Nut and Bolt (1)

So far, I have always written about the few D/s experiences I have lived personally. This story is the first one I write as a fantasy that I would like to realize; but it is based on conversations via chat and phone with someone real.

Listening to: Más Sexy - COZ - 1979

He told me that his AVE (high-speed train) would arrive at Atocha at 8:30 PM that Friday in August. And there I was, half an hour early, sweating like a pig in the heat of the Madrid summer and nervous at the prospect of a whole weekend serving a possessive and controlling male, the sweetest and most persuasive male I had ever met. I had to be in Madrid on Monday morning for work, so I was arriving on Friday to let loose a bit and do some "tourism."

I recognized him immediately upon exiting the arrivals hall. We had exchanged photos during a month of long conversations, first in a dating app chat, and later by phone. He was dragging a rather large wheeled suitcase and carrying a laptop bag. I stepped forward to greet him. “-Hello, Carlos, I’m Rafa…”

He extended a large and vigorous hand, which I shook firmly. His whole face was a smile, pure affection. But his voice sounded imperative: “You carry the suitcase, I’m tired.” I obeyed.

-“It weighs a ton! What do you have inside? You're only going to be here for a weekend…”

-”I brought you some little gifts, you’ll see them soon. Are you excited, Chocho?”

-”Very much, Don Carlos”

In our previous conversations, we had established those code names. He was the Male, Don Carlos. And I was the female, the little whore, Chocho.

Until I met him, I had never fantasized about the topic of feminization; he filled my head with images of female holes and male drills, nuts and bolts that complement and mutually need each other. I have to clarify that I don’t have any feminine traits, and neither my face nor my body comes off as feminine at all. It is true that I don’t have much body hair and that my breasts are round and fleshy, with large, very sensitive nipples. But I’m over 1.90m tall, which moves me quite far from the ideal image of a woman.

Don Carlos and I took a taxi out of the station and, shortly thereafter, we checked into the room he had booked at a central hotel, a comfortable and modern four-star establishment, but discreet and suitable for unconventional couples.

Apart from my master's large wheeled suitcase, I didn’t carry any luggage. Just a light backpack with toiletries, as Carlos had instructed me. His instructions were precise: no change of clothes, not even underwear, well-shaved torso, and especially pubic hair, no deodorants or colognes.

We entered the room, him leading the way, inspecting the facilities, and I followed behind with the suitcase. “Where should I put it, Don Carlos?” “Right there, on the bench.” He left his laptop on a side table and, without looking at me, approached the suitcase, opened it, and took out a package exquisitely wrapped in gift paper with a pink bow decorating it. “It’s for you, Chocho. A beginner's gift.”

He handed it to me, and I began to open it, nervous. It was a white teddy bear with a mouth, little belly, and pink paws, along with a matching pink leather collar. Adorable. “Thank you, Don Carlos!” - I managed to say, astonished at such a cheesy thing. “There’s more, Chocho, look in the belly!”

The pink belly hid an inner compartment. I reached in and pulled out another small package with a pink bow. “Open it, Chocho, it’s for you.” I did, and I discovered the device that would enslave me over the weekend: A beautiful, rosy, and totally cute chastity cage.