Ash floated in bliss. They had no awareness of what was around them, only the pleasurable vacancy that was their mind, empty of thoughts. True, they were dimly aware of words being stored up in their mind. But these didn’t matter, and as the words dripped into their head, Ash’s world was so small they couldn’t even remember who was speaking the words. In fact, remembering anything wasn’t an option. Much more important to enjoy the bliss and emptiness that was their world.

Ash dimly felt hands on their chest, cupping breasts still sensitive, freshly developed - and highly charged. Whoever’s fingers were playing with them knew what they enjoyed and knew how to make Ash enjoy it too. For all that their chest was often too sensitive, all that came through to Ash’s blissful world was the whimpering pleasure and need of a body being toyed with and teased.

The words filling Ash’s thoughtless mind were coming more frequently with this change. They seemed more urgent, too, and that made them more important. Ash knew they should try to pay attention to them, but it wasn’t happening; they couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. Could only hear. Hear and obey.

One hand departed from Ash’s chest and swept their hair back over their left shoulder, started tracing the curve of their neck. The words shaped a question, and without awareness of the question or her answer, Ash suddenly knew they had spoken in response. Not spoken for long. Short, simple answer. And as Ash spoke, they felt lips on the curve of their neck, gentle kisses, exploring, setting their sensitive skin thrumming with energy, excitement, and arousal. Ash’s body was supercharged, desiring, horny, needy.

Another question was asked, and as Ash answered, the lips returned again and the hand on their breast gently squeezed. Ash’s closed perception was now wide enough to register their body’s delight, but still constrained within their skin. Ash had the sensation of being pinned down and changed. But what from? They couldn’t remember their past, couldn’t predict their future. Only the present mattered.

Whoever was toying with Ash continued to ask questions, continued to tease their body in reward for simple, rote, response answers. Ash became aware of their rote answers before the questions:

“I obey.”

“I want to obey.”

“Obedience brings pleasure.”

“Your pleasure makes me hot.”

“I want to please you. I want to be turned on.”

“I want to be turned on. I want to feel sexy.”

“I feel sexy when I obey.”

“I obey you.”

“I want to obey you.”

“I obey only you.”

“You have control.”

“I am in your power.”

“I must obey you.”

“I want to obey you. Obedience brings pleasure.”

“I want to feel sexy. I obey to feel sexy.”

“Feeling sexy makes me obey.”

“I do not resist.”

“I do not want to resist.”

“I will not resist.”

“I cannot resist.”

“You have control.”

“I am in your power.”

“I must obey you. I cannot resist.”

“I obey you because I belong to you.”

Ash realised they were rock hard. Why was it so good to be saying these things? Why were they so turned on? And where were they getting these answers from?

Who were they even talking to?

Another sound echoed in Ash’s ear. A sharp, crisp click, as if someone had snapped their fingers.

Reality snapped back into place as Ash opened their eyes. They were standing outside their car, in their garage, their shopping bags untended, waiting for collection. And standing behind them with an arm wrapped around their body as possessively as if they owned Ash (which they did) was Master. Master, Ash vaguely understood, had once had another name, had been nothing more than a friend they vaguely knew, someone you’d chat to over drinks at the pub, but not now. Now he was Master, and Ash belonged to him.

His hand turned Ash around, and their glazed eyes met his, saw the smirk, the satisfaction. Ash was in his power. Ash knew they must obey him, that they could not resist. Ash obeyed him because Ash belonged to him.

Master cupped Ash’s chin, tilting their head down so Master could meet their taller slave’s gaze, a surprisingly tender moment that was also a clear affirmation of ownership.

“Kiss me,” he said. Ash’s thoughts, which had been collecting properly and attempting to take stock of their situation, immediately dissolved into the need to obey. They leaned forward and down, lips parting, as Master’s hand slid from their chin to their cheek. His mouth opened wide to receive her, the kiss gentle, slow. After a couple of moments, Ash heard a soft growl of pleasure. They almost stiffened into their programmed response (His pleasure makes me hot) but the kiss so clearly wasn’t finished. A deep breath sealed their commitment to the kiss, and Master pulled their body close against him as they did.

Ash braced, suddenly very conscious of her erection pressing against him. The kiss broke, and Master pulled back his head and looked into their eyes, searching, surprised. Then he smirked slightly. “Really?” he asked quietly.

Ash wasn’t sure what that meant. They were going entirely on the tone in Master’s voice, which was amused, surprised, but not angry. They nodded.

Master tilted his head to one side, and laughed. “I’m not as observant as I think,” he said, and then shook his head, laughing again. “On the other hand, you know… we’ll make this work.” He looked Ash in the eye and grinned. They felt a weight lift off their shoulder, automatically, instinctively.

Master had made a decision, and it was a positive. It was going to be alright. Master might not have known their truth, but it didn’t scare or anger him. Nor was it the reason Master had decided Ash belonged to him.

Master was, now, digging in his jacket. With a smirk and a gesture of triumph, he produced a small cloth bag, and handed it to Ash. “Open it. Take out the contents.”

More orders. Ash had been on the verge of wondering what was in the bag, but the thought hadn’t finished forming when a command replaced it. When Ash had orders to follow, they did not think. They did not hesitate. They obeyed, and they took great pleasure in their obedience. It felt… right. It felt good. So good, honestly, it almost felt sinful.

But how could something so natural be sinful?

The bag turned out to contain a thick, circular metal band, like a flattened hollow cylinder, hinged at one end, with two small loops and a hook at the other. Inside the metal was a band of padding; soft cushioning with a deep red satin wrap. Only when Ash had been holding it long enough that their mind counted the order as complete did they think clearly enough to recognise it as a collar, perhaps one inch tall.

It would be a little loose around their neck, but that was better than the alternative. They opened it carefully and made to place it around their neck, then paused, and looked to their Master.

It wouldn’t be right to jump the gun.

All the same, though, he nodded. “Put it on,” he said, taking the bag back from her and plucking out a small padlock. Obediently, Ash settled their new collar around their neck and brought the loop together with the hook. Master then slipped the padlock into the loop and snapped it into place. Ash’s eyes fluttered and rolled up for a moment as the mark of their ownership was made public.

Their memory of time prior to today was hazy, but it was hard for them to imagine they’d ever been this turned on before. And it was all simply for doing what Master wanted them to do. They only had to obey.

*

There was a ringing at the doorbell and Master, curled up in bed around Ash, broke the kiss. “About time,” he said. “Fetch.”

Ash nodded, and said “Yes, Master,” as they had learned their Master enjoyed. They slipped out of bed and padded, naked but for their collar, to the doorway and along the hallway, their cock sticky with their own precum, their tits sticky with Master’s cum. He had been tentative, at first, but had found a real delight in the softness of Ash’s skin, the eager willingness of their hands and lips - and had been even more delighted to explore their collection of wands, sheathes, and other toys.

“You earned your collar today,” he’d told them, halfway through the afternoon, as they knelt at his feet, his cock seeming like the best thing they’d ever experienced, deserving worship. Their oral fixation might be something they’d always had, or as new as their desire to serve (which, Ash was pretty sure, had only happened when Master jumped them in their garage), but it had been well served that afternoon. “You belong to me, now, forever. You’ll do well in my collection.”

Which wasn’t a comment Ash had the information to understand, but it made them proud all the same. They’d beamed.

By the time the action had firmly moved to Ash’s bedroom, the shopping Ash has been doing had been forgotten by both of them, and wouldn’t be remembered until after they walked back into the garage the following day, packed and ready to depart.

Which was how Ash was now walking almost naked through their home to the doorway. Although it hadn’t occurred to them that their nudity was likely to cause comment; they had spent some time being conditioned to the idea that only their Master’s opinion of their body mattered. It had been, in some ways, a relief, especially as he approved.

Ash opened the door and smiled. The pizza delivery woman’s eyes were wide open, her eyes on Ash’s chest and collar. Ash took the small stack of pizza boxes from her, cradling them on one long, bent arm as she took the Pepsi bottle with their other hand. “We paid online,” they said.

The woman swallowed and nodded, and Ash closed the door behind them, fighting the urge to chuckle. They had no idea if the woman had noticed their cock, but her attention had been on the collar more than anything else. It made Ash proud, to now have proof that others would see a collared slave before they saw anything else.

They strode back to the bedroom and their diminutive Master, laying the food he’d bought with their card on the bed as if it was an offering of submission.

Which, of course, it was, when you got right down to it.

“You can eat soon,” Master said, grinning. “But first, put that mouth of yours to work.”

“Yes, Master,” Ash said as their thoughts melted away. Standing beside the bed, they bent from the waist, their breasts brushing against their Master’s thighs as their soft mouth welcomed him. Purring contentedly to themself, Ash set to work to obey. Master’s command was the only thing in their head.

Master opened the pizza box and started separating out a slice, but soon stopped, as Ash’s eager determination to prove their total submission soon filled their Master’s attention to the exclusion of other things.

*

Ash packed those of their clothes that their Master approved of, and all their toys, while their Master enjoyed Ash’s shower in the morning. Master had explained that it was time for Ash to be added to the collection.

With clearer memories of the past, the few steps Master had explained might have allowed Ash to realise the explanation for the recurring urban legends of attractive women disappearing in town. If they had, with their current indoctrination, they would simply have been glad that Master had seen fit to collect them as well as his women.

Master came back, wrapped in one of Ash’s towels, and picked up his discarded jacket. From another pocket he produced a long, thin, almost pretty steel chain leash, which he clipped to the remaining hoop on Ash’s collar. He looked their underwear choice up and down; soft red boxer shorts, loose and concealing, and a pretty red lace bra. They worked well as a matched set, and his smile said he approved.

“Put your boots on, and then throw a coat over the top,” he instructed, giving the leash a quick tug before releasing it so Ash could hurry to obey.

“Yes, Master.”

It felt so good to obey. Ash was finished as Master was still hopping into his jeans, and they went down to the garage together. Ash settled into the driver’s seat. They followed Master’s instructions navigating through town and then drove about two hours into the countryside, where Master’s old farmhouse was to be found.

Old turned out to be a slightly self-deprecating term; as their car pulled up to the gate and a diminutive, top-heavy Japanese woman in miniskirt, too-large dress shirt worn open over a pale blue bra, and (of course) a shiny metal collar opened the gate, Ash could see that the main farm building had been overhauled, but the barn had been almost totally rebuilt. An imposing brick structure with skylights, Ash could see a sliver of carpet and a lighting rig through the slightly-ajar door. A slim corridor built of glass like a greenhouse acted as a connecting tunnel between farmhouse and barn.

Their car pulled to a halt near three others. “Give Yumi your keys and show her your bags,” Master ordered. Ash climbed out of the car and turned to the woman tottering toward them on her platform heels. Yumi, presumably.

By the time they had handed over their keys, Master had taken hold of their collar. Yumi removed Ash’s bags and started carrying them toward the farmhouse, moving with surprising balance. Master was already leading Ash to the barn entrance, pulling them along with apparent casualness. With their longer legs, Ash had no problem keeping up.

The barn turned out to be open plan, and Ash stopped in their tracks as they saw the interior properly.

Suspended below the lighting rig was another scaffolding of metal rods, criss-crossing the space, perhaps seven feet from the ground. And standing to dreamy, half-hypnotised attention, were many of Master’s collection. Ash was sure that as well as Yumi - who by now was reversing Ash’s car out of the farm, the better to lose it somewhere else and allow Ash to ‘disappear’ into the same legend as Master’s other slaves - Master had other slaves on duty in his farmhouse, and possibly one or two in his fields, as they seemed to be in use.

But twenty or more attractive women of between twenty and late forties were standing directly below each of the metal rods, almost swaying on their feet. Master had his collection stored in his barn, the chains around their necks resting on hooks suspended from the framework. These leashes were not tight, but Ash already knew why none of them would lift the chain without permission. Just like them, Ash was in his power. Ash was under his control. Ash could not resist.

He dropped the loop of Ash’s leash onto a chain and they fell silent, standing obediently on display. He took their coat from their shoulders and dropped it to the floor beside them, then kissed them again. His eyes sparkled as he smiled into Ash’s face.

“Everyone gets their turn,” he told them. “But everyone must be patient. Waiting to obey is obedience in itself. Do you understand?”

With a smile, Ash said the only thing they could.

“Yes, Master.”

Master walked out of the door, leaving the newest part of his collection to make introductions to the others.