My cock leapt and my heart started pounding with excitement as soon as I saw the name on the screen. Sir was calling me! Barely able to breathe, I put the phone to my ear. "My house. Tomorrow.9 am. Don't be late. You know what will happen if you are." That was all he said before he cut the call. He didn't give me a chance to speak. He never did. I had nothing important to say anyway. Only Sir's words were important. Only he had the right to speak and to think. He had taught me that the first night we met. I had forgotten the lesson only once. He made sure I never did so again. I barely slept that night, I was so happy. Sir had not called me for over two months and I had grown terrified that he was going to abandon me. I had been so desperate I had gone so far as to call him, something he had told me never to do. He came to my door less than an hour later. He said nothing when he saw me. He didn't need to. The slap that knocked me off my feet said everything that needed to be said. He left me lying on the floor crying like the whiny little bitch I have become and ever since I had become convinced I would never hear from him again. I wasn't always like this. I'd always thought of myself as 100% straight and I had always acted accordingly, swaggering drunkenly around town filled with macho bluster and shagging any girl I could get. I'd made jokes about gays and sissies and bullied and humiliated any who crossed my path. I considered myself all man. The truth was that I was in denial. I told myself that when I looked admiringly at my mates it was just because they were good friends. There couldn't be anything sexual in it, even if my cock got hard sometimes when we were pressed against each other in the pub. When I looked at ladyboy porn, I told myself I was looking at their beautiful faces and lovely tits, not their cocks. When I day-dreamed about cock, even when I was fucking a hot girl and imagined being her, I did my best to blank the thoughts and the memory from my mind. I was in denial but Sir put an end to all that. He made me realise my true nature and better still he made me accept and embrace it. He did that by making me his woman. Sir, like many others from his native Pakistan, is a taxi driver. That's how I met him. Coming home late at night from a party, I had lost my wallet. I couldn't pay his fare. We quarrelled. I called him a racist name. He dragged me from the cab and threw me to the ground then told me I was going to pay him one way or another. That was when he unbuckled his trousers and pulled down his zip. I didn't put up even a token resistance. The minute I saw his big, brown circumcised cock, I scrambled to my knees and began sucking it just as so many women had sucked mine in the past. His cock was my first but he told me later, in a rare tender moment, that I had sucked him off like a real pro. Sir was not tender in any way. He was much stronger than me and his hands were rough and calloused. He pulled hard on my fine long hair and slammed his cock in and out of my mouth so hard that I almost choked. I loved the feeling of being in his power, of being at his service. His cum was delicious too. He made sure I swallowed every drop. He did not fuck me that night. He was too busy for that. He simply ordered me to write down my name, address , telephone number and email address then got back into his cab. Before he left he had me lick the dirt off his shoes in penance for my racist remark and then he drove off leaving me still kneeling on the pavement. That night I wanked myself to sleep and came harder than I had ever come in my life. Early next morning, my mobile rang. I was ordered to take the day off work. Sir was coming to visit me and I had better be naked when he arrived. I suppose I could have told him where to go and that would have been the end of it but I didn't. After tasting his wonderful cock, all I wanted to do was please him. He made me wait three hours sitting naked on my sofa before he finally rang my doorbell. It was all part of his way of establishing who the dominant partner in our "relationship" was. He made me kneel on the floor while he spoke. He began by asking me a simple question: was I prepared to be his fuck slave, yes or no. He had known the answer before he asked me but he wanted to hear me say it out loud. "Yes!" I almost shouted out "I want to be your white fuck slave! I want to spend the rest of my life serving and pleasing you!" He laughed and told me how pathetic I looked begging on my knees for a chance to serve his cock. More questions followed. He had not yet agreed to take me as his slave. I has to be sure I met his requirements. I had to give him a detailed account of my sexual and medical history and show him the results of my most recent medical examination before he was kind enough to order me into the bedroom. He fucked my arse as hard as he had fucked my mouth, pulling my hair back and slapping me as he grew increasingly excited. He called me all sorts of names as well; whore, slut and bitch being his favourites. Once he had taken my virginity, he sat down on the bed and ordered me to kneel down and clean his cock off with my mouth. It was then that he laid down the rules that would define our relationship. I would always refer to him as Sir, nothing else. He was my master now and I would have to remember my place at all times. I was never to speak to him unless he gave me permission and I was never to make any suggestions or take any initiative regarding our relationship. My job was just to obey, nothing else. If he wanted a fuck, a blowjob or a handjob, he would call me and tell me when and where. If he needed relief, I had to drop whatever I was doing, including work, and attend to him at once. I should never, ever contact him even if I was desperate for sex myself. My pleasure was no longer of any importance unless it came from serving him. I was Sir's property now and my body belonged exclusively to him. I had to swear to give up women and to stop looking at other men. From now on, I would only be fucked by him and whoever else he might loan me to. I was just a toy now, not a man and the sooner I accepted that the better. Sir also told me that he wanted me to keep my body free of hair from that day on and to act in a more feminine manner when I was with him. He didn't want to think of me as a man but as a woman and if I wanted to please him then I would get rid of my most masculine attributes. He started the process that very day by calling me Michelle rather than my given name of Michael. From then on, that was the name he and all his circle referred to me by. Sir was hard again. He asked once more if I still wantedto be his slave despite his conditions. I answered by clambering on to the bed and spreading my arse cheeks wide for my Pakistani Master. He didn't say another word, just fucked me and left the house. Despite his lack of tenderness, I was his forever. For the next year, everything was great. He called me several times each month, so often in fact that I had no time in my life for anything else. Little by little, I cut myself off from all my friends. I no longer went clubbing and I certainly never slept with any girls. Outside the office, I spent my nights and days alone, my only thoughts being how to please Sir and his cock. Sometimes he came to my flat but only ever for a quick fuck and never to stay the night. Most often, I sucked or wanked him off in his cab. If he had time, he liked to take me into the country and fuck me in the woods. I also visited his house a lot and sometimes spent whole weekends there, fucking and sucking him till we were both exhausted. Once a month,I had other duties to perform. He would have parties for his male Pakistani friends and I would serve them food and drink wearing a dress or a maid's uniform but no underwear. The men were allowed to fondle me to their heart's desire and I gave blowjobs to whoever demanded one, usually while they were playing cards or watching TV. None of the men ever spoke to me except to snap commands such as "Drink!" "Food!" or "Suck!". I was nothing to them, just a servant to be used however they wanted. I loved serving my Master and I found myself loving serving these other Pakistani men. They all seemed so much stronger, confident and manly than me and it seemed completely right and natural that they should treat me as an inferior. For their part, they seemed to get a real kick out of dominating a white "girly man". This was particularly the case with the older men, those of a similar age to Sir. They were also the roughest in the bedroom whenever Sir allowed them to fuck me. No matter how they treated me, however, and no matter what they asked me to do to them, I obeyed them with a smile and treated them with the same respect I showed Sir. I wantedalways to be the good little slut he wanted me to be. Part of being a good little slut for Sir was being as feminine as I could be for him. I tried my best to speak as softly as possible when in his presence and to walk in a way which suggested femininity but also sluttiness. As I have already mentioned,my body was completely hairless and I wore female clothes when at Sir's house. My clothes were chosen and purchased by Sir's sister. She was a fifty year old widow who lived with Sir (who was himself divorced) and as my "sister in law" she saw herself as responsible for training me to become a good "wife" for her brother. As well as dressing me and teaching me how to speak, walk and treat Pakistani men with the respect they expected, Madame, as Sir had instructed me to call her, applied the makeup Sir expected me to wear. With dark kohl round my eyes, bright rouge on my cheeks and scarlet lipstick on my lips and nipples, I looked exactly like the whore I had become and it was all thanks to my kind Mistress. Sir made me a woman in the bedroom but she made me a woman all over the house. To show my gratitude to Madame, I worked as an unpaid housemaid for her. I cleaned the house on my hands and knees, did the laundry for Sir and Madame and learned how to cook and wait on table for them. For my own meals, I ate their leftovers. I did this work in between bouts of fucking at weekends but also during the week when Sir was on night shift. When Madame was alone, I showed my love and gratitude for her in more intimate ways. I bathed her and brushed her hair, massaged sweet smelling oils into her large, voluptuous body and then I made love to her. I spent hours between her big thighs licking her to multiple orgasms and sucking on her huge tits before fucking her till she came again. Despite being a whore for Pakistani men, I was not more bi than gay and I still desired women. As Madame was the only woman I was now allowed to fuck or even speak to in a non-work environment, she soon began to hold a very special place in my heart. That was my life for just over a year and it was the happiest year of my life. Perhaps you can now understand why I felt so terrible when Sir's calls grew rarer and rarer till he stopped contacting me entirely and Madame also cut off all communication. I knew Sir had had other white slaves before me and I was terrified I had been replaced by someone more handsome and better able to please him. You can understand also the joy I felt when I finally received the summons to his door. I was there at exactly 9am the next day amd my cock was hard even before I rang the bell and the door opened .....