed. Something has to come off my plate, and that something is sex. I am going to see you every day. We will spend time together just like always. But the late-night sex—I can’t do it as often. I need to make sure I keep my grades up.”

“But having me around will help you relax and reduce your stress. Right?”

“I do want you around,” I stressed. “But I can’t commit to anything regular. Not even once a week. But I will do my best.”

“Something is going on. Something you’re not telling me. I can sense it.”

I rolled my eyes. “If there were, I’d tell you.”

We had acknowledged how we could sense each other’s feelings, but we didn’t often pry into those things. For example, I sometimes felt deep guilt inside Fanny, but I had never confronted her to ask what it meant or where it came from. It was her business, not mine. I would be ready to listen when or if she wanted to tell me.

Fanny looked like I’d taken a pin and deflated her. “Okay.”

My tears threatened to well up, but I held my breath until they disappeared. “Fanny, I’m not saying there’s no us or no sex, just ... maybe let me take the steering wheel on when we sleep at each other’s places for now? You’re hard to say no to. We’re so good together.”

Fanny took my hand, and her whirlpool of emotions flooded me. Hurt, flattery, confusion, adoration, heartbreak. And that deep remorse. She didn’t know what to think or say. She didn’t agree with my decision, and she didn’t want to upset me either.

“Okay,” was all she said again. “What about your birthday on Saturday?”

“Oh.” I had forgotten all about my birthday. “I’ll probably head home and celebrate with my family after work.”

“Can I get you a present?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Fanny smiled and hugged me. “I love you, Jade.”

“Okay.” I kissed her on the lips. “I love you, too. Please give me time to figure this all out.”

That conversation had taken place on Monday. My second week of classes had followed. A week of work. A week of study. A week’s worth of white pills causing my breasts to grow sorer by the day to the point where they ached when I walked.

Then came Saturday, my birthday. I was finally nineteen years old, spending the night kneeling on the floor in front of Sir for my second visit to this penthouse suite, wearing my miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and red tube top. I looked like a whore, felt like a slave, and wanted to crawl out of my skin. I had no idea what lay in store for me, but I knew the cameras would record every moment.

“Have you been taking the pills every day?” Sir asked.

I bent my head down. “Yes, Sir.”

Sir stepped around me and said in that flat, synthetic voice, “Your breasts seem larger today. Do they hurt?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Take off your top.”

I pulled the tube top over my head, wincing at the agony caused by the fabric pressing against my B-cups, which now more closely resembled C-cups. My ordinarily soft, firm breasts sat like bolts on my chest. I’d seen women with fake tits, like Robin Wheeler, the woman I’d watched Marcy fuck when I’d snuck into Robin’s house. My breasts suddenly reminded me of hers. Some of my veins were more prominent, and my skin was definitely tighter.