him and with her arms tightly bound behind her back, as a slave.
“This is your slave-collar,” Professor Goss had told her, “it is the symbol of your submission and shows that you are my property. An owned slave. There is no key to release it and you will wear it for the rest of your life.”
Then he had lifted the collar to her throat, pressing the ends together behind her neck and when Paula heard the metallic clicks of its internal locks snapping shut and felt the cold, uncompromising grip and weight of steel against her skin, she had known that her freedom was gone forever.
Intensely aware of familiar, welcome heat coiling in her belly, she had lifted her head and arched her spine to display her body and her submission. “I am your slave, my Master,” she had replied truthfully and sincerely, “and I will wear my slave-collar with all the pride and gratitude and love of a true slave for her Master.”
It was the first time she had ever actually called him, or anyone, “Master”.
It was how she had felt about him.
After fifteen months as his collared slave, her feelings had not changed.
Not surprisingly, Professor Goss’s bombshell proposal of marriage, followed so quickly by the wedding and her collaring as a life-long slave, had driven all thoughts of study out of Paula’s mind and it came as a considerable shock to her to find that her Master had no intention of letting her education go by the board.
As her husband, he was still permitted to teach her along with the other students in his usual lecture-group, but he was not allowed to assess her efforts or grade her course-work or examination results.
Those tasks were given to another Professor in a different college and it was he who judged and marked Paula’s work.
And it really was Paula’s work, because her Master allowed her no special concessions and gave her no more time or assistance than he gave to her fellow students.
Although the incentives he devised for encouraging her were certainly not those used for her class-mates. After all, it would definitely have caused comment and eyebrows to be raised if he had bound them, put them over his knee and spanked their naked bottoms to a flaming red the way he did to Paula when he considered her work to be sub-standard. As would his system of reward-by-climax for her better efforts. It was, however, highly effective and Paula’s grades climbed steadily, until, one year into her slavery, she sat her final examination.
Graduating with the highest mark ever awarded for the compulsory 50,000 word thesis on any aspect of the previous two years’ course-work, beating in the process the former highest scoring thesis on the subject of “Psychological Aspects of Conditioning and Control,” written by a student named…Goss.
Paula’s work was hailed as “ground-breaking”, “insightful”, “intuitive”, and “innovative and perceptive”, and she was thrilled to be offered a five-year contract from the college to work alongside their leading Professor of psychology. Her own husband…
Of course, given her highly-personal experience and profound understanding of the subject to draw on, how could she not have done well with a thesis entitled, “The Stockholm Syndrome – Sexual Politics and the Surrender of Self”.
It was warm in the garden, but Paula was dressed, or perhaps undressed was a more accurate description, for the conditions.
From neck to ankles, she wore a thin, black, crotchless body-stocking so sheer that her breasts and nipples were as clearly visible as if she were totally nude, with a short, extremely tight, black leather corset cinching her waist but leaving her belly and sex exposed between her widely spread thighs.
As always, she had no choice about her displayed body, for before he had left to give his lecture, her Master had laced her arms into a single-glove binder and escorted her out into the garden.
The spot he led her to was one where she had spent many hours
“This is your slave-collar,” Professor Goss had told her, “it is the symbol of your submission and shows that you are my property. An owned slave. There is no key to release it and you will wear it for the rest of your life.”
Then he had lifted the collar to her throat, pressing the ends together behind her neck and when Paula heard the metallic clicks of its internal locks snapping shut and felt the cold, uncompromising grip and weight of steel against her skin, she had known that her freedom was gone forever.
Intensely aware of familiar, welcome heat coiling in her belly, she had lifted her head and arched her spine to display her body and her submission. “I am your slave, my Master,” she had replied truthfully and sincerely, “and I will wear my slave-collar with all the pride and gratitude and love of a true slave for her Master.”
It was the first time she had ever actually called him, or anyone, “Master”.
It was how she had felt about him.
After fifteen months as his collared slave, her feelings had not changed.
Not surprisingly, Professor Goss’s bombshell proposal of marriage, followed so quickly by the wedding and her collaring as a life-long slave, had driven all thoughts of study out of Paula’s mind and it came as a considerable shock to her to find that her Master had no intention of letting her education go by the board.
As her husband, he was still permitted to teach her along with the other students in his usual lecture-group, but he was not allowed to assess her efforts or grade her course-work or examination results.
Those tasks were given to another Professor in a different college and it was he who judged and marked Paula’s work.
And it really was Paula’s work, because her Master allowed her no special concessions and gave her no more time or assistance than he gave to her fellow students.
Although the incentives he devised for encouraging her were certainly not those used for her class-mates. After all, it would definitely have caused comment and eyebrows to be raised if he had bound them, put them over his knee and spanked their naked bottoms to a flaming red the way he did to Paula when he considered her work to be sub-standard. As would his system of reward-by-climax for her better efforts. It was, however, highly effective and Paula’s grades climbed steadily, until, one year into her slavery, she sat her final examination.
Graduating with the highest mark ever awarded for the compulsory 50,000 word thesis on any aspect of the previous two years’ course-work, beating in the process the former highest scoring thesis on the subject of “Psychological Aspects of Conditioning and Control,” written by a student named…Goss.
Paula’s work was hailed as “ground-breaking”, “insightful”, “intuitive”, and “innovative and perceptive”, and she was thrilled to be offered a five-year contract from the college to work alongside their leading Professor of psychology. Her own husband…
Of course, given her highly-personal experience and profound understanding of the subject to draw on, how could she not have done well with a thesis entitled, “The Stockholm Syndrome – Sexual Politics and the Surrender of Self”.
It was warm in the garden, but Paula was dressed, or perhaps undressed was a more accurate description, for the conditions.
From neck to ankles, she wore a thin, black, crotchless body-stocking so sheer that her breasts and nipples were as clearly visible as if she were totally nude, with a short, extremely tight, black leather corset cinching her waist but leaving her belly and sex exposed between her widely spread thighs.
As always, she had no choice about her displayed body, for before he had left to give his lecture, her Master had laced her arms into a single-glove binder and escorted her out into the garden.
The spot he led her to was one where she had spent many hours
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