If you're following my story about Danielle, please be assured that I haven't stopped writing it; I'm just posting Clara's story a little early.
In addition to the same clever naming conventions they share, Danielle and Clara's Stories both contain chastity. -But unlike Danielle's Story, Clara's Story is not purely themed around this subject. Clara's Story is a non-consent/kidnapping tale at its heart. I think the theme is still appropriate for this forum, but if you're particularly sensitive to this topic, Clara's story may not be your cup of tea. I can tell you, though, that the main male character, Ian, is a good-guy who is always looking out for Clara's best interests in his own, backward way.
I hope you enjoy Clara's story!
(PS. If you're reading my stories and enjoying them, can you leave me some feedback? You can even do it in a PM. I'm trying to figure out if my views are from bots or people. I'm really hoping it's people who are reading my stories and enjoying them, and not bots.)
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Ian had watched Clara for the better part of three months before he had made his move. He decided on her quickly; she would be his, and he had been coming and going from her world as he simultaneously set things into motion on his world to take ownership of her. She was ideal for his purposes; young, kinky, attractive, and healthy -at least as far as he could tell. The health factor was technically unknown given her world’s privacy laws where health matters were concerned, but he was satisfied with her state of health based on what he could observe from afar. She was not on any serious medications, and what minor issues she did have, his own people could address betters than hers could. Most importantly, Clara had a functional reproductive system and a parallel universe identity to step into when he brought her over to his world. He would swap the two alternate versions of the woman so they both could live a more rewarding life.
“Hey Professor Kline,” Clara said, smiling at Ian as he stepped into the trendy coffee shop that reminded him of a cigar club. Deep colors with velvet and brocade fabrics used throughout the shop added to the ambiance. “The usual?”
The people of this version of North America were so friendly, he mused as she greeted him. “You know what I like, Clara.” He tapped his credit card to the reader the dropped two crisp dollar bills into the tip jar as Clara turned around to prepare his latte; plain, no sweeteners. He couldn’t help but watch her ass as she sidestepped at the bar to gather ingredients and prepare his brew on the back counter. His eyes sparkled as he imagined all the things he’d insert into that backside to control and subdue her when the time was right to take her. On campus, Clara’s red hair would fall to her hips in waves like molten lava flowing downhill, but at the coffee shop, she wore her hair in a bun that he rather disliked. When she was his, it would always tumble down her back, just the way he preferred.
“How are classes going?” he asked her when she handed him the warm mug and a couple of napkins. She knew he liked to sip his coffee in the shop rather than take it to go, so she never asked anymore if he wanted a paper cup. She invited him to sit and stay for a bit and he settled his muscular frame onto a bar stool to chat the younger woman up before the next rush of customers came in to steal her away from him.
“Not bad,” Clara replied as she stacked clean mugs for future orders. “I’m about done with the homework from your class, and I think I might actually be starting to understand some of it.” She grinned at him. “Maybe,” she amended.
He smiled back. “And your other classes?”
“I’m struggling in chemistry. But!” she added and he knew the sales pitch to her optimist thinking was coming next. “I have a party to go to this weekend and I’ve got the bulk of my work cleared away so I can do that.”
Ian nodded his head in understanding. He was fortunate to find a job teaching mathematics at his target’s university. Even more fortunate that the hiring board did not do too deep of a dive into his academic credentials which were forged for the purpose of getting closer to Clara. “Aren’t you a little old for toga parties and beer bongs?”
She laughed. “Toga parties, yeah, I think I’m a little too old. I met a new friend in a study group that recently I joined. She’s celebrating her 26th birthday and I was invited!”
Were she on his world, he’d have admonished her for prioritizing any party over her studies if she was struggling in one of her classes. But this was not his world and the eternal optimists who inhabited this version of earth were prone to deprioritizing important things in favor of relaxation and mental health. It would not be a habit she would be permitted to continue when he got her to his home, but he had no authority over her… yet. On the other hand, he thought, one shining light that he admired so much in her was her capacity to make lemonade out of lemons. -Not that his people lacked this trait outright, but the people here definitely knew how to liven things up, and Clara seemed particularly adept at focusing on the positive and keeping things light and carefree. “That’s close in age to you, right?”
Clara nodded. “Close enough! I just turned 25.”
Ian knew exactly how old she was, and he knew she was born on September 2nd at 7:43 AM at Jonesville Medical Center, but she didn’t need to know exactly how much he knew about her. It would only scare her off. Twenty-five would be considered quite old to be first working on a bachelor’s degree on his world, but it wasn’t the case here. Where he was from, 25-year-olds were usually finished with their second degrees and entering the workforce. But Clara was a product of her environment and had gone backpacking through Asia and Europe for a few years following the loss of her parents, which delayed her academic pursuits. Even on his world, trauma such as this would justify a hiatus from reality. Special exceptions aside, young people were pushed to achieve success in the academic fields. Even slaves had to go to school and contribute to their society. It was why slavery couldn’t begin until a participant was 25.
She looked at him funny for a few seconds and then turned her attention back to the dishes. He knew what she wanted to know but she was too polite to ask outright. “Thirty-two,” he told her. He wasn’t actually thirty-two, but he looked to be about that age. Medical advances on his world slowed the aging process and lengthened lives. Ian was actually forty-five and had a life expectancy of 150 years. The aging process where he was from reflected the extended lifespan, so he would appear this young for decades to come.
“Oh!” she said, brightening up. “Professor at thirty-two?”
“My credentials warranted it,” Ian said, giving her a little wink. She looked impressed.
“Where did you study?” Clara asked.
“Sanford.”
“Sanford? Where is that?”
“California. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.”
“Stanford?” She asked, appearing confused.
“Right, Stanford. So, you do know it.”
“I could swear you said Sanford,” she said, looking a little embarrassed over the blunder she believed was hers.
He chuckled, trying to cover up his error. “I’ve never heard of Sanford.”
Ian admonished himself when he got into his car. He had one job, and that job was to win Clara’s trust and get her to go on a couple of dates with him so he could lure her back to his place and haul her through the portal to his world. How can he do that if he can’t memorize his own backstory?
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Clara was undeniably attracted to the professor. He had commanded a rather lofty title for his age and she was simply attracted to intelligent men; it was even better that his looks were very easy on the eyes. His black hair was always impeccably combed and his thick, dark beard was trimmed neatly, close to his face. He tended to wear jeans and a dress shirt that he wore unbuttoned and tucked into his pants. She positively wanted to eat him up, he looked so good. If the truth were to be told, she got nervous each time she saw him and really wanted to dominate his attention as often as she could. She would make a mad dash to the mirror in the back office of the coffee shop each time she’d see a car fitting his make, model and color pull into the lot. Checking her hair and making sure she didn’t have anything on her face, she’d run back to the front of the house to greet him, pretending each time like she was taken off guard by his presence in the coffee shop.
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Clara sat in his lecture hall listening to his lesson on graphs and functions, desperately trying to keep track of his thought process as he solved what was to her, impossibly difficult equations on the overhead projector. Sure, it was only college algebra, but she wasn’t built for mathematics and she resented needing to take any math course for her nursing degree.
Professor Kline found her in the sea of students attending the lesson and they locked eyes causing her pussy to twitch. What a catch he would be if she could manage it. “Do you have a few minutes?” He asked her after class. “I want to go over your homework with you.” His tone was serious and firm.
Clara’s face fell. Shit. “Uh, sure, Professor Kline. Your office hours will be fine?”
“We can talk right now if you want to. Come, let’s go upstairs to my office.”
This can’t be good, she thought as he led her up the lecture hall stairs to the second floor of the Hobe-Bryce Building and into his office. In a building with polished wood and decorative accents from a by-gone era, the ultra-modern furniture Professor Kline added to the room looked out of place with the hardwood floors, wooden book cases, and gold, damask curtains that hung on the windows. Clara would have played up the office’s Victorian roots rather than bulldoze over them with such a contrasting style. Not that she was a position to criticize. She lacked the funds to decorate her apartment. “Was there a problem with my homework?”
He chuckled. “Well aside from the fact that it’s entirely wrong, no. Your handwriting is beautiful.” He withdrew her paper from his briefcase and handed it to her. “Your graph is increasing on this interval, and decreasing on this one. And it seems you’re mixing up the parenthesis with the brackets. You have it backwards.” Clara sighed and flopped down in one of the visitor’s chairs across from his desk. “This is a simple thing to remember. I’m concerned that you’re not putting your full attention into your work when you’re doing math. Maybe you’re focused more on birthday parties?”
She nodded her head. “I’m probably not focused the way I should be. I confess to not being a ‘math person.’ Do you have any other techniques or ideas that might help me? Maybe you have a study program to help people who hate math?”
He smiled at her. “As a matter of a fact, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She straightened up in the chair, paying attention. “My suggestion would be very unorthodox. We would want to keep it under the table if you’re game, but I have a way to keep distracted people focused on their success. Perhaps we can discuss it over drinks? I have a faculty meeting in 10 minutes and a class right after that.” She looked interested and nodded her head, agreeing that drinks would be nice. “Excellent! How’s tonight at 8:00? There’s a beer and wine bar just a bit off campus on the northside. They specialize in curating an eclectic collection from around the globe. Once they’re of out a beer or wine, there is no guarantee you’ll see it on the menu again so it’s good to go and sample while you can. Can I pick you up?”
“That sounds excellent,” Clara said, looking more eager than she should have been revealing. They exchanged phone numbers and she gave him her address before departing from his office with a little spring in her step.
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Finnegans had their table waiting for them in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Ian had arranged with the hostess in advance to seat them in a booth in a private alcove where they could talk freely without feeling like their conversation was being overheard by others. A flight of eight beers was delivered to the table with the promise of more to come when the tasting sized glasses were emptied.
“This first flight is from a microbrewery out of Chicago,” Ian said with a wink as he invited Clara to select a glass.
“I do love beer,” she said happily, choosing a porter and raising it in toast to his lager selection.
Of course you love beer, Ian thought I know all about what you like and dislike.
By their second flight, Clara was lubricated enough to speak freely with him. She was laughing at his jokes and complimenting him. It felt like the right time for Ian to broach the subject of ‘helping’ her with her comprehension of algebra.
“It’s something that I would wear?” Clara asked, confused. “What kind of thing would I wear that would help me with math?”
“Well, it wouldn’t help with your math directly, but it would motivate you to work hard to get rewards.”
She chuckled, looking impossibly confused as she tried to work out the problem of what fantastic wearable item he could be referring to. “The only thing I can think of is a chastity belt.” She broke into peals of laughter over her suggestion. But then he saw on her face a flicker of doubt as if maybe she knew she was being too forward or revealing too much about her deepest desires. Lucky for her, he was well aware of her proclivities and her interest in this subject pleased him immensely. It was one of the many qualities that attracted him to her so much. And given her preoccupation with chastity, it was the natural conclusion for her to draw. There was no way she was going to decline his offer tonight.
“Not exactly a belt,” he said nonchalantly. “But it fits over your uh… genitals so you can’t touch.”
She set the empty miniature lager down on the table and looked at him for signs of joking. “You’re not being serious, though, right? This is the beer talking?”
“Oh, my dear, I assure you. I am being very serious and I’m pretty sure I have a much greater capacity to hold my alcohol than you do.”
Musical laughter broke past her lips as she selected a red ale and took an exploratory sip. “You’re male, you’re bigger than me, you’ve eaten more of these appetizers than me, and you’ve literally had fewer glasses. -So are you seriously proposing to lock me up like a damsel in distress and use my sex-drive to motivate me to learn algebra?” She shuddered. “Do you have any idea how incredibly hot this is sounding to me?”
I’ve done my research on you, Clara. I have a good inkling. He kept his thought to himself. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut you off, Clara. I can’t be seen as having taken advantage of you, you know.” He flagged the server down for the bill and ushered a very tipsy Clara to his vehicle when they were ready to leave. He was glad she was only tipsy. It would make his job… more ethical. “Would you like me to take you back to your apartment?”
Clara grinned. “I’m not sure. Is this chastity thing you have at your place? Maybe I want to go there.”
“I brought it with me. I didn’t think you’d be so willing to come to my place.”
“What if I say I don’t want to wear it?”
“If you don’t want to play the game with me, then I’ll rescind the invitation.” The nuance of his words soared right over her head.
Clara grinned. “I think I do want to play the game with you.”
That certainly makes things easier. He smiled at her as he pulled into a guest space at her off-campus housing apartment complex. She led him to her unit and invited him inside. Her home was sparsely furnished with a big-box style that really sold the college student vibe. The only thing that looked like it was of a higher quality was the sofa, which he assumed was second-hand.
He had brought a case from his trunk with him to her apartment and she eyed it curiously.
“This, my dear, holds your new jewelry.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink and set it down on her table. The case was opened and he withdrew a golden cup-shaped object that looked like it would perfectly cover her pubis, down to the bottom of her pussy. He handed it to her to examine. It was solid in the front, and perforated throughout the bottom portion to allow fluids to flow freely. Clara looked positively excited and she held the cup to her crotch, over her jeans.
“Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed. “How do you know if it will fit properly?”
Ian shrugged. “I estimated your size, but I can make adjustments if I need to. Would you like me to put it on you?”
“Holy shit!” Clara said, handing the object back to him. “Yes! Is it held on with chains?”
“Not exactly,” Ian said. “More like a piercing. It may be a little painful. I have a pill you can take to make it easier.”
Clara nodded her head eagerly and she downed the little yellow tablet he gave her. It was reckless of her, but the tablet was a placebo, it’s purpose to confirm her consent to what he was about to do to her. He would certainly be working on her careless disregard for her personal safety when she was under his control officially, but for now her disregard for her own well-being served his purposes.
“How about an orgasm before you lose the privilege of calling the shots for yourself?”
“Oh my goodness, yes!” Her hands went up to Ian’s shirt to feel the hardness of his chest. He was prone to working out, she discovered. “Can I suck your cock?” A glimmer of approval flashed in his eyes and Clara pulled him into her bedroom before reaching down to unbutton his pants. The folds of his clothing were pushed away to reveal a semi-hard cock that boasted the potential for both length and girth. Clara moaned with delight and dropped to her knees to give him a nice, long lick up the length of his shaft. She was painstakingly slow as her tongue bathed him up from the base to the tip over and over. She stabilized his cock in her hand to ensure the laps of her tongue had enough pressure to coax him into further hardness. Satisfied with the results thus far, Clara moved to his head and popped it into her mouth as she rolled her tongue across the silky-smooth, salty surface.
He groaned and she wrapped her fingers around his shaft at the base and sucked gently on his head. He gripped the back of her head and nudged in a little, conveying his desires for her to begin sucking. Picking up on the cue, she curled her lips over her teeth to safely welcome his length into her mouth. Sucking gently on him, she opened her jaw and he moved in deeper until she jerked a little from the gag-reflex he triggered. She pumped him in and out of her mouth, licking the bottom of his shaft as he moved about. Her suction improved as she adjusted to his size and he tightened his grip on her hair, holding her head still as he fucked her face.
“Swallow,” he urged when he noticed the gag-reflex was becoming a problem. She had never done that before but she wanted to please him, so when he jammed inward, she tried it. She swallowed and he slipped right down her throat. He stayed still for a few seconds, barely thrusting as she breathed hard and focused on accommodating his size. A slight nod of her head indicated her readiness, and Ian picked the pace up. “You’re doing great, Clara. You’re so hot,” he told her. “But I’d like to cum in your sweet little pussy before I lock you up good.”
She gushed at his words and moaned her approval. “Clothes off, on the bed,” he directed her firmly as he withdrew from her. He disrobed and tossed his clothing off to the side and helped her with her clothes before playfully tossing her on the bed. Clara eagerly spread her legs to reveal a glistening pussy, nestled into a neatly trimmed bush of red hair. His finger went in for a dip test and she sighed contentedly as he slipped it easily inside. A finger was a far cry from a cock, but the fullness still felt wonderful and she clenched around him. “Beautiful,” he commented. “So wonderfully wet for me.”
“Are you really going to lock me up?” she asked.
“Oh absolutely. Your little puss is all mine.” He lined his cock up against her opening and pushed the head into her. “Enjoy your orgasm, my beautiful pet.” And with that, he speared her. He was claiming her, and marking his territory.
“Ooooohhhh,” she said, exhaling. She was so very wet for him and he glid into place, deep and satisfying with no resistance whatsoever. Her pussy bore down on his cock, muscles tightening all around him. She adjusted her hips to change his angle just enough so his shaft rubbed against her clit and her moaning became louder as he thrust into her. He stayed with her, hard and thrusting as her orgasm mounted and he watched for signs that her climax was near.
“You may cum, Clara. Whenever you’re ready.”
She hadn’t thought to ask him permission to cum, but the precedent was now set. She reached around to his back and gripped him at the small of it, and pulled him close her. Toes curled and back stiff, she raised her knees, widening them, and she tumbled over the edge of her climax. Waves of ecstasy shot through her, seemingly with no point of origin, pulsing through her body. She bit her lower lip, closed her eyes tight, and rode the orgasm to its conclusion as Ian grunted, stiffened his legs, and deposited the contents of his balls into her clenching pussy. Ropes of sticky, white cum painted her inner passage and he leaned down and kissed her lips. She returned the kiss with fervor and he withdrew from her, leaving her in her afterglow as he stood up and retrieved something from his pants. He pressed a hand-held medical device to her neck, activated it, and sent a cocktail of pain killers and sleeping medication to her system. She was confused for only a few seconds before she dozed off and he could get to work.
He washed her clean with a rag and her pubic hair came off easily enough with the hair removal wand that he had stored in the case he brought; his technology was far superior to her world’s and he was sure the hair would not regrow or require touchups. Shoot! He thought, admonishing himself for his actions. He really should have gotten her consent before he stole her pubic hair. Oh well. It was bad form, but I’ll be stealing a lot more from her in the near future.
The technology to hold the cup to her skin used magnets that would be embedded in her body. He was far from a competent surgeon, but his medical equipment rendered the job safe and sterile even for a novice to perform. The magnetic material was injected into her body as a gel that would harden to a flexible solid and remain beneath her skin. With his syringe, he lined her entire sex from the top of her pubis down to her perineum with magnetic material. The technology on this world did not exist for her to dissolve the material and remove the cup on her own. It would be a permanent fixture without his intervention. He held the cup against her body and activated it with touch DNA on the smooth, finger-print sized pad on the front of the cup. He had cheated to get the fit right. Her alternate from his world, Clara-Jane Newman, was the model for the cup’s construction. He stood back and admired his handiwork. Beautiful. Sorry college boys. This one is all mine.
He might have spent all night fucking her over and over before drugging her and locking her up. But he was not willing to risk anything interrupting his procedure. He indulged as much as he dared, but the night long orgy his body craved would not be getting quenched this evening. Having her secured was the top priority and he relaxed a little knowing that she was his now, whether she knew it or not. He checked the time. She would be out for another 5 hours at least and he had classes in the morning. While he was here on this world, he would honor his obligations and report to work on time.
He rummaged through her dresser to find her panty drawer and selected the sexiest pair he could find. None of them were to his liking, but the violet, lacy number would be sufficient. He made a mental note to burn the contents of the drawer and replace every pair of plain, cotton bikinis with more suitable items. He slid them up her legs and pulled the blankets over her sleeping form. “Good night, my sweet pet,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead.
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Clara’s alarm went off at 9:00 AM, and she felt unusually well rested. She didn’t remember going to bed last night, and realized that she must have been so drunk on her date that he put her to bed. How embarrassing. No wait, she thought. That’s not what happened. I had a kick-ass orgasm, and so did he! She racked her brain to recall the rest of the evening. They had talked about chastity belts and she was beyond aroused by the discussion. He had said he’d lock her up and she nearly melted from excitement. She pulled the covers back and looked down past her flat belly to her panties which betrayed no sign of a bulky cup like the one he showed her last night. A wave of disappointment washed over her. Maybe he was full of shit.
She swung her legs out of the bed and that’s when she felt it. There was something hard and foreign inside her panties and when she moved her legs, she felt a dull ache around the outside of her pussy. “Holy shit!” she cried out as her hands flew to her crotch to find the metal cup was not only in her panties, but it was stuck to her skin. Her panties came down and she ran to the bathroom mirror to examine her body. The gleaming, golden cup extended from just above her hairline and tapered down to a narrow end that stopped right above her anus. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed in the mirror. “What the actual fuck? How is this thing being held on?” She pulled at it, but it didn’t budge. She pulled harder and harder until she felt a zap on her mons. It wasn’t horribly painful, but after a few corrections of increasing intensity, she learned not to pull on the cup. He actually did it. He seriously did it! A wave of arousal hit her and she reached down to touch herself. Blocked! This thing is no toy.
She looked throughout the apartment for the keys she was sure he’d have left her, because surely he wouldn’t lock it onto her without giving her an avenue for release in the event of an emergency. She found nothing but a handwritten note atop a pile of clothes; her clothes. A white, denim skirt on the shorter side, a black and white striped slouch shirt and a black, strapless bra were present. A pair of high heels and a tube of her reddest lipstick were also in the pile. “This outfit looks suitable for today,” the note read.
[Clara Newman 9:25 AM] Professor Kline, how do I remove this if I don’t have a key?
She checked her phone obsessively for the next half hour, but received no response. She needed to discuss this with him immediately and so she drove herself to campus and snuck into a seat in the back of the lecture hall where she knew he was teaching. “Miss Newman,” Professor Kline said as she slid into the back row. The entire class turned to look at her. “You’re welcome to join the lecture. Why don’t you take a seat up here,” he gestured to an empty seat in the front row, opposite of his podium. “I saved it for you. As I told the class, I was pretty sure that a red-headed woman from the Monday/Wednesday class would be joining us today to reinforce the material she learned just yesterday. I’m glad you decided to come.”
Clara’s phone pinged in the lecture hall and she blushed as she pulled it from her purse to read.
[Unknown 10:45 AM] I see you wore the outfit I left out for you. I’m very pleased, pet. You look stunning. Open your legs for me. I want to see my handiwork.
She didn’t even see Professor Kline touch his phone. How did he do that? As discreetly as she could, Clara leaned back in her chair and spread her knees. He casually glanced between them and frowned.
[Unknown 10:48 AM] pet, you were given an outfit to wear. Panties were not a part of the outfit that I laid out for you. You can still fix this. Get up and excuse yourself and go to the ladies’ room. Remove your panties and deposit them in the trash. Return to your seat and display your pretty jewelry for me.
Again, he never touched his phone! Clara excused herself and returned a few minutes later to take her seat and resume her note taking. She casually spread her knees once again and he glanced at her. Between her creamy thighs, the golden cup peeked out. He could see the perforations in it and he imagined that she had to have relieved herself by now. He wondered if the task had been difficult for her. Maybe it had been humiliating to have to piss right into the cup and wait for the liquid to drain all the way out. He smiled inwardly at the thought of it, and he looked at Clara with pride. That was his owned pussy behind that cup, and that that was his girl who was carrying out his bidding.
[Unknown 11:04 AM] Perfect! Well done. I’m proud of you, pet.
“I need to speak to you!” Clara told him after he concluded his lecture.
“I imagine you do, and you may at 4pm in my office.”
“I can’t talk to you now?”
“Unfortunately, no. I have office hours, tutoring and another class to teach. Be lucky you joined the college algebra class and not the differential equations class I have later on.”
She looked annoyed. “Fine. I’ll see you at 4pm. Can I just get the key or whatever is needed to remove the uh… metal carapace from my crotch? Chastity is kind of my kink and I really need to uhm….” She blushed furiously leaving her sentence unfinished.
Ian let out a hearty laugh. “No.” he answered simply. “That will not be coming off of you without my direct supervision. He pulled her in and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Why don’t you work on your math homework between now and 4pm. Knock my socks off with how well it is completed, then we can talk about that orgasm you want.” He leaned into her and whispered huskily into her ear, “You smell amazing, my sweet, aroused pet. I’ll bet your soaking wet under there.”
Clara’s face turned red. He can smell my arousal? Clara thought with horror. She wanted to protest and demand the key from him. She wanted to report him to …someone, and have them make him give her the key. But in doing that, she will have to show them that he locked some strange thing onto her pussy that she agreed to, and she was not ready to go down that road. Do I even have proof that he is the one who did this?
Her eyes narrowed at him. “I’m going home to shower and put on a clean pair of panties!” It was her intention to be defiant. She wanted to express her independence to him and set boundaries that she would expect him to follow.
His hand snaked around her upper arm and he pulled her close. “No, no, little pet. That’s not how this works. You may go home and take a shower, but you do not put panties on without my permission, is that clear? I want you back here at 4 o’clock in this outfit; the outfit I picked for you for the day.”
Perhaps defying the man who held her pussy hostage was not a wise idea. She decided she would do the homework, knock his socks off, and get him to give her the key. Do I really even want the key? Maybe it would be more fun to let him hold it for a bit. She had to admit that his authoritative tone was incredibly sexy. As long as he was letting her out on a regular basis and demonstrating his good intentions as a keyholder, maybe it was okay to let him leave her locked up for a bit. But only a little bit, she told herself.
====
Clara softly knocked on the door to Professor Kline’s office. “Come in, Clara,” he announced. She opened his door and took her seat on the other side of his desk when he invited her to. Smiling, she pulled out her paper and passed it over to him. He looked exceedingly pleased when he first browsed it, and then he leaned back in his chair and examined it more carefully. His expression looked less and less impressed as he continued to review her work. “Please take out your phone.” She did so, placing the devices on his desk. “Unlock it,” he told her. She brought the device to her face and opened it with her image. “Hand it to me.” He held out his hand but Clara hesitated. She was not accustomed to allowing people to browse through her phone. There was certainly private material that she kept on it that she didn’t want Professor Kline to find. “Now,” he said firmly. “I am not interested in your messages with friends, or the things you search on your private browser.” In fact, he was very interested in her messages, posts, and her browsing habits, but he already had that data. She hesitantly handed him her phone and he brought up the apps. “Ah, there it is; FlickerMath.” His pupils widened for just as second before he said, “Ooooh! Look at this! It was just installed today.”
“Fuck,” Clara said under her breath.
He wrote a problem down on a piece of paper and handed it to her along with a pencil. “Solve it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“That’s what I thought. Okay, Clara, so you came here to ask me to remove your… what did you call it? Ah yes, your carapace, and I suggested that might happen if you knock my socks off with your homework.” He waved the paper at her. “This does not knock my socks off. Though I’m moderately impressed that you took the time to copy the worked-out solutions you saw on FlickerMath with such care. It suggests that you’re willing to devote the time to your work even if you’re not yet ready to devote your mental resources to ensuring your own success.” She hated that he so easily called her on her bullshit. “It also suggests that you have no ethical objection against deceiving your keyholder; the man you asked to help you do better in school. There will be a punishment for the attempted deception.” He texted her something and when she checked the message, she found an address had been sent to her. This time, the message came from the phone number he’d given her before. “9PM tonight, I want you there.”
She looked at him warily. “What kind of punishment did you have in mind? Like extra homework time or I have to do your dishes or something?”
“Oh, absolutely not, Clara. Tonight, you will wear pants and the panties you so very much wanted to wear earlier, and I will have the pleasure of seeing those pants and panties pulled down to your knees. I will lean you over the back of a chair, and I will deliver a spanking to you like you’ve never had in your life.”
“No,” She responded quickly. Her tone was defiant once again. “I don’t want to be punished like that.”
“What objection do you have to this punishment?”
“It’s humiliating!”
“Well Clara, this is the punishment I’ve selected for you. I think you can handle it just fine, even if you don’t want to. I will see you tonight at 9PM at the address I gave you.”
She hmphed at him and stalked out of his office. 9pm came and went, as did 9:30, 10, and 10:30. Her phone pinged with a new message at 11pm.
[Unknown 11:30 PM] I am adding on 10 for today and five for each additional day that you do not show up at my home at 9pm. I look forward to seeing you in class on Monday if I do not see you this weekend.
=====
Ian had been transporting from his world to the new world regularly. His obligations at home could not be ignored just because he was chasing some skirt in another world. He had met Clara-Jane some months ago when he read her profile on the slavery registry. She had been placed on the registry when she was a child so her parents could benefit from the up-front payment for the service she would render later in life. As Ian did with all females on the registry to whom he was attracted, he interviewed Clara-Jane and though she was incredibly beautiful, he found her personality to be a mismatch for his desired purposes. When he discovered such a beautiful woman had not been purchased after several months, he could only imagine that it was her feminist mindset that turned prospective buyers off. He paid to put a hold on her, and Clara-Jane had spent the next 6 months wondering if he would complete the purchase. He finally did just one month ago.
“Okay, hold on,” Clara-Jane said to Ian in full protest to what he was proposing to her. “You’re telling me there’s some alternate universe just like ours with people, just like us, and some of them are doppelgangers of us?” Ian nodded his head and she pieced together everything he’d just told her. “And you want me to switch places with the Clara-Jane from the other universe?”
“Actually, she’s just Clara over there. You’re named for both of your grandmothers, but her grandmother Jane had not yet passed away by the time she was born,” Ian patiently explained.
“And how exactly do plan to swap me and Clara? How are you getting from one place to the other?”
Ian smiled. “This is where that NDA I had you sign comes into play. I’m not asking you to believe me. I’m telling you that I’m prepared to take you there right now, and when we’re there, you’re going to have no doubt in your mind that you have actually travelled to another universe.”
“Okay, so take me there,” Clara-Jane challenged him. It was the challenge in her tone that reinforced for Ian that the switch was good for both women. He certainly understood her disbelief but the women on his world typically phrased things in a more submissive manner. It was their culture, but in the new world, there was no patriarchy. Clara-Jane would be much happier in a world where the sexes were equal -Or at least becoming equal as social reform took root. Clara-Jane could do anything she wanted there. But Clara from this new world, craved domination. She would appreciate Ian’s firm, guiding hand.
They rode an elevator from his home office down to what could best be described as an underground chamber roughly the size of a two-story mansion. It was open in the middle with doors and hallways that were dug into the bedrock on both the first and second levels. A staircase led down to the first floor where Clara-Jane saw what looked to her to be a laboratory on one side and the fixings of a small living room complete with sofa, television, and a coffee table on the other. There was a kitchenette off to the side and a little table and chairs. But the most surprising fixture in the cavernous chamber was the human-sized cage that separated the living space from the laboratory. It held a bed, and a side-table, along with a table and chair that could be used for dining. “What the hell….” Clara-Jane said.
“Don’t worry about that,” Ian said ushering her off to another chamber, much smaller than the first, but still a good size. A large device dominated the space. Wires and tubes extended from a platform in the center and Ian led Clara-Jane to the transportation pad and activated the device. They were bathed in blue lights as their bodies dematerialized and took shape on a smaller pad of similar design that Ian set up in the basement of his North American home in the alternate world.
The trip to the new world made an instant believer out of Clara-Jane. Ian drove her around town and she marveled the differences and similarities between the two worlds. It would have been impossible for a ruse of this scale to have taken place. Different clothing styles, different cars, the buildings looked old and also new. “There are so many people!” Clara-Jane commented.
“This world holds 7 billion of them,” Ian told her.
She gasped at the number. Their world only had 3 billion, and they were losing population very year. “They don’t have a fertility problem?”
“You will have no difficulty finding a surrogate to carry a baby for you.”
“And I can be anything in this world, you said? I don’t have to accept being shoe-horned into a submissive, feminine role?”
“You can be a doctor, a lawyer, or the CEO of a major corporation,” he told her.
When they returned home, Clara-Jane agreed to participate in the switch. “What about the other Clara? Does she want to come here? I assume your interest in her has to do with her fertility.”
Ian nodded his head. “Fertility aside, Clara is a deeply submissive woman who has never explored that side of herself outside of her internet explorations. I am certain that she will love it here when she comes to accept it.”
“You’re kidnapping her?”
“I am forcibly removing her from her world and relocating her here. She will live out the life that you were going to live, and you will get a fresh start in her world,” He pulled out a packet of papers that he slid across the desk. “I own you, Clara-Jane. You are mine to do with as I please for the next 10 years. Either you are going in that cage, or she is going in that cage, but only one of you will actually enjoy from the experience.”
The gravity of his words hit her. She understood him now. “Okay, I’ll do my part.”
====
Clara attended Professor Kline’s lecture twice at the scheduled times in the week following their meeting in his office. She asked intelligent questions and took notes carefully as he taught his class. On Thursday she showed up at his office hours with her completed homework and he reviewed it for her. “Much better!” he said with a measure of pride behind his tone. “I don’t see evidence of FlickerMath this time. There are more eloquent ways to solve these problems, but the answers are correct, and the work appears to be yours.” He wrote a few questions down on a piece of paper, and Clara was able to solve them with no trouble at all. He smiled broadly at her. “I see the lesson of doing your own work has been well learned. Good job, Clara.”
She bit her lower lip feeling exceedingly pleased with herself for actually learning the math.
“So, are you ready to submit to your punishment?” he asked her, handing her paper back to her.
She looked surprised. “Actually, I thought you forgot about that. Is that still necessary? I mean… you did just say the lesson of doing my own work was well learned.”
His eyes twinkled with mirth. “I am not sure how you expected me to just forget about spanking your sexy ass. I have been eagerly awaiting the day you would be ready to take care of that and clear your balance. Besides,” he said. “Your cheating is technically a university matter that I am not pursing. The initial spankings are for attempting to deceive me, your keyholder, and the subsequent ones are for defiance. You were told to report to my home at 9pm, one week ago. You have continued to defy me each day since then.”
“I’m not going to submit to you, Professor Kline.”
“Yes, you will, Clara. And until you do, the tally of spankings you’ll get will continue to increase by 5 each day.”
“I’m going to tell someone about this thing you put on me and they’re going to make you take it off of me.”
“No, you won’t, Clara.”
She argued with him, insisting that he will get terminated in some embarrassing, public manner for sexual harassment. Professor Kline fired back that by the looks of it, the person who did this to her is trying to protect her from sexual harassment, not subject her to it.
“Clara, if you attempt to tell anyone about the cup you are wearing, you will get a series of shocks on that sweet little puss of yours that won’t be warning shots.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Do not test me. Be at my house tonight at 9:00 PM.”
=====
It would be another 4 days before Clara showed up on Ian’s doorstep just before 9:00 PM with tears in her eyes. Her face was red, and by the looks of it, she had probably been crying for some time. He ushered her into the living room as she sobbed. “I just can’t get it off! I can’t fucking get it off! It won’t budge!” He sat her down on the sofa and went to his bar to pour her a club soda while he fixed a whiskey for himself. Girls who are about to get punished don’t get to drink alcohol and dull the pain.
“How the fuck does it come off?!”
He pushed the soda in her hands. “I can remove it anytime I like.”
“It’s stuck to my skin.”
He nodded his head. “It does appear that way, yes. It’s actually attached to a magnetic substance that I embedded in your body. To tear it off would tear your skin off with it. There are a lot of important organs in that area that I don’t think you want to damage trying to remove that without me. The magnetic material is deep, so we’re not talking some superficial skin tears. To remove it would cause a lot of internal damage and permanent disfigurement. Not to mention the cup would shock you with increasing intensity to discourage you from harming yourself.”
“I don’t understand how this works.”
“But you agree that it does work, correct?”
Clara nodded her head.
“How horny are you?”
She broke down into tears again. “I can’t stand it! I can’t fucking stand it!”
He made a mental note on the spot that Clara’s language would need to be cleaned up.
“When we are done with the 85 spankings you are due, I will remove the cup so you can have an orgasm.” On the one hand, he was hesitant to reward her after her punishment with an orgasm, but on the other hand, he wanted to associate her submission with sexual climax. She would get her orgasm this time and he would reevaluate how to handle the association of climax and punishment for the future.
Clara blubbered her gratitude and Ian went to a closet in a nearby room to withdraw some items he would use to punish Clara. “Please do not do anything to incur additional punishment,” he said as he fastened a collar with wrist tethers that hung down her back and would hold her arms close to her body with an additional belt that circled her waist. Having no idea what kind of Houdini he had on his hands, Ian secured the closures with small pad locks. A spreader bar was attached at the ankles, holding her legs a bit more than shoulder-width apart. He guided her over the back of an arm chair and proceeded to lower her rather attractive yoga pants and unattractive panties. “Well don’t you look fetching with your pants down around your knees,” he commented. Her backside blushed and he was sure her face was probably the color of red beets. “You are going to count every one of these,” he advised her. “I want to hear ‘One, thank you Sir, two, thank you, Sir, and so forth. I am going to continue with the spanking whether you counted the last one or not. You may never skip numbers, so if you fail to count one, then that spanking didn’t count and you may count the next one. If you miss 10 in a row, I will pause your punishment and give you a five-minute break. You may resume counting when I start up again. I’m also giving you a safe-word. You are important to me,” he assured her as he stroked her back reassuringly. “You have the power to say it and I will stop if you do. But there will be consequences for using it. You will not feel your pussy until your punishment is delivered in full, and starting from this point, I will not give you fewer than 50 spankings in a session. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Clara said.
“Yes, Sir will be fine for today,” he said, firmly correcting her as he placed his hand on the small of her back to calm and guide her. The first hand-fall smashed into her backside with moderate force, but Clara, having no frame of reference, was stunned and she shrieked at the unwelcome sensation. “Count, pet,” Ian reminded her.
“One, thank you, Sir.”
He had concentrated his strikes toward the bottom of her backside and the hand-falls came with regularity. He cut her no slack with her counting obligations. She either made the count or she missed it and it wasn’t more than a few errors before she realized that she needed to keep up with him. When he reached twenty, he paused to let her know that had she submitted to him for her punishment when she was told, they’d be finished by now. She moaned and dreaded the sixty-five that were still to come. By thirty she was dancing in place, which he allowed because it didn’t interfere with his work, and by forty Ian had conceded to himself that he would have to spank other parts of her ass besides her sit-spot as she was not handling the punishment well. She had missed ten counts and he gave her a five-minute break.
“You’re doing well,” he told her, rubbing her back. She’s doing well under the circumstances, he corrected himself. He did not allow her to stand back up for her break when she tried to right herself. He held his hand firm on her back, keeping her bent over the chair.
“Can you please just count those last 10?” she pleaded.
“No, pet. Those are not the rules of engagement. You understood the consequences for not counting.”
A guttural cry of frustration immediately preceded the stomping of her foot and the spankings began again. This time she was sure to keep careful count, and Ian’s compromise was to vary the location of his strikes to fan out the pain until she was more accustomed to punishment. When they reached eighty-five, Clara’s creamy, white backside had turned a bright shade of red. “You did great, Clara. I know that was hard. I’m proud of you for enduring, but I hope you won’t let punishments get out of hand like this in the future.”
“I won’t!” she said, sobbing as he helped her to stand up straight. With her pants still down around her knees and her ankles spread wide, Ian helped her to cross the room where he positioned her in the corner. “No, please!” she begged when she realized what he had in mind for her. Tears streamed down her face, but Ian was sure it was because of the humiliation rather than her sore backside.
“You have ten minutes, pet,” He informed her as he positioned her in the corner of his living room. He had selected a blank space where she would have no visual stimulation at all. “Don’t turn around until I tell you. Don’t plead with me, don’t talk to me, and don’t move for 10 minutes. I’m going to sit down on my sofa and admire your bright-red, properly punished backside that is on display for me. While you pout here in the corner, I’m going to appreciate that your hands are immobilized and will be unable to hide the shame of your punishment from my gaze. Another stomp of her foot came and Ian stepped on the spreader bar. “Do not move,” he said firmly.
She heard him approaching after what felt like 10 minutes, and she wanted to turn around to face him. “Don’t move,” he reminded her. “And don’t talk.” Her compliance stirred his cock and a moment later, his timer went off. He gave it a few more seconds before he told her she could turn around. He wanted to make sure the lesson of not moving until told to do so was learned, and it was. He smiled warmly at her. “You did great. I’m so very proud of you. Do you still want that orgasm?”
She nodded her head and between sniffles, she said, “Yes, please.”
“Come.” He led her to the sofa where he spread out a towel for her on the leather surface and he guided her to sit. She winced in pain when her weight settled on her backside, just as he meant it to. He adjusted the spreader bar to remove her pants and set her legs a little wider apart. “Let’s get your carapace off, shall we?” She nodded her head and watched his motions carefully as he gripped the golden cup and removed it with ease. Her lips parted in surprise at how simple it was for him.
“Where is my hair?”
He grimaced. “Actually, I removed it. I should have asked you first and I apologize for that. I’ll make it up to you, though, pet.” Quickly redirecting her thoughts away from her missing pubic hair, his fingers dug right into her cleft, massaging her clit. She was drenched.
“Can’t you just unlock me so I can give myself a rub? I know exactly how I like it.”
Ian shook his head. “I need to have much better control of you to leave you unbound when the cup is disconnected.”
Accepting his answer, at least for now, Clara closed her eyes and focused on the sensations between her legs. She coached him on just how she liked to be touched until he had the routine well in hand and she could just sit back and relax. His strong fingers rubbed her button with firm pressure and he inserted the digits from his other hand into her vagina. He was aware from having spied on her search history that she never looked at anal material, which is why he didn’t bother blocking access to her backdoor; and he didn’t approach it today. There’s plenty of time for that later he reminded himself.
The orgasm that her body had been desperate to release for the past week and a half was coaxed from her quickly. Her back arched and her limbs stiffened as waves of pleasure coursed through her.
“You may orgasm, pet,” he said quickly before she finished.
“Holy fucksticks!” she hollered as the pleasure overtook her. Her expression during her orgasm was adorable, he decided. Everything about her was charming and he looked forward to taming her. -And she would need to be tamed. As much as she was warm and caring, she was also stubborn and had a temper.
In the afterglow of a satisfying orgasm, Ian used a warm, soapy washcloth to clean her up and he reattached the chastity cup to her body. With a satisfying suction noise, the magnets engaged and he was sure she was back under his thumb.
“I’d like to be able to give you regular orgasms, pet,” he told her.
“I'd like that too,” Clara admitted, blushing.
“An orgasm is a privilege. They are entirely dependent on your behavior.” He pulled something from his pocket. “One more thing,” he said and depressed the button of the medical device, delivering the cocktail of drugs he knew would knock her out. "You're mine now."
She looked confused and he knew she wouldn’t remember him administering the medication or falling asleep. He gave her a kiss on the forehead as he scooped her up. He carried her down to his basement where a personal sized platform like the one he had in his laboratory had been set up. He stepped up onto the smooth, blue, illuminated surface with Clara in his arms and he activated the transportation device.
Clara's Story - Part 1
Re: Clara's Story - Part 1
It lacks details ! the story go too fast for all that's happenning ! I wish there were 3/4 chapter so we take the time to understand everything .
It's very interesting , a bit surprise by the sf part .
It's very interesting , a bit surprise by the sf part .
Re: Clara's Story - Part 1
I thought it might be going a bit fast. I got similar feedback from a dear friend, too. I'll slow it down a bit for part two. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!