I had run across her article in an on-line dating site. It said, “32 year old girl is unable to control her life through proper decision making. Can you help?”

I thought, what the heck, so I responded and arranged to meet her at a sports bar.

I’m retired military, 50 years old, and single. I live way out in the country in a house I inherited from my parents. It’s a big house on 20 acres of land and has a barn which I have converted to a discipline center. Yes, I’m a dom and, throughout the years, have engaged in the discipline of many younger boys and girls. The buildings are far enough away from the road and my neighbors that no one can hear any of the yelling and crying that goes on.

She told me how she would be dressed and I spotted her as soon as she walked into the bar. She was in an ankle length skirt and frumpy top with little makeup and her hair up in a bun. But, through the overly conservative attire, I could tell that she was a very pretty girl.

Her name was Jill. She told me that she was divorced and had no children. She had been married, in a marriage arranged by her parents, and got divorced because her husband could no longer put up with the way she acted. She felt she needed to be spanked regularly and controlled to settle her down. She did not work and survived on alimony from the divorce.

“That’s a pretty bold statement to make to someone you just met.”

“It’s taken me a long time to accept the truth, but I do now and am not ashamed of it.”

The long and short of my message to her was that, if I was going to take care of her and make her life better, she had to do what she was told. She looked down for a while and then said she would.

We didn’t stay long; I took charge immediately and told her we would go to her house, drop off her car, and she would be staying with me for a while. When we arrived at her house, I told Jill to get her makeup, toiletries, any medicine she was taking, and nothing else. I would be buying her new clothes. She was very obedient and soon we were on the way to my house.

When we got to my house, I sat her in a chair across from me and we started discussing her life in detail. She had been married off, to a man she barely knew, by her parents. He was the owner of the business where her father worked. Soon after the marriage, her father had been promoted and it became obvious that she had been ‘sold’ to her father’s employer in exchange for the promotion.

Her marriage was a disaster from the onset with her spending a lot of time acting out, mainly because she was with someone she didn’t love. Her marriage was sexless with the exception of one time he had forced himself on her right after they got married. She knew her rebellious nature would eventually end with her in jail so she knew she needed to be controlled. Would I do that? Yes.

I took in what she had to say and, when she was done, I laid out the plan for her. I would agree to take care of her and do my best to make her happy. In return, she was under my complete control. She would live the way I wanted her to live, dress the way I wanted her to dress, and have sex with who I wanted her to have sex with. Disobedience would immediately result in corporal punishment.

Jill thought for about five minutes and nodded her head ‘yes’. I told her I needed to hear it from her verbally. She said, “Yes, I agree. I will do what I am told. My life is a disaster while I am in control of it. Something has to change”.

I told her to stand up and remove her clothing. She gasped some, but stood up and slowly removed her shirt and skirt. She stopped undressing then. I let Jill know she was to remove all of her clothing. She started to tear up, but took off her bra; then lowered her panties to her ankles and kicked them off.

Nude, she was beautiful. Perfect skin and solid ‘B’ cup breasts with eraser size nipples that were hard as a rock. She had a ton of pubic hair. I told her that her pussy would be dehaired. She asked if I mean shaved and I told her, no, removed permanently.

I had her kneel in front of me and I’m sure she thought she was destined to give me a blow-job. But, instead, I put a one-inch wide collar around her neck. I tightened it enough where it wouldn’t choke her, but she would always know it was there and who put it there. I locked it in place with a small padlock and pocketed the key.

I lifted her face and kissed her. My tongue pushed through her lips and explored her mouth. It was a long, passionate kiss designed to let her know I owned her. “You are mine now Jill. The collar is your slave collar and is a reminder to you of your status. You will wear it all the time, except for showers and baths. Do you understand”?

She began crying and lifted up to hold me tight. Through the sobbing, she said, “I hope you are telling me the truth because, if you are, you are exactly what I need.”

Nude, we slept together that night. She asked me if we were going to have sex and I told her, “No, you have to earn that”. With that, she dozed off. As always, my one year old Black Lab, Joey, slept at the bottom of the bed. She had never had a pet before, so this was another new thing for her. She soon became friends with Joey though and they played together often, like two kids, or she would sit in the couch with his head on her lap as she rubbed his ears.

The next morning, I let her sleep in and made her an appointment at the local depilatory spa. When she got up, I told her to make breakfast for us, which she did. While we were eating, I told her that she would be losing all of her hair below the waist.

I waited in the lobby for Jill as she got her first laser treatment. When it was done, the technician called me in to show me how to do the post-treatment care. Jill was nude, laying on a recliner. Her under arms, legs, and crotch were an angry red, almost like a sunburn. The technician informed me that Jill’s underarm and leg hair would probably not grow back, but her pubic area would require one or two more treatments to make her permanently devoid of pussy hair. She had also been bent over and had the hair between her bottom cheeks treated, so she was pretty sore there also. When done, she would be as hairless as the day she was born.

The technician gave Jill a robe to wear as her clothes were too tight and we headed home. Once back at the house, I took Jill’s robe away from her and let her stretch out on a recliner in the living room. I used the salve we had gotten at the spa to soothe the fire on her skin, which she appreciated.

It did take two more treatments over the next four days, but eventually Jill was hairless, with no hint that any hair had ever been there, and all of the burning had healed up. Even though she had worried in the beginning, she ended up submitting to her new look. One of the side benefits for her is that it made her horny constantly. Without hair to cover her clitoris, every time her thighs moved, her little nub was rubbed, causing intense sexual stimulation. Often, she found her own juices running down her legs when she walked. I told her that, soon, we would be expanding her sexuality.

She had been very good throughout her treatments and, so, I rewarded her by beginning to have sex with her. It was wonderful for both of us. I did find her a little inexperienced though. She knew about oral sex, but, for her, it was mostly licking and not sucking and she had never had a man cum in her mouth or swallowed. I introduced her to both on our first night. We also visited a local OB/GYN and got Jill hooked up with birth control pills; I didn’t want her pregnant until I was ready for her to be pregnant. It became a morning ritual of ours for me to supervise her taking her pill. More and more, I was taking away her ability to handle her own matters, which is what she needed.

The days afterwards brought two major events to Jill’s life. One was her new wardrobe. I took her to a popular, local, dress shop frequented by the college crowd. Once there, I showed her a classic summer sundress and told her she was to pick out a half dozen in different colors and take them to the dressing room to try on for me. They were to fit her shape snugly, come down to the top of her boobs, and be no longer than mid-thigh. She modeled them for me with no underwear. She tried each on and I only had to reject two out of the six and send her back to replace them with ones that fit better.

The second was the beginning of Jill getting periodic spankings to keep her aimed in the right direction. When I first told her about them, she said that, if her ex-husband had kept control of her in that way, she might still be married. She knew she needed that control in her life.

That night, we went out to the barn; it was her first time there. She walked from the house to the barn, about 200 feet, nude. There was no problem with that since my nearest neighbor was about 1/2 mile away. I had leashed her for the walk; it was important to emphasize her submissiveness to her.

When I turned on the light in the barn, she gasped. The spanking bench was the prominent piece of furniture in the room. Designed to hold the spankee, laying on her belly, bent over at a 90 degree angle, with their bottom waist high to the spanker, there was no doubt to its purpose.

A slight jerk on the leash got Jill moving towards the spanking bench. Once there, I ordered her to lay on the bench with her hips at the highest point; that’s when she started shaking in fear.

I spread her feet apart and velcro’d them to stirrups set about three feet apart. Next were straps to spread and restrain her legs, just above the knees. A large strap across her waist and her butt could wiggle slightly, but not get out of the way of what was going to happen to it.