The whole time, basically, I have had fears of poop coming out.

Brett played with the salad in front of him and smiled at his girlfriend Melissa. He looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh at her hushed admission. They had been together for eight months and, for the most part, things were going really well in their relationship. After meeting on an alternative lifestyles Web Site they immediately hit it off and met for a date a few weeks later. The date ended with the dark haired slave referring to him as “Sir”and spending the weekend beginning the path to complete enslavement.

Melissa smiled back and looked down at her own meal. The curvy, full figured, slave was glad that she had admitted her feelings to him. He had taught her to choose her words carefully, and to speak only when spoken to when in his presence, but to also speak her mind if she felt it was required. She knew when it was appropriate; from early on in their relationship Brett had begun to train her with ball gags to only open her mouth at allowed moments. Melissa gladly wore the gag; she made it clear to her Master that they turned her on and he wisely chose to implement them in the process of her behavior modification.

From the moment Brett had seen Melissa's beautiful hazel eyes and full figure across the room on their first date he had fallen in love with her. That night after dinner, and a walk on the boardwalk, he dominated her for the first time and announced that she would be staying the weekend to begin being trained. The busty, raven haired, slave acquiesced without a hint of resistance and, in fact, encouraged him to not comprise or relent with her even in those early hours and days.

The first night he began to lay down some ground rules which Melissa cheerfully and passively accepted. Both of them realized as they lay in bed the first night that they had found their perfect mate. Before their chance meeting online, neither had been having much luck finding a mate. Brett wanted a real time relationship that existed twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, not just in the bedroom or for some mundane kink or game. He was strict and handed out cruel punishment for disobedience. He was also gentle, encouraging and very caring to his property.

Brett also had begun to modify her appearance to his liking. His slave got her nails done each week and adhered to a strict dress and behavior code. With his permission, she cut her work week by one day so she could be home more. Melissa was a feminist, a pretty radical one, and Brett shared her views, but they both agreed they would try their best to allow her to be a stay at home wife in the future.

Melissa also had a strong desire for a real time relationship. Like her Master she tired of games and asinine “role playing” with men who weren't worthy. Role playing, both Master and slave believed, was for posers and corny people. She scoffed at the hilarious “Masters” she found on Internet sites who played the role of the bad ass Dominant while having no experience or any desire for a relationship that did not allow them to refer to her as a slut or cunt. The slave wanted a real man, who believed as she did and wanted to protect, dominate, and love her for eternity. Given the unpleasant political situation these days, Melissa found it important to find a strong man to love and care for her. She did not want to retreat to her room like Clarissa Dalloway, for example, but she did long for strong masculine protection from the more disgusting aspects of the public sphere.

For them, a Master/slave relationship was the only way each truly felt alive. They fed off of each other and, shortly after that first weekend of training, moved into the house which Brett had inherited from his grandfather after he passed away the year before. The two story home was a little more than they needed but free was free and with the economy the way it was there was no use in complaining. They could always sell it when the market turned upward again.

As good as their relationship was going, recently Melissa had been hesitant and had second thoughts about a few things. Brett had no problem with that. He only wanted her to do things she was comfortable doing. He loved her and wanted to own her for the rest of their lives. If Melissa had a problem or concern her Master would help her through it via discipline, training, and, most importantly, love.

At the same time, however, Brett secretly wished she would become less indecisive about some things. He would wait for her as long as he had to, but he longed for her to make up her mind. Luckily, through his best friend Chip Witwicky, Brett had found a way to expedite his slave's decision process. When they arrived at home after dinner the first step would be implemented.

Brett and Melissa were almost finished with their meals when the conversation turned to Melissa's indecisiveness about anal sex. Her Master did not demand anal sex, the thought of forcing something like that upon his precious slave repulsed him, but he did want that hole available. Melissa, who Brett learned quickly was already quite experienced with many forms of carnal relations, had been very hesitant to submit to anal sex. She was sure, done properly, it would be quite pleasurable, but the dark haired slave always chickened out whenever the act came up.

“I can't stop thinking,” Melissa whispered across the table, “'this is where poop comes out, oh my god, this is where poop comes out!'”

Both Master and slave laughed, quickly looking around, hoping no one had heard her hushed outburst. After staring at her stunning smile for a moment, Brett pulled a pen out of his blazer pocket and wrote I am going to fuck your ass on the top of her menu. She blushed and put her hands on top of his. A curl of wavy black hair bounced down in front of her nose.

Melissa sighed. Her right hand brushed the curl out of her face and returned to where it previously was with a squeeze. “Brett, I love you, but I am not sure about this.” She lowered her eyes submissively. Brett would wait for her, his patience with her was one of the reasons she loved him so much, but her indecision was not in line with the ideals about slavery that she held and prided herself on. “I want to give myself completely, literally, but I need more time.”

Brett squeezed her hands tightly but suddenly pulled away to motion to their waitress for the bill. When the pretty teenage waitress came over and placed the bill on the table, Brett put his credit card under the clasp of the bill and handed it back to the young woman. For a long moment he looked away, frowned, and then smiled at this slave. “Honestly, there is no rush. We can talk about this another time.” He pointed to their car outside. “Let's go home.”

They gathered their coats and proceeded to the front of the restaurant so Brett could collect his receipt. Melissa took a mint from the counter. Brett walked to the other side of the restaurant to thank their waitress and informed her of where the generous tip he had left was placed on the table. The check from his teaching job had been direct deposited that day so he felt giving a little extra would be fruitful since they patronized this restaurant often. Brett took care of all their finances; in fact, he planned to discontinue Melissa's personal bank account if and when they get married. This was her idea, part of her idealized vision of a slave's submission to their Master.

Outside, Melissa drew her jacket closer as the January wind made her shiver. The grey, ankle length, skirt she was wearing blew in the wind as they walked, the black knee high boots on her feet's two inch heel, a little lower than what she normally wore, crunched a leftover leaf from the fall underneath her. The curves of her 220 pound body, which were plentiful, hugged her outfit, which concluded with a sweater the same color as her boots.

Brett buttoned his blazer and pulled his jacket tighter as he let her in on the passenger side and then crossed behind the car to get into the driver's seat. Melissa adored Brett's insistence on opening the passenger door for her first. Since she was a teenager she had longed for a man to do that after seeing it in a movie. Her Master switched on the ignition and let the heat run for a minute. He leaned over and kissed his property's nose, poking her DD breasts playfully with his finger, which made her giggle.

The full figured slave adoringly stared at her Master. Warm air had begun to come out of the vents. She watched a few couples walk out of the restaurant and pass their car. Brett ran his hands through her hair, “I love you so much, Master,” she quietly purred, and moved forward, adjusting to his touch.

Melissa's Master pulled out of his parking space and proceeded into highway traffic. The trip south on the highway and back to their neighborhood would take about ten minutes. Melissa sat silently with her hands folded on her lap. She had been trained to not speak or move while in the car unless directly addressed. While waiting for the red light before their exit to change colors she had a strong urge to reach over, unzip her Master's pants, and stroke his cock. Like the well behaved girl she was, however, since she had met Brett she was no longer a bad girl, her hands remained where they were.

Melissa was eager to get inside once they arrived in their driveway. When they got inside, Brett would take her to their bedroom and announce how she would obey him for the rest of the evening. The young lovers quietly put away their coats and carried their shoes up the stairs. The dark haired slave knelt at the bottom of the bed, lowered her eyes, and thanked Brett for a wonderful evening. She also thanked him for allowing her into his home, for controlling her wardrobe and routine, and for the gradual taking over of her finances currently in progress.

Brett's slave kept her eyes focused on the floor. The pale hands of his property, palms down, were placed on her knees at the point where her skirt ended. She breathed slowly and tried to remain as still as possible. Brett would not punish her if Melissa did not remain in this beautiful, statuesque, position but for the girl moving out of place was unacceptable.

This was how he wanted her and to not adhere made her shudder with disgust. She loved him so much and wanted to submit completely without question or hesitation. It pained her to have second thoughts about any instruction he gave her. Brett had come home from work on more than one occasion to find her sitting on the floor, reduced to tears, because she had not perfectly complied with his command.

He knew that she wanted to comply perfectly, but Melissa was only human. Nevertheless, it just was not right. As he eyed the package laying on top of his laptop on the corner desk he smiled; now he had the means to take things into his own hands.

While having dinner with his best friend Chip Witwicky a month ago, Brett mentioned Melissa's problems. They had been best friends since high school and met for dinner a few times a month. While in school both had planned on going into teaching, which Brett did, but Chip's work with computers brought him to a secretive government organization working on new technology for the so-called “war on terror.” Since 9-11, there were numerous organizations working in secret on a variety of projects for the country. Chip never talked about it much; besides not being allowed to, he did not like bringing his work home with him.

What Chip was currently working on involved mind control. The program he created put a captive into an extremely suggestible state which allowed interrogators to obtain information from them. There were preliminary plans being drawn up to begin using it to place spies deep in other governments by reprogramming them with new personalities and backgrounds. So far there had been few errors. His superiors even allowed Chip the opportunity to retrain his fiance to be his docile, obedient, slave. He wasn't the only one; at this year's holiday party there were a number of very compliant wives and girlfriends in attendance.

The mind control program was Chip's baby. His work on subliminals was proving to be revolutionary. He knew he could trust Brett to be his confidant in these matters. Besides, he deserved a more obedient girlfriend and Melissa deserved the ability to give herself completely to him. She was nice and all, but she'd be much nicer once reprogrammed. The program was going strong and his superiors would be thrilled to have another test subject.

After reassuring his best friend that Melissa would be safe and discussing Brett's specific needs Chip began to create a personalized program for her. Once completed all he had to do was upload her personal scripts to the template which had been created for initial programming sessions. After having an assistant perform a dry run of the script on a homeless woman from a city favorable to the current administration, the program was delivered by an undercover agent posing as a delivery man. The program was kept on a flash drive. A PDF came with it informing the user how to use the program. All they had to do was upload a series of mp3 or flac files into it. Once uploaded, duplicates of each track would be created with the subliminals inside.

The PDF also offered proven methods for making the switch without hassle. Brett chose to use a live show from Melissa's favorite band he downloaded from a fan site on the Internet. After sending them to Chip he waited impatiently for the package to arrive. Today he had come home from work to find it waiting for him. Even on days when he stayed late he could still be home by 3:30 in the afternoon, easily beating Melissa by at least two hours.

After installing the program on a spare desktop box he was experimenting with Fedora Linux on he dragged the files into Melissa's folder via their shared network. The first thing Melissa did when she came in from work was plug in her mp3 player so it could recharge and add newly downloaded podcasts and any files added to their shared folder. The new songs would load onto her player without her even realizing; she never even glanced at the program screen when it popped up.

When they got home from dinner he would surprise her with the new live show. Before bed, he would insist she listen to it. If all went according to plan, he would see the results the next morning.

Melissa knelt silently with her eyes closed. The slave knew not to speak unless spoken to by her Master. Her breasts gently heaved up and down as she breathed. Any other movement was disobedience; to Melissa, disobedience was unacceptable. The full figured girl slid a little forward so she could unbuckle her Master's pants. They dropped to the floor and she wiggled them out from under his feet. After tossing them into the laundry hamper on the side of their bedroom, she began to slowly stroke his cock.

Pleasuring men with her mouth was one of Melissa's favorite activities. Sometimes she wished that she only had to open her mouth to put Brett's cock into it. She loved the feel in her mouth and what her mannerisms, movements, and touches could do to it. She always swallowed her finished. Swallowing cum, in her eyes, was a reassurance that she did it right.

Brett's slave kissed the side of his left ankle and rubbed her head against it. Slowly, she looked up at him and smiled; her hazel eyes shining in the light. “This is my favorite part of the night, when I can show you how much I appreciate you, Master.”

Leaving kisses up and down them, Melissa slightly spread her owner's legs apart and leaned forward to clench his gray boxer shorts in her teeth and pull them down. Despite the fact that she sometimes struggled with this it was had become part of their nightly ritual. With a pair of her Master's underwear at her feet Mellisa looked back up at him and, upon making eye contact with each other, he moved his feet upward so she could slide his underwear from below his feet. Melissa pouted mentally at the slight pain in her mouth from dragging the underwear with her teeth but any pain was blocked by her excitement at what was going in her mouth next.

The visual of Melissa pulling his shorts down with her teeth made Brett's cock rock hard. He turned on the bed, slid back to where the pillows were, and leaned back. Melissa crawled up on the bed slowly, got on all fours, and glided over to him like a cat. She knelt down and wrapped her lips around his cock, sliding it in and out a few times. Melissa gave it a few licks and began bobbing up and down on it. At first she moved quickly but then slowed down so it could stay in her mouth longer. She wanted the moment to last as long as possible.

In and out of her mouth his cock went. At one point she stopped and just stared at it, admiring the hardness and cum dripping down his shaft. Melissa touched the shaft with a finger, giggling at her Master's shudder. With his cock back in her mouth, she ran her lips up and down a few more times slowly in an attempt to gauge whether he was close to cumming or not. She ran her tongue over the shaft and rubbed the base of it with her thumb. Brett was going to cum soon so she sucked harder and began to bob up and down, sucking faster and faster until he let out a moan and came in her mouth.

After both were clean, Melissa knelt in front of her owner and, letting out a gentle purr, ran her face against his leg. She looked up at him adoringly and whispered, “Master, how may I further serve you?,” and smiled. Her beautiful green eyes lit up when she smiled; she was so happy and content.

Brett touched her shoulder, “sit down on the bed,” and motioned for her to rise. Obediently she sat down on the bed beside him.

Brett told her about the music files he had gotten for her. He told her that it was going to be a surprise, but she had been such a good girl that she earned the right to listen to it now. Melissa glowed, so happy to have a Master who considered her interests, and hugged him tightly. He ran his hands through her hair, got up and picked up her MP3 player off of her desk and handed it to her.

Gently he kissed her forehead and nodded towards their pillows. “Get in bed.”

Quietly Mellisa obeyed and crawled under the covers. As part of their nightly ritual she slid her panties off and kicked them out from under the covers onto the floor. Brett wanted to be able to admire her ample curves at his leisure while in bed. At first his slave had been a bit uncomfortable sleeping in the nude but, eventually, she had grown to enjoy the way her ample body felt against the sheets.

Brett got under the sheets with her and pulled her tightly into his arms. “Why don't you listen to it before bed? I need to finish some reading for my graduate class, so you listen to it and then we'll go to sleep.”

Melissa kissed his mouth gently and then bit his nose just as softly. “Thank you Master, I live only to serve you.”

She leaned her head forward so Brett could place the headphones on her head. Pushing play on the screen, she leaned back and secretly slid a finger inside herself under the covers. The live gig was great and the band sounded awesome. After about five minutes or so Brett noticed her eyes getting glassier. After ten minutes her head tilted to the side and she fell forward a little, staring emptily at the floor. Pleased with the results he went back to his book after noticing there were still ten more tracks left to play.

The first four tracks were intended to put her into a trance where she would be highly suggestible. The remaining ten would begin to program her with the messages Brett had told Chip to add. Each would repeat three times over the nine tracks to further reinforce it. The tracks would play the subliminal message repeatedly until completed and then the next would begin.

Melissa stared at nothing as her values and beliefs were reprogrammed. “Anal sex is wonderful...you love receiving anal sex...your Master loves to fuck your ass, which means you love to receive his cock in your ass...pleasing him is your only purpose therefore you will enjoy it immensely because you be pleasing him more and more...”

A background track commanded her to begin masturbating. Brett knew about her under the cover escapades. He did not mind, she once admitted to him she used to pleasure herself as a means of relaxing at night, so taking advantage of her naughty behavior seemed like a good idea. “Brett is your Master...you as his slave...these roles are non-negotiable...you exist to please your Master...Brett is your Master...when you obey him, it pleases him, which makes you happy...”

Brett watched his slave as her impressive chest rose and fell with every slow breath. He loved her so much; all he wanted in life was for her to find happiness and fulfillment. Being his slave, both had rationalized, would bring her, and him, that happiness. “Any inhibitions you have about surrendering completely to your Master are silly and counter productive...your doubts are understandable but you know they are stupid...you need to get over them...doing this will further help you to serve your Master...you will not have any doubts or indecision about any aspect of your service...”

The final track commanded her to cum and fall asleep. As quietly as possible for someone being brainwashed Melissa fell backwards onto her pillow and, moaning softly, fell asleep a few moments later. Brett put down his book and pulled the headphones off of her head, tucked both of them in, and wrapped his arms around her upper body. The next few days would be some of the best of their young lives.