I am a purveyor of female flesh. It=s really the only work I've ever done. I learned it from the ground up, on my own, and eventually became a major player in the procurement and training of slaves. Male and female, though I do prefer the thrill of turning a haughty, college educated, snobby female into a quivering mound of obedient, submissive slave meat willing to do anything for an orgasm. Breaking males is also rewarding, just not as much fun for me, personally. Now that I am preparing for what I hope to be a relaxing and enjoyable retirement, I've decided to put my life history into words. Perhaps others will enjoy my story, and perhaps even learn something from my successes and failures. Paraphrasing the old ADragnet series, the story you are about to read is relatively true. Only the names have been changed to protect the not‑so‑innocent.which may include a few well‑known politicians, businessmen and news makers.



I somehow instinctively knew, even as a child, that my destiny was to hold dominion over women; that I was bred to rule them as much as they were deigned to serve me. Some of my earliest memories, in fact, involved thoughts of domination. In those early years, accessibility was the main issue, and the female most accessible to me just happened to be my twin sister.



Although my actual sexual use of Carolyn didn't begin until around puberty, some of my earliest recollections involve my power over her. We were really complete opposites; I had brown hair and eyes; she was a light blonde with bright blue eyes and fair skin. I grew to over six feet tall, but she stopped at five two. I was demanding, but she was quiet and demure. As long as I can remember, she always deferred to my wishes. Whether it was deciding what movie to go see on Saturday or what to have for dessert, it was always my choice. I always got the last of the ice cream, the best piece of fruit, the largest cookie, and the best seat in front of the television. Whenever I wanted something, she simply complied without argument or hesitation. No matter what the issue was, she always did whatever I wanted. In retrospect, if there ever was such a thing as a born dominant or a born submissive, we were defined by those terms.



When we were younger, I didn't understand her natural submissiveness, and often used coercion to get my way. I=d threaten to destroy one of her favorite toys, or that I was going get her into trouble with some outrageous lie if she didn't comply with my wishes. I never had to actually follow through on any of this, though, as she always acceded to my wishes. The need for intimidation gradually disappeared with time, as my domination over her became a natural condition for us both. Simply put, it was my place to command, and hers to serve.



By the time we entered the third grade, she was completely obedient to me. At home, she followed me like a puppy, eager to do my bidding. If I wanted the television channel changed, or a sandwich or drink from the kitchen, she took care of it while I relaxed on the couch. I never lifted a finger I didn't have to. Carolyn picked up my dirty clothes, cleaned my room, did my chores around the house. I never washed a dish, swept a floor or mowed a lawn unless I wanted to. The only task I kept for myself doing my own schoolwork. Even as early as elementary school, I understood that education was important to success, and in order to learn, I=d need to do my own work. With Carolyn to do my chores, though, I had more time for study and quickly established myself as an outstanding student. She, on the other hand, didn't.



Up until high school, there was absolutely nothing truly sexual about our relationship. Sure, I required that she dress as I wanted her to, but I did that only to display my power over her. Punishment usually consisted of me laying a belt across her ass, or sometimes, making her stand in the corner with her dress pulled up over her head. She didn't really seem to mind either, though.



Ninth grade was the real changing point in our relationship. Towards the end of the school year, I began exploring her budding body in great detail, tweaking, prodding and poking at all her various folds, nooks and crannies. What I=d previously thought of as just a puffy slit between her legs was much more complex.a hole, some flaps of skin, a thing she peed out of, and a little nub at the top of the slit. I discovered how she would shudder if I wiggled my finger inside her; she seemed to like it, so I=d do it from time to time. Sometimes I=d have her play with herself for me. I=d tell her to do whatever felt best, and I would watch and learn. I saw her bring herself to her very first orgasm, splayed out on the kitchen floor. I=d read about orgasms, had even had my own, but this was the first time I=d seen a girl have one.



I wanted her to learn about men, too, so I allowed her to explore my body as well. This, however, was only in the manner of my choosing. I let her look, sometimes touch, but always made sure whatever she did was neither unpleasurable or painful to me. I let her inspect my cock and balls, to inhale the odor of my ass, to kiss and lick me, but tit‑for‑tat didn't apply in all cases. For instance, I regularly stuck a finger or thumb up her ass, but would never, ever let her do that to me.



She had a few fine, silky strands of pubic hair, which I thought looked kind of nice, but decided against allowing her to keep. I somehow knew keeping her hairless would enhance her submissiveness, so I made her lay on the floor with her legs spread, while I pulled them out as they appeared. It sounded painful, and I suppose it was. She flinched a lot and even let out a couple of squeals, but she took it without any real complaint. Later, I=d have her shave daily, and eventually, I=d have it all removed permanently.



I wanted to keep her in her place, submissive and subservient to me, and I thought that one way to ensure this was to humiliate her whenever possible. I began by not allowing her to wear any clothes when we were alone at home. I don=t know whether it had any effect on her submissiveness, but my plan to humiliate her in this manner was an utter failure. Nudity became her natural state, and she was often more comfortable naked than clothed. At times, I even had to remind her to put something on before leaving the house or answering the door. I know that even today she would still prefer to remain naked than wear even the skimpiest of clothes.