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Deconstructed pt II - 8/15/2017 7:10:36 PM   

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Joined: 7/21/2009
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Part 2
seeking EXTREME 24/7/365 slave
Single White Male, 55, not in a vanilla relationship, seeking inferior, subhuman female for long term, full time slavery. This is the real deal. No games, no lies, no rights, no limits. No bullshit. I am a total life-style Master, seeking a true 24/7/365 slave. I am not young, handsome, or rich. I require complete submission, and I demand absolute obedience. I can give slave what it truly needs. Complete objectification and total dehumanization. Pain, humiliation, degradation. Full denial, no touch. Obviously, this this is not a relationship for just any slave, but for the right slave, willing to be made over into My perfect thing, this could be the chance to stop fantasizing and start living the dream. I am 100% for real, slave should be too.
She sucked in her breath as her cunt immediately flooded. She had been browsing the personal ads on Craigslist, not even hopefully, just bored.
And there it was. She read the ad again, her cunt literally dripping! ....inferior subhuman…drip…total slavery, pain, humiliation…drip…no rights, no limits…DRIP!
Of course, he was probably full of shit. All the “Doms” she had met, online and in real life, were pussies. They were youngsters, kids, who had no idea what they were doing, amateurs that couldn’t master a puppy. Middle age geeks who had memorized every word in every Gor novel. Fans of Fifty Shades of Grey. Older men, divorced and looking for something different, wanting here to know that everything was safe, that they would respect her limits. Or still married, but very discreet.
Still, this man didn’t try to soften his ad, didn’t try to pretty it up. He laid it all out, said exactly what he wanted. Yeah, he was probably a wimp, or a fake, but still.. Still, what’s a girl to do? She did, realistically, the only thing she could do.
She answered the ad.

They started emailing back on forth on Craigslists server, of course. Then to each others personal email addresses. In one of her first emails, she had called him Master. He had immediately corrected her. She was not (yet) a slave. She had not submitted to him, not been collared by him. More importantly, he had not yet accepted her as his slave. She needed to be tested, she needed to be trained. And then tested some more. And then maybe, maybe, he would accept her service, she could call him Master. Until then, she would call him Sir.
In the same email, he had explained that he was serious about his slave being an object, completely de-humanized. A thing. His slave would refer to itself only as “slave” or “it”. Of course, it wasn’t his slave yet. Until it was collared it would simply be “thing” and “it”.
Of course, she… it… agreed. Immediately.
Sir told it that every command would be answered with “Yes Sir, thing hears and obeys. Thank You Sir”. it immediately texted back. “Yes Sir, thing hears and obeys. Thank You Sir.” Sir emailed it his number, ordered it to text him. Its first text was, of course, “yes Sir, thing hears and obeys. Thank You Sir.”
it asked questions, and questions, and questions. How would it be treated, where would it sleep, how would it make Sirs money? Sir answered all its questions in detail, asking none in return. Once it asked Him if He had any questions for it. He didn’t, and it was surprised. Not one question?
“No,” He said. “Not one question. I don’t care. I don’t care about its history. I don’t care about its opinions, its dreams, its fantasies. I just don’t give a fuck.”
it asked if it could buy Him a coffee. Or a drink. Or dinner.
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