She could not believe it. Sometimes she just shook her head and marveled at how dramatically her life had changed in such a short period of time. Why, just a half year ago as their divorce came close to being final, her ex had told her she wasn’t all that hot in bed. But for the last 5 months, she’d been a sexual slave, to a man who told her daily how much she pleased Him.
Her owner told her she was sexy. She had been shy their first time together, despite 7 years of marriage. She’d had little sexual history to pull upon and none in a Dom/sub relationship.
It began innocuously enough. Her ex was constantly out and about and bumping in to her with his latest amor. It seemed the girls were getting younger and bigger busted each time she saw him. It pissed her off. She had wants and needs that had not been met through her marriage as well. Things that “good girls” don’t think about. Dreams of being tied and fucked by someone who took all her choices from her. The occasional glimpse of a website showing girls in intense bondage, serving “masters” with their mouths, their asses, their pussies never failed to make her cunt boil and seep, yet she would quickly delete the website and sit shivering and needy at the computer. She would castigate her self, “good girls don’t look at things like that” but every once in awhile she’d shunt out of her email program and do some surfing on the dark side.
This intense, throbbing need in her broke free one night. She was alone, lonely, and feeling very sexually needy. Curtains drawn tight, she went to her computer and began openly reading blogs, viewing those nasty websites. She needed an outlet, and she needed a complete break from her former lifestyle.
She ached so after each viewing. Seeing all those bondage girls, knowing she wanted to be in their shoes, drove her to continue to research about her needs, her wants and her dark imaginings. She worked relentlessly at finding out about them; the need to be beaten, to submit, to be forced to another’s will. She discovered that, while she might be a freak, she was not alone! That in itself helped mitigate the hurt of the last few months. There were others out there like her! Women and men who enjoyed being tied up, lashed, fucked, giving up total control to another. A Dominant.
She posted a profile on the BDSM Chatsite. And one day, she received a note from a Master. He asked her about that ” interesting profile ” she had posted. “Vanilla, wanting to try some other flavors.”
When she answered his reply, she danced between hope, and fear. What would he say? What would she do? Would they “click” ? Would He understand her needs? Or was he just interested in the new kid on the block, someone to take out his frustrations on? Would he think she was too old? To chunky in the middle? To saggy in the tit?
All her worry was for naught, as He was well-mannered, kind, and safe. ..to a point! He had her sign a contract, obligating them to a 6 month trial period. Thus far, it had worked out well, as He began coaxing her from her vanilla life into the intense world of bondage, sexual servitude, and shared kink.
She liked dressing like a slut. The short skirts, the brief tops humiliated, even while they titillated. Coming into the sex shop He owned and operated was always hard when she was dressed as His slut. Often He would have her come into the shop during peak hours, and she would be oogled relentlessly, followed up and down isles, and propositioned. He would watch her perform her task, walking slowly up and down every aisle. Eventually He would pull her into His office, and would fuck her face. Her knees would ache, her lips would swell and bruise from His violent usage, but her heart would thrill, her body respond to his needs and use of her.
She was His to use as He so chose, His to be fucked at His beck and call.
When her phone rang at 830 a.m. she was already into her morning chores. She’d walked, showered, cleaned the bathroom, and was just starting to tidy the kitchen after a brief breakfast. She looked at the readout. Her Master!
“Good morning, Sir!”
“Good morning slut. We have a date tonight. I want you to meet me at the store at 730. Dress…very provocatively. I want to see my slut shine. Wear the black stiletto’s that I got you two weeks ago.”
“May i wear panties, Sir?” she certainly hoped so. Her slut skirts were so short that if she bent at all she showed the world her charms.
“Something sinful, yes.” He chuckled.
“Panties like that aren’t really panties at all, Sir, ” she responded with a grin in her voice.
“Panties like that show Me that you are an obedient, wanton slut.”
“If i am, it’s because You made me, Sir.”
She heard the smile in His voice.
“See you tonight, slut.”