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Subject: {ASSM} The Martyrdom of Sherry (NC, Bdsm, blackmail)
Date: Thu, 11 May 2000 04:10:05 -0400
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This is a story by a young lady that introduced herself to me after
reading my last story, Rebecca Mine, which will be back soon with
Chapter 9.  I think she is a real talent that needs just a little
encouragement to blossom. Her name is Sherry Nettles and you may email
her at  sherry_85@hotmail.com  I will post more of her stories over the
next little while.

The Martyrdom of Sherry

I should start at how this all began, but first let me tell you that
before this all happened, I was a successful professional making a
comfortable living. My Husband and I had one child, and we were very
stable in our lives. At 28, I had sewed my "wild oats" pretty quickly
the way normal people do, you know went to a few clubs and danced in my
early 20's, or go to the beach and wear something that you know your
parents would not approve of, but now I was like many people of my
generation, settling into adulthood. No, I wasn't watching "touched by
an angel" and in bed by 7pm, and I wasn't playing bridge with the
Mertz's on Saturday nights. It's hard to really explain it without any
way to give you an example. My life wasn't like a soap opera on
Television, and it wasn't "boring", but it didn't offer a lot of
surprises. When I think back on it now, it was so safe, and so
comforting.
I work with computers all day; I am not a tecie or anything. I just do a
lot of word processing in my profession. It's not important what my job
title was or where I worked. Let's just say it was my "other life" and I
prefer not to go into too much detail about it. At work I learned about
the Internet, and I often over heard the geeky tech head guys talk about
the weird stuff that you could find on the web. The guys at my job were
all pretty much perverted, I know that they liked to stare at me, and I
would enjoy giving them a wicked glance to let them know not only did I
KNOW they were looking at my butt, but that I didn't appreciate the
stare. Most of them quickly backed down. Not because they were afraid of
getting in trouble, but for the most part, because they really didn't
have that much backbone under all those facades. Couple this with the
fact that most of them were still kid's at hart, never maturing. They
wore "Atari 2600" T-shirts to work, and most of them had a Star Wars,
Spawn, or Dilbert action figure at their desk. Hey, I have to admit I
like Dilbert, but a man wearing a "Dilbert Tie" to work, just seems like
a walking billboard flashing "Hey, I am a boy! Please ignore me".
The only reason I mentioned the geeks, was that my husband was also a
geek.  He liked to stay up late at night and play computer games, and he
showed me the web and how to do a few things. Since we only had the one
PC at home, and since he was sort of selfish, even though he was well
intentioned, and tried to show me how to do chat on ICU or IRQ or
whatever that program was, I was really not into it. I took one look at
all the names in a chat room, and assumed that they were all computer
geeks pretending to be something they were not. They had names like
"Master of Dogs" and "M/W/DM25/ISOsF/W/ICQ" or some long string of codes
that apparently meant something to some body, and I remember thinking
"God, I bet none of them ever get laid."
They had these giant pictures that posted everytime they said anything,
as if seeing it once wouldn't be enough. I immediately assumed that
their giant ego's were overcompensating for something they must lack
physically or mentally. They would say cute little short remarks like
"H/hello A/all" and "S/soft S/smile", and it had this feel of some kind
of dungeons and dragons fairy tale thing. It didn't make sense, and it
sure didn't seem interesting at first.
Then I saw the women's names, "painslut anna", like a woman would WANT
to be a painslut? I thought "hey, why doesn't she just go stand out in
the street naked, and get hit by a car. Then she can get all her sex and
pain at the same time?" What bothered me was that as a logical thinking
person, the motivations that the names suggested just didn't make sense.
All of these Barbie-doll blow up sex girls who were aggressively seeking
sex, with men with names that were either "Sweet, Gentle Master" (what
kind of master is sweet?) or "I really need it bad, please, please
please.." or something.  I can't understand men who think they can guilt
a woman or beg a woman for sex, and think that some how was going to
turn us on? And I should say "sex" because that's what this was all
about. There was probably people talking about the weather, music or
philosophy, but what I saw the first time was a giant sex industry. It
was really safe and although it was lame, the fact that I was bored, led
me to sit there with my husband try telling him to say this or that to
other people.
They showed pictures in these rooms, and even though at first I was kind
of jealous that he was apparently spending some of his time not
conquering his little worlds or building simcitys, but in here looking
at these pictures.  I always thought men went for playboy photo's, of
big breasted bimbo's airbrushed to perfection, standing there with a
look of total "fakeness" on their face. Instead though I noticed that
there was different kind of porn, and A LOT of it. I probably don't need
to tell you, but it was a revelation to me that there were men who got
off on some of this stuff, and women willing to pose for it, and not
just fringe looking girls, there were old ones, young ones, fat ones,
skinny ones, and women who either didn't care or had no choice but to
pose in the most disgusting and humiliating ways possible. Unlike men
who were looking at these pictures for the sheer thrill of it, I was
looking at them and wondering "what is the story behind this picture?" I
saw a bigger picture, that maybe some one out that was making this
pictures (and I wondered how much money did they make, since this was
all free over the web), why is this girl allowing this to happen or
doing this to her own self?"
I saw the pictures of bondage and tied up women, looking like victims,
and realized that maybe they had been posed this way, and that they were
willing to do the photo, knowing they would be untied, so the pictures
didn't thrill me. Then I noticed a trend of women were apparently just
"sluts" or really extroverted and wanted to show off their bodies, but
if you look closely at their faces, you can see some other motivation.
They looked sad, or bored, or even fake smiling! I started to think well
maybe there is guy blackmailing them into playing a twisted little game,
and if they can get away with posing nude in front of all these rednecks
at a rodeo, then they win their little bet and can go back to their
normal lives...and I figured what better way to convince people it's okay
to be naked and in public, is to put a fake smile on and pretend to like
it! Or to like whatever abuse was being dished out in the photo.
So after we put our daughter to bed, (she was just a baby) I would get
online with him some nights instead of going to sleep by myself, and we
would joke about the stupid names people used, and the idiots who came
on and posted the exact same line to every single girl. I pictured some
total dork-guy in a bar who went up to every girl in a bar, and asked
the same lame pick up line "Hey baby, how bout some?" or whatever. Even
within hearing distance of the next girl, walks up and says the same
exact thing.  So naturally, because of my personality (I am a Taurus), I
felt obliged to tell these men the error of their ways. They never
understood, because apparently someone would bite, if they through out
100 lines. I just thought it was pretty lame, and made me think that
these people were still living in a fantasy world.
We would go into ridiculously named rooms (obviously by a man) like
"analopolis" apparently, a place for people seeking anal sex, now let me
ask you, when did you ever hear a woman go around looking for anal sex?
Apparently though on here the women often outnumbered the men 2-1, and
they all had names like "Buttslut Jill" and "rape me", which made no
sense either, how could it be rape if you asked them to do it? It seemed
to just scream that these were all really lame fantasies and things that
men found sexy, but they were not designed for women, or if they were,
they sure were not designed for me. So some one asked if we wanted to
"cyber", I wasn't really interested but we didn't have any body to make
fun of or do, so we said yes. The other person started it out like "So,
you are sucking my cock, and I...." And that's when he lost me. I wasn't
interested in this. It was awkward enough for my husband here with me
while we both decided what we were going to say next. Apparently I was
supposed to reply "mmmmm" or "oh yes" in between him saying, what he
probably says to every woman he does this with. It was a huge turn off,
I mean here I was wondering who he was supposed to be? How did I know
him? Why do I do this with him? Whenever I tried to do this "cyber" I
made the same mistake of asking the man to make sense. I type really
fast, and that would intimidate the hell out of them too. I picture them
grunting while they type with one finger and a knotted brow, there short
little "I stick it in" type of sayings. That or I "Asked too many
questions" it was too hard for their little craniums to actually picture
who I was supposed to be and where we were. Or if they did say it was
"okay, I am Jim, you are my neighbor, and you came over to my house to
seduce me." It gave me cold chills, to think that these men expected me
to act like somebody I am not and play this sort of idiot who was so
hard up for sex, she would do it with whoever or whatever.
Over the next few months, I would give it another try. I had a few
"successes" where it was funny or "different", men wanting to be woman
who wanted to be ducted taped or whatever, I kind of took out my
frustrations on geeky men out on them, but they took all the fun out of
it, by enjoying it. I couldn't picture them really being humiliated,
because they wanted it so badly to be in front of a bunch of WOMEN
(almost never in these peoples fantasy worlds do other men exist, and if
they do, they are all basically "that same guy, just a different name".
Most of the time the fantasy could never really happen anywhere but a
room with just the two people. It was like a movie with only one set, I
felt like they were so limited, in that there were so many places these
little role plays could take you, in your mind. I mean they surprised me
with classrooms, or doctors offices, but it was always "After hours" and
behind closed doors, so it was just another `bedroom" as far I was
concerned. It was kind of boring, but usually me and my husband had
pretty decent sex after we did this together, and it was sort of fun to
have something to do besides sit there and watch TV.
I picked a little chat name, it was "Lez Chat", like a play on words,
like "Let's Chat?" except it was supposed to be girl-girl. I was not Bi
or had any lesbian fantasies, but I knew that was a huge turn on to all
men, and my husband was no exception. Since I am a real woman, when
other women would ask me these "questions" to see if I was fake or not,
about a pap smear, or the size one buys pantyhose in, to see if I was
really a woman, I passed with flying colors. So I was able to see that
while the women did have more creativity, they were usually either named
~wood nymph~ and everything was some kind of cheese that reminded me of
a hallmark card, with sunsets, flowers, champagne, and I can not begin
to tell you how boring and how goofy that felt to me. That or they were
so used to being with guys on there that they didn't say anything, they
just sat there and wanted you to do all the talking, and would reply
"mmmmmm" and "oh yes....".  They seemed to understand my need to know who
the other person was, and I found I sort of liked to make up a little
story. The pictures had already had an effect on me on the web, because
I was becoming jaded by seeing bootie sex or women sucking off dogs. I
had never ever considered doing such a thing in real life, and it's a
funny story, but what probably put me off sex as a teenager is the first
real wiener I ever saw was our dogs. It looked like a little lipstick
and grossed me out. I thought real boys had the same things. Anyway, at
this point, I was able to make up pretty interesting little stories to
set the scene. I tried to make up different ideas each time, and it
really was boring to do it all alone. I liked it if the other person
would take my idea, get inspired by it, and then say "okay, here is how
it is" and put a different spin on it, to mix our ideas.  Then there was
less predictability.
One thing men like is "School Fantasies", they all know this simple
porno plot: A slutty girl in an ALL-GIRLS (remember, they can't handle
having more than one guy in the fantasy) school seduces them from the
front row, apparently because she absolutely has to have this totally
sweet and nice, man. It seemed like a really lazy-mans fantasy, because
all he had to do was act like himself, and pretend not to notice while
the girl has to come on to him, and then when she makes it so
overwhelmingly obvious, the guy says "Okay, lets fuck" (in a private
office, that is conveniently locked during school hours or something).
There was no chase, I mean...what women wants to hunt down this guy and
beat him over the head with her suzi? We are the ones who are supposed
to be chased, I think we have a hormonal need to have an aggressive man,
because of something in the "Survival of the Fittest", but Human Nature
such as it is, is so complex that as a species we can ignore that
hormone or even have gone the opposite direction. I guess that's why
there are so many gays and sex changes in the world.
Anyhow, I changed my named from Lez Chat, to teachers pet. Sure it's a
stereotype of a name, and at the time I didn't think about what I was
doing in chat as a real hobby, so it was no big deal. I wasn't thinking
"Gosh, this will be the name I use online, and people will think all I
want is that `School Fantasy' plot. True to my nature as a Taurus
though, having picked the name I wasn't really interested in changing
it. I just kept it.  I started to make a few regular friends on the web,
and even got to do it by myself when my husband was tired over the next
few weeks. He wasn't jealous, after all we weren't "Wife-swappers", we
were just having a goof.
So I don't want to go into every negative story about chatting that
happened, suffice to say I spent time with quite a few losers, till I
started to figure out how to see if someone was going to be a bore right
off the bat, and then I was starting to do these fantasies where I
wasn't sure that I could picture myself quite in the situation but there
was some small thrill, some small risk. It was usually something pretty
simple, but I'd get the man to understand that if he wanted to chat with
me, he wouldn't have to look at me as "some work he was doing, in order
to get to the cyber part", but that I was willing to talk some sexual
chat, but that it shouldn't be the same old thing. That they would have
to give me a sort of background, as to who we are, where we are, and who
all else was in this. I guess the very first fantasy I had that was a
sudden realization of my kink was pretty simple.
The guy was a man of few words, but I suppose watching the pictures in
the rooms anyway, I had already set the scene in my mind. Apparently I
was a model hired by some group to come to a school and model nude for
an anatomy class. I could picture this, and I could picture how I would
feel never having done it before, but thinking what was the risk since I
didn't know anyone at this college, and maybe the money was really good.
I mean, it is "just the body", so I went along with the idea.
Instead of college, he said that I had been misinformed and that it was
a high school class and that everyone had signed permission slips
allowing them to view this course of study. I had a tough time at first
picturing any school opening itself up to this risk, but then decided
that since was the first interesting idea I had heard, that it could be
justified, maybe someone pushed this through the red tape without
thinking of how it might be thought of by the moral right. Maybe they
were total hippies who thought "hey man, body beautiful, when I cut my
hair and graduate college, I will get a job as a school principal, and
when I am part of the establishment, institute free love classes and be
cool to all the fishes in the deep blue sea and...." Or whatever those
60's idealist's think.
OR maybe the teacher was a sadist, and had some how made the permission
slips so generic that the parents signed without reading. The
interesting thing though was that it wasn't just a bunch of turned on
boys, it was also girls in the class who looked jealous or disapproving.
I could really picture that in my mind, walking in just a sheet, infant
of these people and all the different looks people would give you. So he
took his time describing pieces of my body in the nude, and that it was
being videotaped.  It was a bit dry, nothing was happening, I told him I
had to "go to the bathroom", which I meant was real time (They call it
"R/T" on the web, or in your real life). He took it to mean that I had
to do it in the fantasy and he said something that forever shook my take
on the fantasy I played out on the web.
He calmly replied "Oh no, that's not in the contract, we only have an
hour for each class today, if you must go you will have to do it here"
and I suddenly felt like this character in the fantasy. It was like a
sudden explosion. I still don't really know what you call this type of
kink. It's not "Exhibitionism", because exhibitionists get off on the
ego trip of people looking at their naked bodies for fun. I can tell you
that this one mistake on his part is probably the turning point of chat
for me. I was very glad my husband wasn't at the PC when I continued
role playing this situation out. It made sense, and I could picture how
I would respond in that situation, in a room full of teenagers who are
already looking at me naked under the guise of "Science" and he went on
to describe a small sink in the backroom that I would be expected to
squat over. Now at this point, the idea of "Wet Sex" or "Water Sports"
was something I had not really seen yet in the pictures. If I did see a
picture of someone peeing, it was usually something that looked like it
was from the 70's with this trailer park women peeing on some losers
face. Over the next few months though the pictures would get more
graphic and would start to look like these women had been in a similar
situation, having to pee in a bowl on a stage, or having to open their
mouths and take as much as they could. Well, I won't bore you with the
details of the fantasy, and I will leave some mystery as to what my
reactions were. Let me tell you though, for the first time I didn't feel
this was just a novel time waster. I felt the fear, the danger, the
excitement of the moment. It seemed like it could really have happened
to me.
Like most men, he eventually came and when men cum online, they usually
lose all their creative steam and just go "well, then,...we clean up and
you go home" and he left abruptly. Leaving me pretty frustrated because
I wanted to know what was going to happen later. I wanted more
situations like this. Not like those `pain sluts', still as my normal
sense, but what was that feeling of danger all about? It's so hard to
explain. It's like going to a horror movie, you don't want to fast
forward to the `scary part', you like it to build up, to make sense, to
watch as the girl goes running out of the house when the phone rings and
it's the killer. You either put yourself in her place, or you just enjoy
the exciting scenes, but you feel scared. You don't want the actors to
walk up to Freddy Kruegar and go "Oh please cut me up?" you want them to
run for all their worth (knowing of course only the single virginal girl
is going to survive anyway, but in the back of your mind, watching to
see how). So even though you like to be scared, you don't purposely put
yourself in the situation, and go out hunting for terror. I am no sheep
either in real life, I grew up with three brothers, so I know how rough
boys can play, and I know about the gross fart contests and burp
contests and other "stimulating" things an immature mind can think up,
and so I am not some kind of timid little sheep waiting around for a
slaughter either. So the fantasy had thrilled me, because here I had to
do it, because I was under contract, and had gone this far...getting nude
and allowing these things to happen, and the Professor insisted the
company I worked for would be sued if I breached the contract, as the
school had spent a great deal of money to get the program in the first
place, and that I would be sued by my company. In the fantasy that was a
pretty light reason to still take a poop in front of a bunch of kids,
but I could kind of sort see it? I mean it was only money, and surely no
judge would have enforced a suit against someone for saying they won't
poop infant of people. Yet, it had enough "sense" to it that I could get
into it.
So when he left, I spent pretty much ALL night (and had to call in sick
the next day) trying to find someone else who liked to do this
pseudo-medical/pseudo school fantasy and I was very, very unsuccessful
and frustrated. Later I started to get a little sprung on it. I found
guys who could get into something like this (hey, what wasn't to like? A
real woman who you could boss around, and me being clever, coming up
with all these little hooks and ways that they could use against me that
I would suggest, to sort of help them get into that evil mode.) I must
have had quite a few partners, but never anybody really regular. I tried
to even email them, and I did write out that very first fantasy. It
wasn't a really good description, but I had loved it so much, because in
my mind, it was the first time I felt that fear, that ball in my stomach
as I tried to decide what to do. I wasn't tied up to a stake, I wasn't a
pincushion, or on drugs and unaware- I was standing there naked, and I
could have done anything! I could have stormed out of the office or
agreed to do what they said in the role-play. What a neat situation,
everyone should put themselves there to wonder how they would really
react. (well, besides men, who would all probably say "Sure, what the
hell....").
After a few more months of these situations the things I was seeing were
getting a little more twisted and I met Robert. Robert was a very
creative man, and he I didn't ask his age, I didn't care. I stopped
trying to guess if people were what they said they were. I just judged
them by how they presented themselves, and Robert seemed to zoom right
in on what I told you just now. In fact, I didn't really need to tell
him all this for him to understand, maybe he was like me, but only
opposite, he needed to put someone in the situation the professor had in
the role-play, he enjoyed that. He wasn't online a lot, but whenever he
was, I would make sure and get my husband to sleep and come back and
play around with different ideas.  I would have thought he WAS a woman
had he told me so, because he typed well, didn't go for the obvious "I
stick it in you" and he didn't seem to need me to play this willing
little moron fuck doll, who delighted in her own humiliation. I later
decided that men who needed that in their fantasies were basically
spineless, because they couldn't just be "Evil" they had to hide behind
the justification that the girl had asked for it and was getting off on
it. The fact that Robert took a great deal of delight in putting me in
these situations in role-playing, and was even capable of switching
fantasies without getting confused or mixing them up, impressed me. I
didn't really think about his motivations, that maybe Robert had a lot
of r/t anger towards women, and really wanted to get even.  For him, he
would not want to get even with plastic fuck dolls, what challenge was
that? For him, it HAD to be some one nice, prim and proper that would be
falling from grace in front of him. For him, he had to trap someone he
knew, like a teacher, or a coworker, and eventually it became a pervy
younger brother and he was tricking his sister into playing a game of
chance. I wrote stories about these fantasies and sent it to him, but
they were never as good as when I was online playing with him. There was
so much surprise around every corner, wondering what the people who saw
what changes were happening in me in the fantasy was thinking? Because
they didn't know I had been blackmailed into wearing slutty clothes
around the house, they just thought I was a dumb slut or something.
These betrayals by people, who were close to me in the safe world of
chat, were turning me on, and I was spending a bit more time in chat or
at least thinking about chat, then I wanted too!
In fact, I was sitting up late at night with one hand diddling my suzi,
and the other on the keyboard (fortunate for me I type fast), butt naked
till late, late at night. I tried to do these fantasy's with other guys,
but they seldom left me feeling that feeling I was looking for. I
suppose its like going to a Carnival and getting in a roller coaster,
you are attracted to the excitement, the danger, you don't really want
to fall off the damned thing, but feeling like you might at any moment
do that very thing, is part of its attraction. The fact that afterwards
you measure just how good it was, by how queasy and disoriented you
feel, is a sign that I am not as different or weird as anyone else. I
just want my kink like a roller coaster, and if I have to sit there and
explain how each twist and turn was going to go, or road the coaster
before (repeated the same exact fantasy, or predicted what might happen
next) then I would say that it wasn't a very good ride! So many men
would try and make you play their broke ass fantasy that they repeated
every time they were on, or try and make it cheesy like in those old
1970's Emmanuelle movies with the women being so fake and sort of
existing for nothing except sexual pleasure. They started to seem to me,
to be really "Lame" insisting it be "sexy pain", as if some how pain
could be sexy. Insisting it be the way they were used to with the women
going "mmmmm" and "stick it in" while they described how they tied up
the girl. That or the situation was so unbelievable that it made seem
like lame porno plots were "dramatic". It was sort of like the old
commercial where the "Hot" babe pulls up on the desert road to the
loser, asks "Are those bugle boy jeans?" and he says whatever, then she
says "Oh, well want to fuck?" and they drive off while foreigner "Hot
Blooded" is playing in the background. The kind of situation that even
Beavis and Butthead would have a hard time believing was really going to
happen in real life.
What I got from Robert was a situation where I wasn't a pincushion who
was tied up. Essentially just an observer, getting fucked while tied up.
It also made you feel like a "victim" when tied up. That's not what I
wanted to feel. I wanted to feel like I was participating, even though I
didn't want to. It's harder to explain without an example. So here it
is:
A) The Pervy Younger Brother grabs his sister in her sleep, beats her,
ties her up, and fucks her.
B) The Pervy Younger Brother creates so much blackmail on his computer,
all fake, but not just fake nude's, stuff that would be hard to really
deny.  Set her up to look like she shoplifted, get a credit card in her
name and buy all kinds of crazy shit with it, etc. Then he confronts his
sister and gives her a choice, she can either call his bluff and face
the consequences of the blackmail once mom and dad get done with her, OR
since he has seen her naked anyway (having a web cam in her room), she
can take an easy bet, if she wins the bet she doesn't have to play and
he will destroy the blackmail and sign something that says he was
responsible if he ever tries again, but if she loses she HAS to...(And
this is the part that gets me!) follow 10 rules of his choosing for the
next four months, and pick a new rule every day from a list of choices.

Obviously, the second choice thrilled me more. Now I could put myself in
that situation, picture it, and maybe I even have some reason to try and
get away with living under these rules, because if I can't I still get
the blackmail revealed on me or something. Double Jeopardy!!! The first
choice isn't fun at all, I could just go "please stop" if I was awake at
all, and listen to him describe it. Nothing to say, nothing to do.
Then add this into the mix, Choice A is going to be done alone in some
bedroom or when no one is home. Brutalizing me while I am unaware isn't
really entertaining to the family to watch! (unless we are talking about
one of those idiot-guys scenario's, where apparently anyone else in the
story is some kind of pervert, just waiting for a chance to have an orgy
with anyone). The second option on the other hand, represented more
danger, because people who thought I was a nice, normal princess, who
sees me trying to follow these 10 rules, and not able to explain why I
am doing it, are going to think I am crazy, or turning slutty, not
knowing the REAL reason I was doing it. The danger of getting caught, of
explaining a reason like "Oh mom, it's okay if I run around naked in the
house, I am just a kid..no one cares if I am naked, and besides you both
know what I have down-there..." or "well, I am letting my brother train me
because I want to go out for sports, and I read in vogue how pro
athletes work out nude, to target trouble areas....and my brother was nice
enough to say he would help..I am sure this isn't turning him on,
watching my butt jiggle as I waddle around on the porch." These funny
excuses were half the fun to me.  Going out in public places, like a
mall or something was the same thing.
Chapter Two:
Trying to get away with a shred of dignity.
So, these things were happening in my mind. I am sure my husband was
starting to regret teaching me about the web, because having found what
I liked, I showed no interest in learning anything else. Just the web
site that I could do chat at, and hot mail. That was it. I wasn't
interested in "Harnessing the Power of The Web to enrich my life" or
anything like that.  I didn't need it to set my VCR or update me on
stock tips, I wasn't looking for up to date information on anything. I
just had fun with role playing these really awkward and dangerous
situations. I especially liked it when the situation was such that even
Robert had some risk. That meant that just getting me to agree to the
indignity of playing the game wasn't enough, but beating me at this game
and risking something to himself was important. I really read a lot into
the situation.
What Robert also gave me was about to come, and this "surprise" was
something that was going to ALSO change my life forever.
I cannot remember exactly how long ago it was, but it still burns in my
memory. My husband (I am forbidden to ever use his name, in case you are
wondering why I don't tell you much about him), and I had gone out. I
could tell he was thinking that we needed to get out and do something
different, maybe because I had stuck up the keys on the PC Keyboard with
my body-juice, and he was worried that I was getting more out of that,
than five minutes of being pumped like a rabbit with him. So, Yes I was
definitely going some where else in my mind, some place outrageous.
Seeing the nasty pictures on the web, more and more made me think
thoughts I would never have had. I wasn't WANTING bad things to happen
to me in my fantasies, I guess the fact that they were anyway, was the
big draw. If you have ever watched "Lifetime Network" the women in the
movies always seem to be normal, and then their husband betrays them and
that's how they go to prison, or the fact that they were out walking
home alone one night, and then they end up in the white slave trade. The
only difference really in my fantasies, was that I was the star and that
there was no really happy ending like on LMN.
I was taking Dolcett pictures out of context and picturing how a fantasy
might go with those pictures. If you don't know what his pictures are,
they are really excellent drawings, but the women are generally
captioned saying the most unlikely thing like "Oh you want to kill me
and your friends eat me off a roasting fire? Well...okay, but how about
after this episode of Jeopardy, they are in the final round." Or "Gosh,
I guess so. I have always wanted to be butchered, I was just hoping
someone would ask.". It's a guy thing how that even makes sense, but you
can take away those captions, and put your own ideas in there, and
well....you got some wicked, and yes, violent fantasies. Mine were never
about the end happening. I mean, who cares about
that....fade-to-black-your dead, the end. Mine just had gotten over a
period of months to involve the chance that you might have to allow
yourself to be physically altered by surgery to suit them or killed, if
you didn't follow those rules. Rules are a big thing to me. As a Taurus,
I am a believer in rules, if you agree to follow them, you don't break
them. It made sense to me.
Well anyway, I could rattle on and on about what I was getting into, and
why my kink makes sense to me. I was telling you though about that one
evening. We had gone out to Dinner, and had been drinking. I was
driving.  As you might guess from the statements "We had been drinking"
and "I was driving", what any sane person thinks "Oh you crashed?". Yes
we did. It never occurs to you when your drunk though, you feel like
that's only going to happen to other people. You are insulated from real
pain, from real tragedy. That just happens on the news. We were both
adults, who have the power to travel anywhere, the strength to do
antyhing we desire. The masters of our own destinies! And yet, that
night, crashed into a tree alongside a road, I was unable to do
anything. I was just lying there. Next to my dead Husband.
I wasn't really hurt though, and as fate would have it, within 2 miles
from my home. I heard some where that accidents happen primarily within
2 miles of your house, because I saw a comedian Steven Wright I think
once say "That's why I never go within 3 miles of my house".
Comedienne I guess I Am not. Anyway, I walked home, battered and bloody
from the accident, to call the police and an ambulance. There was no one
out on the road, it was late at night, and it had been a twisty little
back road that stretched behind an outlet mall. This was not "sexy pain"
like those guys described. This was the kind you feel with little bits
of gravel and sand cutting into your skin.
When I got home, I realized that I could get arrested for driving drunk.
I had left his body on the passenger side, and I was definitely not
sober. I didn't need to go the hospital, and in his condition, neither
did he. My mom was babysitting until tomorrow, and I sat and thought for
a few minutes in a drunken haze. Let me also say about fantasies, a lot
of guys are into "mind control" fantasies. That's the lazy way out, they
want you because your drunk, stupid, drugged or hypnotized like a zombie
to do what they say. I figured why not just by a plastic fuck doll? I
mean, having not chosen to follow the "rules" but being hypnotized, was
worse than just being tied up, because now you not only have no choice,
but you are so out of it, you don't even feel the horror of having to do
these nasty things. I don't know how men can get into those fantasies,
except to say that they aren't as concerned with the "why" as much as
the "what happens when she is drunk".
Anyhow, at this point I was still drunk, but sobered the way you
instantly get sober when you crash or get stopped by a cop, you sober up
some. I decided to call Robert and ask his advice. I had NEVER done
phone sex.  In fact, I refused, absolutely refused to call anyone I met
on the web. Guys will do all kinds of things with your phone number when
they have it. As a married woman especially I couldn't risk that! I
didn't need phone sex, and if a guy needed me to prove who I was, I just
found a different guy. I stopped caring what people were on the web, if
they were men or women, I just judged them by what they said they were,
and how they acted. If a guy had my number, there is no telling when
they will call your house. I remember when I was younger (and trust me,
men NEVER really mature), he might call at 2am and every fifteen minutes
after until I woke up. Then say "hey, you `sleep?" to which I would say
"YES!" and then they'd say "Oh, well whatchu wearing?" and I'd say
"listen, I am sleeping now, please call back later...." And then they
would say "hey babe, you horny?" and so on.  Totally selfish, and
unconcerned that just because they are in the mood to talk, that I would
not be, and some how I am a bitch for hanging up on them.
Anyway, Robert had given me his number a while ago and I did write it
down.  Not having anyone else in mind that I felt I wanted to trust with
this information about me crashing my car, I decided to call him. I told
him what had happened, and he asked me what I wanted to do. I really had
no idea. I thought at that time, he would help me out there. He said
that he could fix it, and that he would get on a plane now, and be there
in less than 8 hours.
I didn't really believe it, but figured at the very least, I could wait
till morning to call the cops, saying I was way too exhausted from the
crash to call then. I know that seems cold, to leave your dead husband
out there in the wreck, but hey I wasn't thinking totally straight. It
made sense at the time. Sure enough though, at about 8am, Robert called
from the Airport and said he had rented a jeep, and wanted directions.
I wasn't so sure I Wanted his solution at this point, or for him to know
where I lived. I mean the kinds of fantasies I liked, were dangerous,
and he seemed like a master of them, but after all it was only fantasy.
So I gave him instructions and he came and got me and took me out to the
crash.  Robert didn't look anything like how I pictured him. For some
reason, I had this image of this giant brain attached to a body. He
looked me up and down, an I knew he was thinking about sex, but that was
the farthest thing from my mind. I wasn't sure what he was doing this
for, he never mentioned payment.
Nothing had changed and it didn't seem anybody had noticed. He put on
gloves, carefully moved the body, and then said "Sherry, I am going to
call the cops, you have to climb into the passenger side and lay still,
here is the thing....if you don't want to do it, I completely understand..."
Here is where I Thought he was going to ask for some kind of sex as
repayment, but he said "I need to put a few fresh cuts on you, and then
I am going to knock you out, so that the paramedics who arrive will not
question how you have been out for over nine hours. It's going to hurt,
but not as bad as leaving the scene of an accident, vehicular
manslaughter, DWI, and whatever else they want to add...." I should also
add that Robert is a medical student, and that had been a big theme in
our fantasies, medical stuff...everything from enema's to taking a shot
that made your boobs give milk, getting your suzi lips removed so as to
expose the inside. Weird stuff.
"I can't give you anything for the pain Sherry, because they can't find
anything in your system....do you trust me?"
I did the stupidest thing, fearing the worst, I said "Yes".
I sighed as I got into position, and he took a razor and cut me, tiny
cuts all across my arms, and legs, it didn't hurt, but it scared me when
he scuffed sand and bits of glass over me, but I wasn't really in
danger. Then he knelt down, and without any warning, punched me right in
the face with his hand. I went black. Out cold.
When I awoke, I was in the hospital with an IV in my arm. He was gone,
and my mom and two of my brothers were there. They were smiling. As far
as anyone was concerned, that night my husband had wrecked the car, and
me...I was an innocent passenger, and a lucky survivor. Apparently, Robert
had reported the accident and gone back home without even identifying
himself, I guess on what a person going to medical school has for money,
he could afford a quick plane trip like that.
My mom said she would take my daughter for the time being, and that I
should just rest. After only a few days in the hospital I was released,
and I had about two weeks of Leave of Absence to "recover". The first
week went fine, I did role-play a lot being home then, and wanting to
take my mind off things. I told Robert how it went, and for the first
week, he seemed to have been genuinely pleased that we got away with it.
I told him time and again how he had been a life saver and how much I
appreciated what he had done for me. I even did my best to give Robert
"Phone Sex" since he had knew where I lived now, and wanted it so badly,
but I wasn't good at it.  The way we chatted, role-played didn't work
very well with voices, and Robert might have wanted more of a bubbly
little vixen voice going "mmmm, stick it in my hot red ass, baby" or
whatever they say on 900 lines. I did try, but I know I sure didn't
enjoy it. I doubt he did either.
Then the next week he started chat with "Check your Email."
I did, and there was a "Contract" there. It was written up by him
specifically for me.
I came back to the room and said after scanning over it quickly "What do
you want to do? Is this a new fantasy?"
He said "Nope, this is real. Time to pay for my services....Check your
email again."
This time it was a few scans of me talking to him, then him taking
pictures of me lying in the position unaware of him about to punch me,
but definitely awake, then AFTERWARDS the big shiner on my eye and me
passed out.
I said "Your serious? I could just tell people you attacked me, that I
Was awake..."
And he replied calmly "And then, I would say how do you explain the
calls to your house, the plane ticket, and the picture of me greeting
you at your house? And why you would only mention it now? Oh no....you are
going to read the contract carefully, agree to it, use the video camera
in your house to videotape you reading it out loud and send me that, and
the contract, and you are going to follow the contract carefully, I have
been studying you the last few months, like a butterfly right before
pulling its wings off. I feel like this is an experience you need, and
its what I need. And want.  You will be rewarded with your freedom, the
six pieces of evidence. I think that's fair."
"How do I know, you won't just blackmail me again, or get me up there
and change the rules?" I replied quickly.
He was prepared for this, because in my chats I had always wanted some
sort of goal or guarantee. I had always insisted that the fantasy make
sense, that it not just be something where I am a pain slut who wants to
be used and abused forever, and he used this knowledge against me.
Instead of saying "You don't" and giving me a perfect reason to take my
chances he said "I can't give you any proof, just my word. I want you to
consider something though, I know where you live, if I wanted to I could
bust in and kill you while you sleep...or worse." I wasn't sure what he
meant was worth than death, but then he added "If you came to me, and I
didn't hold up my end, then you have no more reason to keep trying. I
know you, your stubborn ways, you'd be absolutely no fun if I changed
the rules or tried to keep something back so that I could blackmail you
again. You're going to come up and follow the rules in the contract, and
I know this, and it will be very pleasant to see your stuck up ass shake
in front of me, and twice as pleasant because I know that you are trying
to earn your precious "beads".
THE DEAL: PART THREE
(This is what was in my email)
I Sherry Nettles, of sound mind and body willingly enter into slavery of
my own free will, giving up my rights as a human being and a citizen of
any nation. I will now be known as "Tulip" for the period of which I
serve my new Masters. My owner and Master is Robert Duncan, and he may
sell/trade/nullify or offer anyone else a position as one of my masters
at his will. It is my desire to serve him, and to that end I have agreed
to the following terms:
For the remainder of this contract, I will be known as "Slave" and
Master Robert, will be known as Master.
I will arrive at Masters home on July 1st of this year wearing only a
peekaboo lace shirt, and high heels of at least 3 inches, and carrying a
supply of birth control, a dildo, handcuffs, a playgirl magazine, 20
condoms, Vaseline (large), five dollars and a Picture ID with my former
name (sherry nettles) on it. I will take a plane, but only purchase a
one way ticket. The Master will provide the return trip ticket by bus.
In Service of Master, I must earn 600 beads, by Midnight July 7th. If Do
not earn all 600, then whatever remains to be earned shall double on
July 8th. The outstanding balance will continue to double on every
Sunday after this, and I will continue to serve as a slave until such
time as I have repaid the entire amount in beads. If by the following
year on July 1st I still have an outstanding balance, then I will no
longer be a slave.
It is my purpose as slave to Earn Beads, and to seek to earn them at any
cost to my self. I no longer have any dignity and give up any pretense
of control over my own life. Yet, even in not accepting a choice to earn
additional beads by accepting a new rule, learning a new trick, or
performing for my masters amusement, I am fulfilling my obligation as a
slave, because that only means that I will remain with him longer in
service following the rules that I have already agreed to, until such
time as I become a "cow".
In the event that I become a "cow", I will submit to serve by all that I
have agreed to up until this point as a "cow". I will serve until I have
successfully given birth to two children, at which point I may return to
my normal life and take the children with me, and Master will be
released of any financial responsibility of conception or support.
I will follow these rules, and only receive beads as indicated for
following them. These are expected, the beads will be awarded for
accepting new rules, and suggesting new and depraved rules, or for
exceptional performance of a rule at my masters discretion, he may also
fine me beads for failure to follow a rule.
Upon entering my masters home, or car I am to strip nude unless
otherwise instructed I will be responsible to dress myself for leaving,
however my master reserves the right to approve or disprove of my
outfit.
I must submit to a paddling, body search, or pain lasting no longer than
1 hour, without expectation of beads, each time I violate a rule, but
nothing that would be permanent. A bonus of beads will exist for
extending the punishment willingly and for permanent marks or changes. I
must also accept any single unwarranted slap, tittie twister, noogie,
hickey, hair pulling, or anything put into my asshole, pussy, mouth, up
my nose, and that does not count as punishment, but merely `masters way
of showing affection' and is limited only to nothing that causes
permanent damage or harm, and I will be compensated in beads if there is
an accident.
I must act prissy and polite, and my masters and mistresses by their
proper titles, and everyone else as miss or mister and their first name.
This extends to all people or animals, and if I do not know their first
or last name, it is just miss or mister I must do this even during sex.
When I am in masters home or car, he or his guests may command me to
pose in any position for any length of time, and cook, clean, do house
work, and yard work.
I must ask permission to eat and to use the restroom, I may never sit on
a toilet, but only squat over it, and always with the door open, even if
it is at a gas station or something, claiming that the door won't shut."

I must thank masters for any decisions they make, and any punishments I
receive.
There are six commands I must follow instantly, no matter where we are,
if a master speaks the word. These will be known as "Tricks". Without
any hesitation or expectation of a reward, if a master tells me that
someone else may give command me to perform a trick, I must thank them
and perform it without hesitation or questions, to the best of my
ability.
1. "Punishment" is the first trick. I must immediately strip, bend over
at the waist and hold open my butt cheeks with my fingers and wait.

2."Corner" whatever I am wearing or doing, I stop and proceed to press
my nose into the nearest corner.
3."Piggie" I have to get down on all fours and snort once, and if anyone
asks me, I say "I am a little piggy, can't you see my tail" while in
this position, anyone may spank my bottom until master tells me to stop.
I do not have to suggest it, but if they should learn that I may not
move, they may do anything to me short of take my life.
4."normal" I have to act like this is totally normal, and not call my
masters by their titles, but by their real names..
5."Present," where I will go to my knees, with my butt hovering above my
ankles, my legs slightly spread, and my arms laying face up on my
thighs..."
6. "Roll over" I get on my back, put my hands up, and bark once, leave
my tongue out.
I will have sex with anyone Master wishes, from ages 16-70 years old at
the rate of one hour per bead, and they may use my butt, mouth, suzi,
and boobs, but I get birth control pills each day, and I do not have to
seduce them, they will know that I am willing however.
I will have sex with any animal master wishes, in any way desired,
except where it does not fit, after trying my best to make it fit, at
the rate of two beads an hour, more if there is an audience.
I will eat or drink anything Master wishes, unless it will cause me to
get sick. If its a medicine or hormone, I get told what it is first, and
to decide whether to accept it or not for beads...if I am hospitalized
or arrested as a result of following this or any other commands, I earn
100 beads per day (A full 24 hours, not prorated, it's all or no beads).
To that end, I will also eat off any surface and act as a serving dish
for any food my master wishes to consume.
I will wash myself in any liquid, but only in mild bleach if I accept
additional beads, and not in my eyes. I will do this at any time master
wishes, and in front of anyone, I will also accept anyone's desire to
wash me or to wash them during this time.
I will be allowed a minimum of two hours of sleep, per day. Master is
allowed to decide in what position and where I am to sleep. In most
cases I will sleep with the light on.
If I get fired from my job a result of following the rules, the game is
over and I will be released early from the slavery with full benefits.
I must accept any physical restraints you place on me that do not carry
the threat of obvious harm, such as bonds that are too tight, and the
threat of them being left on too long.
If something can be washed off without leaving a mark, it may be applied
to my body, if it is permanent I must be allowed to choose it in
exchange for beads.
On the first day, of my slavery I will not be expected to leave the
house.  I will be examined, and tested in any way seen fit by my master
for the first twenty four hours. Should I meet or exceed his
expectations I will receive 50 beads. If I am only cooperative 25 beads,
and for failure to meet his needs I will receive no beads and four hours
of punishment. After the first day, I will spend at least 8 hours
outside of the house in his service.
If someone should ask why I do these things, I am to respond plainly
that I am a "stupid cunt". I am also to admit if asked that I am
property of my master, and a willing slave.
I do these things of my own free will, for my own sick twisted pleasure.
I have signed over all property, and finances to my master, as well as
power of attorney, until the terms of this contract are ended. During
that time my car, home, finances and life are fully under his control.
He will only sell my personal possessions after a period of one years
service if I should have failed to earn all the beads necessary.
At the bottom was a place to sign, but I was supposed to sign and read
it on the video camera. I slept on this for several nights, tossing and
turning over how to deal with it.
Four:
I was naturally inclined to totally dismiss the "contract". After all, I
really hadn't done anything wrong? Or had I. He had our phone
conversation taped, our chats recorded, and several other things. The
only thing was, and I wasn't really thinking it through completely at
the time, but he was an accessory to the crime, because he helped me to
cover it up. So I went through the normal stages a person might go
through when faced with such an incredible demand. At first disbelief,
but I realized he was serious and that he wasn't going to just go away,
so I'd have to deal with him. Then Anger, how dare he offer me this deal
as a slave? I had just lost my husband, and had needed his help. Then
Sadness, I actually wept for about an hour thinking about it. I am a
fairly strong and proud person though, so I pulled myself together for
the next step of my decision making process which was denial: Just
forget it and it will go away, but that night I couldn't even sleep and
all day at work, all I could do was keep thinking about it, and sneaking
to check hotmail to see if he had sent anything else, especially saying
he was just kidding and it was all just a put-on for the next fantasy he
wanted to play.
The final stage occurred about 9pm, the time I normally get online after
my daughter goes to bed. Except that my daughter was staying with my
in-laws, since they lived in our town. I had quite a bit of family in
town, and they were watching my daughter so that I could sort of regroup
and grieve over my husband's death. The 9pm hour rolled around and I got
online. This stage might be called acceptance, because naturally he was
there waiting in the chat room I normally go hang out in.
At first I took the approach that he couldn't be serious and that he
should forget it. He replied calmly "too much invested, your already
mine. Listen, I could take a lot more than I am asking for. I don't see
what the big deal is?"
I was furious, and as quick as my fingers could type I told him that he
was essentially asking me to quit my job, and go be his pain slut and
that I wasn't ready for r/t fantasy and that even phone sex was out of
the question. I didn't need to hear any body groan or talk on the phone,
it wasn't something that even remotely interested me the whole time I
had been chatting, I was certain that the illusion of them on the chat
board was far better than any heavy breathing on the phone, and plus you
just don't give out your phone number on the web. I remember when I had
been dating as a 16 year old, boy's would call you at all hours of the
day and night with the most ridiculous questions "What are you
wearing?....oh, you were sleeping.....You playing with yourself?.... No?, go
to what?.....hey, I was just being nice...I figured you'd be up, hell it's
only 1am.....well fuck you too...." Something like that, is what I remember
them saying. Anyway, I wasn't about to get hang ups and crazy calls in
the middle of the night from god-knows who just to hear some guy pant,
when I had the chat room, and as far as R/T, well forget it. This was
fantasy, and that's all I had ever wanted.
Yet, here he was insisting that this was a `small' thing. Strangely
though, as we chatted it went more from me saying "no way", to me asking
questions, and trying to offer an alternative, which was the first step
in my acceptance of the deal. I realize now, that he was a shrewd
salesman, and perhaps a shrewder wheeler-dealer, because he was always
willing to add some condition or added line to the deal, whenever I
wanted to suggest something else. It's like perhaps he hadn't even
planned on asking for as much as he did.
Let me give you an example, because the deal I described in the last
part, wasn't what he originally asked for. His original deal went the
way a lot of those fantasies go, something like (with a little
clarification) "You will do what I say, when I say it, whenever, for as
long as I want, and you will like it". That's pretty much how you would
sum up the entire deal he had offered. So I asked questions, like what
if you asked me to do something that would hurt me? Or to eat something
that might kill me?  In fact, I was really worried about the drug aspect
of it, not mind-altering drugs, I knew he didn't want a zombie. He
wanted me fully aware of what I was getting myself into, and totally
within my senses, so that I could feel the shame of what I was doing and
choosing to do. He knew I wouldn't feel any fear or even regret for
doing something while on some kind of XTC or Spanish Fly or whatever,
that was going to supposedly turn me into a willing whore. I was
actually more concerned with his interest in the medical profession.
One thing that I think must appeal to a lot of women, is the idea of a
Medical Fantasy. I think it takes root in our early teens. We are
strapped into Gyno chairs and surrounded by this sterile/cold/clean
atmosphere and our private parts probed, pricked prodded. I think it
puts some dirty thoughts in our mind. I know it did me. I remember some
of my fantasies were about being a college student who had accidentally
signed up for a Research project and not read very carefully all the
permission slips she signed. As you might predict, the research project
involved nudity, sex, probes, and usually it went something like "Okay,
specimen #7, strip and walk down to the examination room #7, we are
giving a class in there and you will be our subject". Naturally that was
down a long hallway through the research facility, and like a piece of
meat or a prop, I'd be paraded down the hallway as if it were perfectly
normal for a naked woman to walk in front of the "professional" research
staff and the visitors. Then my own classmates would have a chance to
see me naked anyway in the classroom.  Robert had even done several of
these fantasies with me.
The reason I give you the background is because his fantasies usually
involved alteration, giving you some sort of cow hormone for example
that made your boobs continue to grow and swell, and even give milk. It
actually makes sense, I mean think about how much money they could make
with a pill instead of expensive surgery to firm up your boobs?
So I added the parts to the deal about how I would get to decide if I
would take the medicine or not, and he came back with a condition about
if it's penicillin or cold medicine etc that would not count, and so we
went back and forth for about two hours, discussing what would be in the
initial rules, and exactly what I was going to say or do if someone
asked me why I was doing this.
That was really important to me. I know in his case, there is not as
much fun to be had just alone in a private room, in one of those BDSM
style sessions where everyone looks like they belong there and are
enjoying it.  He liked to see trailer-trash photo's of women who plainly
looked like they were being exploited, blackmailed, or plainly beaten in
a public place. A good example is he had one of a girl at Circuit city,
she was standing in front of the store in just a shirt with no sleeves,
and she had unbuttoned it and was flashing the camera. To every other
guy who saw that picture, they didn't notice the one thing that perhaps
all women and Robert noticed her face. She looked very unhappy like she
was thinking "God, I can't believe I am doing this" or "hurry up and
take the picture, I hope your happy!" or "Geez, that will teach me never
to make a bet like this again".
That was the appeal of the picture to me, it seemed so real, and the
emotion attached was something I could connect with, relate with.
I tried really hard to get him to agree to some thing that would permit
to go out covered. I wanted some kind of guarantee that he wouldn't have
me walk down the street butt naked like some sort of Madonna Sex Book.
He wouldn't budge on this. I couldn't believe he was so unwilling to at
least guarantee me or clarify what I wouldn't have to do in this case.
So I made a different request to sort of handle this and anything else
that would be too far, as far as I was concerned. That was the part
about going to the hospital or the jail. I had asked that if by
following any of his rules or orders, I go to either place that the sick
game is over, and that it be as if I had completed the deal.
Like the true conniving devil he is, he came back with the 100 beads a
day deal. Also to hurry me along, he made the outstanding balance
double. I hadn't done the math on that one (I really should have), but I
looked at it, like this. I didn't plan on being there for more than a
week, at the most two. It didn't really matter the part about serving
for two years as a "cow" and the baby thing, although I had actually
negotiated it from being a baby-making machine (unlimited children) and
for as long as the master so desires until sold, to just as long as it
would take to have two children.  I couldn't conceive of even how they
would be cared for, or why he'd really want a slave waddling around his
house, it sure wasn't glamorous when I was pregnant, my husband had
gotten turned off the last seven months of my pregnancy.
I won't go point by point and tell you all the issues I had with his
original deal. Honestly though, as I tried to make sense of this deal,
it got me turned on spending hours with him discussing and wondering
just how I would feel or even deal with his demands. I knew that the
beads were more of a way to make me play his "game", so that I didn't
just get there and not try hard to please him and follow the rules.
Having these beads was a way to incentive me to work my way towards
freedom, and all the while work myself into degradation and filth.
One thing I did want to mention was the part about sex. My fantasies
weren't really even about Sex, as much as they were about power or
danger.  So the idea of just being a fuck whore was really biting my gut
so much that I had pushed that part of the conversation to the end. I
was afraid of being used 24 hours a day and being totally busted out so
that even in a week I would be bow-legged, my body never looking the
same, my holes worn out! I was also concerned with the reality of
pregnancy and sexual disease.  I mean in these fantasies the women are
always just fucking and sucking whomever with no concern for getting a
disease. This is mainly because these stories are often written by men
who really don't even think about it.
I was thinking about it. So I asked for limitations, and at the very
least to earn (I asked for a lot more than just one!) a bead through
sex. I got him to agree to a bead an hour, and I was kind of concerned
that some times it would be really much shorter than that. It was a
losing battle to argue the point with him, he just said "The One hour is
a rule of thumb, it's hard to say how many partners you might have in
that hour, on the other hand, if you blow a guy and get it over with
quick in about five minutes, and I am feeling generous I'll count it as
a bead, it depends on my mood, you have the right to ask, Tulip."
He was already calling me Tulip and had told me to even change my name
to Tulip to continue to chat with him. I asked him why he chose that
name, it didn't sound like `normal' slave names on the chat board. He
explained that while it sounded exotic, it could almost pass for a real
name, but it was a joke he had heard about "Two Lips", and how since I
had two lips, he wanted me to wear lipstick on both sets of lips, and
for that matter on both my nipples. I didn't argue with him. I just
shook my head at my PC; I had bigger worries than what people might
think of the name I would be using.
I was the one that got him to clarify the ages I would be expected to
have sex with, without any hesitation. I knew that under 18 was minors,
but figured that since this was an adult man, he probably didn't have
too many guy friends that age, and any punk he did get who was 16 wasn't
likely to go pressing charges against me. I asked about condoms, and he
said, "well, since you'll be sucking, licking, and swallowing, I am not
sure how much protection they'd offer. I'd maybe allow it, if you wore
the contents of the condom after every time until I told you to wash it
off?"
I was getting furious. He would often twist my words or desires around
like that, as if some how I was going to agree to even worse rules than
he had offered. What good would that have done? Then he added the next
part that blew me away "Besides, some animals can't wear condoms, they
don't make them that big...". I was taking a sip of some coffee when he
said that and nearly spit it all over my PC screen.
You can't shake a stick on the internet without running into an animal
sex web site. There are so many of them it's insane. Yet, I have never
met another women who I even thought would be capable of sex with an
animal, much less want to do it. It seemed like such a far out idea, and
when I had first got on the web, I had thought most men liked the
playboy type girls, not some women with her hand on a horses thing. I
remember one year we took a vacation to sea world, and they had the
Budweiser Clydesdale there, and I remember for the first time noticing
their HUGE things, and thinking that no way a woman could even consider
that it would fit. That was before I saw all the fisting, and amazingly
shocking pics on the web.
I admit the animal sex had come up in some of the fantasies I did, but
it was hard for me to picture having never done it, and really as far as
dogs, all I could picture was the dog we had when I was younger, how his
peepee looked like a little lipstick, and how it had kind of put me off
on seeing what a boy had until I was about 19. I was pretty glad that
boys didn't have such a disgusting little pointy cock like our dog had.
The thing that I had always asked myself was two parts about the animal
sex thing. First, how would a guy first mention this to his girlfriend
or wife?  "Well tonight dear, I thought perhaps you would fuck the dog
and I would watch, take pictures and post them on the web?" Can you
imagine the size of the guy's balls to even dare ask someone this out of
the blue? You can't work up to this, I mean this is a particular kind of
kink that you have to just mention out of the blue. In bondage you could
work up with some sexy handcuffs and a blindfold to eventually getting
to a full-blown dungeon, but a dog? You'd have to just come right out
with it.
The other thing was, what would you think of her after she did it? Would
you really want to be with her again? Would you really want to stick
your thing where a dog had his? It boggled my mind, yet here he was
initially saying that I'd be having sex with animals at the rate of one
bead an hour, and try to earn 600 beads.
Well obviously, there was no way I could earn 600 beads at that rate in
the first week if all I did was have sex the entire time, because there
was only 168 hours in the week! So I was going to be expected to earn
beads primarily by agreeing to new dares, rules, learning new tricks. I
knew this, and he knew this.
So getting back to the animal thing, I told him my concerns, that of
rabies, and that they just might not fit, and I had about ten other
excuses why this just wasn't going to be in the equation. The thought of
sex with a normal man was seeming more and more appealing, even
strangers, or crusty old men. He had a counter to every excuse, and he
just said "You have to make reasonable effort to accommodate the animal,
with or without my direction. If there is an audience you will be paid a
higher rate, I expect you to accommodate audience requests when
possible, but to put on an entertaining show or you will be fined in
beads."
I asked him to define sex, because he wasn't talking about the
missionary position. He proceeded to pull a President Clinton and
ambiguously describe anal, dildos, wet sex, slapping, and pretty much
anything one person could do to another person as sex. It was hard to
tell the difference between when it might actually become true torture
and when it was still just sex, and I told him so. He just said "call it
what you want to, it pays one bead an hour minimum, two for animals, and
if they fall into the category, you will do it with them if I tell you
to, If seduction is involved, since I know you hate smarmy-romantic
cheese as much as I do, you will be given a premium"
We had exhausted every point, until you have the document I sent you. I
hadn't gotten a contract that I was going to "enjoy", and I don't think
I could have got one. I was almost banking on him bluffing and not being
able to pull it off once he met me. I am a little intimidating in
person, and plus he seemed like basically a `nice' guy despite his
fetish, and I was counting on the fact that in dealing straight with
him, he would respect me, and not really want to hurt me. He didn't seem
to really want to hurt me, he would usually add to the pain-stuff
"limited to severe injuries or no permanent damage", but he was worrying
me, because at the very least he was considering the possibility of it
happening because of something he was going to do.
Then he added something to the argument he hadn't before, he typed out
my credit card numbers and mentioned that `while you were knocked out, I
took the liberty of getting a little more insurance.....you won't mind,
because your finances, as sad as they are, will be under my control
anyway." He was right I didn't have much money, and I was about to have
a whole lot less.  He had ordered a few things.
"When they arrive, you will use them to practice. You will be receiving
a package of dildos and sex toys, I want you to lay in your front room
nightly, for three hours and use them on your mouth, pussy, asshole, and
when possibly your nose." (He didn't say polite words like suzi or butt,
like I do). "You will be receiving some leather outfits, you will wear
those at all times when your home, except for when you are totally nude,
including sleep. You will notice there is no collar, you haven't earned
one yet!!" Earned? How could he be serious.
He then proceeded to describe what I was wearing and said "And if the
camera's are moved or touched, I will instantly alert the police. I have
rigged your house to keep tabs on you, your phone, even your modem tells
me where you go on the internet. You see you represent quite an
investment for me, and I could take no chances you would go to the
police and throw yourself on their mercy. I can be ready to leave her in
a moments notice, and the name that I have provided you, the identity,
while quite convincing is far from my true one."
He continued "There are weights and some amino acids, and slimfast, I
want you to work out at least one half a day and stretch out, follow the
instructions on the tape you are sent to do some yoga. You will thank me
for this preparation when you arrive, so that you are more limber and
opened up. You will keep a butt plug in, I suggest the largest you can
stand and keep your rear end greased up with Vaseline at all times
except when you are taking a dump or playing with yourself. There is a
little experiment with electricity kit from radio shack. I think you
know what you need to do with that?"
I didn't really want him to continue, "You should get all of this stuff
tomorrow. I will let you figure out how to attach the wires to your
body, and I think you had better build up a tolerance to it, it will
really help toughen you up. I'd prefer you take an hour of good hard
slaps and punches, but I can't have you to bruised before arriving, and
I am a patient man.  The electricity is safe enough for thirteen year
olds to experiment with, so you can't do any real damage to yourself
with the set, impress me with your use of it.
I want you to read the document on a videotape, out loud and slowly, and
send it back signed with the tape by Fed EX to this POBOX <deleted>, and
addressed to yourself. It's a little POBOX I established in your name,
to help me with my web businesses. It must be in my hand by Wednesday.
Is this understood.
I paused, and thought about hitting the reset button on my computer and
just quitting. This had gotten way too personal, way too serious, and
way too unfun. The skin on the back of my neck was goose bumpy, and it
felt warm to the touch, I bet it was red if I could see it. I sat there
for five minutes while he hit reload and kept saying "Are you there
bitch?" and "What the fuck?"
I went to the thing on my explorer that said "Exit" and did just that,
and went to bed.
Five:
Day one of my "Training":
I had gone to work the next day. It seemed strange, everyone was so
calm, going about their normal lives. Here I was frantic, and wondering
why no one else had it as bad as me? What was going to happen? All day
at work, I kept expecting the police to arrive at any moment.
When I got home, on my door step was a photo, stuck in what looked like
a pile of dog poop. There was no question who was responsible, but he
was in another city? Had he flown down and done this? I plucked the
picture out with two fingers. It was a black-and-white of me standing
over the wrecked car on their dirt road, looking down. He must have
snapped it with a digital camera or something without me even noticing.
It was a clear message. There was also a box with what was probably the
supplies that he had talked about the night before.
I didn't even wait until 9pm, I just went in and got on the PC. There he
was in the chat room like before. I guess with the benefit of the web
cams in my house, he was able to figure out when I would be on the PC or
just assumed the time I got home from work. In any case, he said "You
made me very angry, bitch....before I go to the police, the next step is
to send that picture to your boss, and you mom. I am sure you can
explain that away, your such a good liar?"
I was certain I had been right by not giving in to the guys I had met on
the web and agreeing to talk to them on the phone or anything, after
all, it would have been borderline cheating at that point. What I had
been doing on the web wasn't cheating, I had even seen a movie where the
guy specifically said cyber chat wasn't cheating. It was fun, I mean it
had gotten to be a hobby of mine, more than even my husband. Now I knew
that I had really stepped in it, by letting this guy have any
information on me.
I apologized and said I was sorry, and tried to renegotiate again. I was
very sincere. I went and stripped naked and even played with the dildos
while I chatted with him, as he requested. I told him he could come over
and has sex with me, and that I would poop or pee and let him watch and
he could have anal sex with me, and everything. He said "We have already
been over this. That is not the deal. You are lucky I even gave you a
deal, you're a smart bitch, if you weren't I would have left things the
way they were before and you'd just be my pain slave. You see even if
you tried to get protection from the cops, I have ways to reach you in
jail. Some of my best friends work in the prison system, it's amazing
what kind of jobs my fellow perverts hold down, who hang out in the chat
rooms. Always willing to do me a favor or too.
That had kind of explained how he must have gotten the dog poop on my
front porch, he must have had a buddy in my city (it was a big city),
come over and do it. I was pretty shaken up about it.
He said "look, I can see you need some persuasion. This will be your
training week. I have already charged an airline ticket to your credit
card, so your paying for the trip you might as well use it. If you agree
today, you will be given 10 beads if you decide to go through with your
training. Trust me, this is the easiest 10 beads you'll earn, and you
will need this practice....OR you can wait until I show that pic to
someone you respect or care about and lose your job. Still not
convinced? I can also hurt some of the people you love, did you know
practically your entire family still lives in your hometown? That's
where I live by the way....I bet you didn't know that. You had never cared
to ask much about who I was, or where I lived, or anything. Your needs
were always so self-centered, always telling me what turned you on, and
expecting that if I didn't like it, I'd find someone else. Well guess
what bitch? I liked it. I liked it so much, that I wanted a lot more."
"So tonight's lesson is this, you will use the dildos and stretching
exercises, 3 hours for the first, one for the second, you will do twenty
sit ups and ten push ups, and you will drink a glass of your own piss
before you do anything else. You will repeat this every day until the
night of your departure. You will arrive at exactly midnight July 1st,
which is really appropriate don't you think, my little cunt face?"
I told him yes, but I was lost in thought, and trying to play along, not
sure what he wanted to hear. If he wanted to hear my real fear, or if he
wanted me to say what the plastic fake subbies in the rooms had always
been saying and meaning, about how delighted they were to be used and
abused.
"You will get online every day right after you get home from work, and
you will have that glass of piss with you to end our conversation, go
fill up a cup and hold it up in the front room so that I can watch you
drink it. You only have to drink one glass... it won't kill you. Go on."
So, I always thought r/t commands were like sexual Simon says at my PC.
When a guy asked to tell me these at my PC I usually broke out in
laughter thinking he had about as much clue how to get me off from 1000
miles away on a PC, as I had of desire to do the same thing for him. I
could definitely do it better for myself than they could. This wasn't
about that, this was about proving my willingness to deal with him and
to accept his deal.
I said "yes".
I went and got the glass, and stood in the bathtub and filled up the
glass.
The warm pee tasted like sour apple cider, and it was hardly glamorous.
There were more pee-sites on the web than animal sex sites. This was
something that always seemed to be so much "Fun" to most of the women on
the web. The weird part to me was, that a lot of the pee-people were
really into it, but would be against poop pictures. I could really see
no difference, of course I had changed diapers for about two years of my
life, so I had no illusions of how nasty this could be. There were,
don't get me wrong a lot of pictures where it didn't look so
particularly glamorous, the woman was spitting out the pee as fast as it
was pumped into her mouth, or taking it up the butt hole, while she
seemed almost forced to hold her cheeks apart for the man's target
practice.
Then I did my exercises, playing with the dildos, masturbating in my
front room. Pretty sure he was watching. Then I did the stretching yoga
exercise, and I barely had the energy to do the sit ups and did about
three push ups.  I was so tired, but I wanted to get on the web and chat
with him more. He wasn't there. He didn't show. I even went to the front
room and jumped up and down to get his attention, in the nude! In my own
home. Thinking that if he was watching, he would notice and get online
so I could ask him more questions and go to sleep.
He didn't answer. I opened up the boxes containing the leather clothes,
most of them were purchased without any clue as to what my size were,
because they were either way too tight and chafing or way too big. There
wasn't any need for modesty at this point, so I put on some a belt, a
thong, and a leather corset, and went to bed.
Day Two of my Training:
That day at work, I received several calls and they were all hang ups.
It was clear he was trying to tell me something...I rushed home a little
early, hoping to perhaps catch someone at my doorway if there would be
another sign. There wasn't.
Instead, inside my house was a video tape. "You will make the tape
tonight, tulip" was written on a note. The tape was sitting on a slice
of provolone cheese and ham. I thought that was odd. I wondered what on
earth the ham and cheese symbolized. He had made a key to my home, and
had free access to my house.
I swallowed, and went to my closet. Most all of my clothes were gone,
and all the leather goods (which I had left in their boxes) were hanging
up in their places. There were a few outfits left, mostly stuff that I
didn't like any more. I took off what was my last remaining piece of
office wear and went to go piss in a cup, wondering if anyone would
blame me if I just tried to leave the country, or if anyone would
believe me if I told them this story.
I didn't bother putting any leather on, I just went to the PC naked and
got online. He was there...and he said "put your boots on....I think they
are by the PC....I don't want you naked all the time, for your training,
you must learn the feel of leather against your skin...."
I addressed him as my master, and tried to probe for a way out of this,
it was becoming increasingly clearer that he was a master mind who had
left nothing to chance, and this far into his web, there was little
getting out of it. He was no brutal idiot or thirteen year old punk who
liked looking at dirty pics like most of the other guys on the web who
pretended to be hard masters. He was really a mean, evil, person who had
unlimited creative energy.
He told me that I would be punished if I did my stretching and exercises
as incompletely and poorly as I had done before, and that I hadn't used
my electrical set. "You spent all that money on this stuff....you should
really use it...plus I want to see more of that ass....you seemed to think I
just want to watch an hour of you play with your skanky pussy?" He told
me "bottoms up" indicating I should drink my glass of warm piss. It
wasn't any easier the second time now that I knew what it tasted like.
I hadn't really been talked too this way ever. Just in the fantasies,
and I was beginning to see how really unglamorous slavery was starting
to appear.
"Each hour the phone will ring only once, you will walk into your
kitchen and write out a phrase, such as "I love you master" and walk
back into the front room, you will hold it over your head and walk
around with it, and say it out loud, you will do this until the phone
rings again once. For this you will receive an extra bead when you
arrive, you will do this for the next five nights before your trip."
I agreed, and suspected that he was videotaping these sessions. I was
going to have no choice but to go and play his demented game. I spent
that night honestly preparing, training for a week of sheer agony.
Putting the biggest dildo up my butt I could, and in my mouth right
after. I even had a small finger sized one that I used to penetrate my
rear and suzi at the same time, and I learned that he expected it to be
used in mouth and nose at the same time as well. It felt like it was
going to puncture into my skull when it went up my nose, it was very
uncomfortable.
That night, I did as I he said with the signs. Holding up "I love you
master" and "Thank You Master" and "wish you were here master". The
electric set had no way to attach to my body, I could see that the wires
came so that the rubber was shaved off and the metal was exposed. I knew
upon seeing them that he expected me to stick the tiny metal needle part
into my boobs and shock myself.
I really wasn't ready for this. I took a beer out of the fridge, drank
it down. Then stuck the needles into my nipples gently, and played with
this ridiculous junior science set. It was hard to figure out at first,
and the shock it gave was more of a tingle than anything else. It didn't
really scare me so much after the first few times, and I put it on the
hood of my suzi and it didn't hurt at all. It was more demeaning than
anything else, knowing I was probably being videotaped doing this, than
anything else.
Later that night, I took out the video camera, set it on the coffee
table.  According to his instructions, he wanted me to memorize the
contract and say it very convincingly. Knowing I was not good at
memorizing, I just wrote it out on some of those big cards he or his
friend had left on my dining room table and set them so I could read
them like a cue card. Just rewriting this elaborate contract I was
agreeing to made me shiver, so you can imagine how it made me feel to do
the tape. I did it over about three times, just so it seemed real. As he
had requested, I stuck the dildos in my body as I read the contract on
tape. He had given me the instruction earlier "Take the ham and cheese
on the table and since the wrinkles in your pussy look like a ham and
cheese sandwich from where I am sitting, you are to arrange the slices
to look like a little flower bud hanging out of your snatch, at the end
of your speech, you will pull out first the cheese then the ham and eat
them, before turning off the tape. Do you understand?" I nodded at the
PC and he had continued talking, meaning he was watching from the PC
too, not just the front room.
The purpose here was to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was
willing to serve him, that I thought it would be fun to test myself as a
nymphomaniac, and that I had a tremendous desire to serve him for the
sheer joy of it, which was a total lie. I couldn't really conceive of
him showing this tape to anyone later to prove that this was my idea. I
figured a judge would hear my story and his story and believe that given
this situation any sane person would make the tape and go along until
they could think of a way out of it. As he had requested, I had arranged
my little "Tulip Hole", by putting the ham and cheese into my suzi and
sort of folding it inside of me, my first impression was to roll it up
like a ding dong, but I saw his point as I was moving it around, that my
suzi did sort of resemble a ham and cheese. I hadn't shaved off my pubic
hair, figuring he would eventually ask me to do it, or order or whatever
and that might be good for a bead.....they always seemed to do that in the
fantasies I had read.
When I had finished, I was dreading getting back online. He told me to
get back on after I thought I was done from now on, because as he said
"You can't be trusted to perform as you are expected, I misjudged your
seriousness to prove yourself to me, so you will present yourself upon
completion of your nightly training, and if I think you did not try your
hardest, I will have something else for you to do."
He was unexpectedly quite pleased though. He told me to drop the tape in
a fed-ex box the next day, and that I would be expected to wear some of
the leather gear under my clothes at work. He said that I would also be
typing up a sign at work, in big letters and printed in "Landscape mode"
and holding in front of my face whenever the phone rang once and hung
up. He told me because of the pain-in-the-ass switchboard system, that I
could put it down in twenty seconds. I was sure I would get fired. He
gave me a choice. I could either do that, or have a glass of piss on my
desk, in my coffee mug and drink from it whenever the phone rang.
I opted for the sign. He told me at home that the signs better say
something else. "I know you don't like to cuss, bitch. I want you to say
you want me to fuck you with my fist, or that you wish you could suck a
fart out my ass hole!, but just at home, at work you can just say
something about how you live to serve or love to serve." My hart was in
my chest worried about getting found out, and more importantly disgusted
by the idea of an actual fist in my body.
"You'll keep a butt plug in all day at work tomorrow...you know the one
that looks like a babies dinky? Use that one tomorrow. I will want you
to suck it when you get home while you are online with me....you'll find
almost all your leather panties are cut so as to allow easy access to
your bare asshole.  Those cost a little more, but I am sure you don't
mind spending your money on it?"
I replied "no, master. Thank you for the gift". I was learning to speak
the speak he wanted me to talk. I could almost sense him grinning with
anticipation. As I went to bed with the small butt plug in my rear and a
dildo clenched in my mouth between my teeth.
Six:
Day three of my training:
The next day, I awoke for work. I could almost sense my tight rear-end
fighting against the bootie plug. I found some sort of elastic jock
strap looking thing that held it in place. He had told me that
eventually it would stay in by itself and that I would need a much
larger one, but I really couldn't imagine, and didn't want to imagine my
butt hole staying that wide open. I thought about it, I mean I'd never
be able to wear any panties without staining them if my butt hole stayed
as wide as a half-dollar all the time. I'd need to wear panty shields
for the rest of my life.
Tragically, or perhaps predictably there wasn't much choice in what to
wear. I couldn't wear yesterday's outfit, but the alternatives seemed
worse. I knew that it would piss him off if I did wear yesterdays
outfit, and was tempted to do that very thing since he had given me the
choice, but I knew that wouldn't do me any good in the long run. I had a
black-leather bra with chrome studs and the leather thong-wear that held
the butt plug on, as I searched for something acceptable to wear over
them to work.
For shoes there was a collection of trashy five-inch stiletto heels. In
the way of shirts, as you might guess he had breezy white blouses that
might be acceptable office wear if you wore a vest over it to cover your
bra, any sane women who wore something that risqu ' would wear a white
bra and it would not bat much of an eye these days. With a big black
leather brassiere like this Xena-wear I had, there was no way I could go
to work. To add insult to injury there were short skirts with slits in
them, designed clearly to be worn with a slip or else you'd be showing
off too much leg.  Pantyhose were required at work, yet I didn't have a
pair, much less panties.
I thought about calling in sick to work, and realized that I had better
ask for a vacation today, and that calling in sick would be a quick way
to get fired if I was going to ask for a vacation right after. He hadn't
said I had to wear the brassiere, so making one of those fashion choices
you make when your getting dressed at 6am, I took it off and looked at
myself in the mirror topless...my nipples were sore from last nights
electrical-games and puffy. I didn't have the biggest boobs in the
world, but there would be no not noticing them jiggling around in that
silky mesh blouse.
I stuck two small pieces of cardboard on my nipples, and put some tape
over them to hold them on. This was about the only way I could see not
to be so apparently inappropriately dressed, and in the back of my mind
I was worried. I was worried for two reasons. The first reason was that
`Master' might be upset. The second reason was that I WAS concerned
about what Master thought, He had power over me and that was worrying
me.
Dressed like street-trash, I made it to work and despite some stares and
leers by the geeks, I managed to keep my dignity and even said out loud
at one point in the break area that I "was experimenting with a new
style" to shush the whispering.
The phone rang several times, each time I held up the sign and prayed no
one noticed. Later that day, I went to my Boss and mentioned I needed to
take some time off because I needed to sort some things out from my
husband's death. The fat old man stared at my boobs the whole time, and
I thought he was going to deny the leave, but he smiled and said that he
"understood, and that it would be no problem, take as much time as you
wanted."
This was not the answer I wanted to hear. This was making it easier for
me to go to master, and I was hoping to have some complication, some
excuse.  The `training' was bad enough. The phone rang, as I was about
to go home, "nice touch" the voice said. It wasn't Robert.
"Your master asked me to call you, he isn't wasting long distance money
on you. Take the cardboard off your boobs....at your desk. Do it now". He
paused, since most people had gone for the day, I was sort of alone. I
looked around and peeled them off quickly, it didn't hurt.
"Your car was towed, and I am selling it now. You know, you had way too
much trash in the bottom of it, anyway. I hope you wash your ass better
than you take care of your car" he said in a brusque New Jersey accent,
and perpetually sounded like he was eating a hamburger while he spoke.
"Your taking the bus home," he gave me instructions, that involved two
transfers through crappy neighborhoods and then a 2 mile walk from a
major intersection. "This will get you used to some fresh air, you need
the exercise. Hurry home, don't stop to turn any tricks...." He let the
insult sink in, and I didn't say a word. "You there, bitch?"
I nodded and he continued. He had seen me nod. He was watching. He might
even be in the office building! "When you get there, there will be three
men putting your stuff into a truck, don't worry...for now it will be in
storage, if you aren't going home for a while, it'll get sold......don't
talk to the men when you arrive. They will be expecting you, and you
will suck off all three of them in your front room as soon as you get
home and then get on your computer. We are leaving the things we think
you need to finish out the week until you leave." Click. The bastard
hung up just as I was going to ask him if he was a master too, and get
some more information.
I had to see for myself. My car was missing from the employee parking
lot.  There is some sinking feeling you get when something of yours has
been stolen. It's like you can hardly believe it's gone, and you want to
believe this wasn't really stolen. I knew who had it, and was powerless
to stop them. I was in such a rush to leave no one had even noticed my
boobs juggling around inside the blouse, but I could feel that as I am
hurried for the bus stop.
It was mainly blacks and old people on the bus, making me stand out even
more. The fact that my dress was slit up to my thigh and I might as well
not even be wearing a blouse because my boobs were in plain view didn't
help. I just pretended that it was perfectly normal, and you know what?
Despite some stares no one messed with me. I Figured they thought I WAS
a streetwalker and not quite as interesting or exotic to look at. I
think if they had known I was a normal woman they would have been more
tempted to look, but the fact that I looked like a common tramp was good
camouflage.
No one bothered me when I waited for my transfers and walked home, I was
kind of surprised actually. I did get a few honks, but I'd imagine no
matter how I was dressed in those parts of town someone would honk. When
I got home a small truck was parked in the road, and my furniture had
been loaded on to it. The men were waiting around inside the house, with
muddy boots. It looked nearly empty, like when we first moved in. (Good
thing I rent!)
"Your late!" one said and the other slapped him a high five when he saw
me.  I remembered I Wasn't supposed to say anything. This would be the
first time I had to do anything sexual with another person, and it would
be with three strangers?
I walked towards them, and got down on my knees in the front room, shut
my eyes and opened my mouth, determined to get this over with as soon as
possible.
"What are you doing?" One asked me. I opened my eyes, and saw them
standing in front of me, with their arms folded. I silently gave them a
confused look asking what they wanted? Or expected.
"Geez, you are stupid!"....."We were told you'd get naked and suck us all
three off......shit we are on our own time, I got to get home to my fucking
wife, and your just going to do it like this? You better make it worth
while, god-damned titty dancers think they own the world, and we're
going to do all the work for you?" Apparently they thought I was a
stripper and that I had offered to pay them in blow jobs instead of
money.
I didn't have any curtains any more, which meant my front room could be
seen from the road by passersby.....They clearly expected the blow jobs,
and in the nude. Nodding, I started to take off my shirt and skirt, and
they laughed their ass off when they saw the leather thong, and one of
them reached around and pulled out my butt plug. "Holy shit, you are a
kinky one, I wish you wasn't moving, we could have a good time!!!!"
As if I was considering sex with them, or even talking to these rednecks
a "Good time". I narrowed my eyes at him, but they didn't notice, their
eyes were on my boobs and body, as I struggled out of the leather
bottoms, and stood before them naked, I sort of silently indicated they
take down their pants.
Each man's cock was different looking, and let me tell you I spent a
great deal of time on the first one. Seemed like forever bobbing and
slurping, and didn't "feel sexy" like in the movies, which have a sort
of unreal quality. he other guys kept laughing and talking, and I was
sure that was keeping him from erupting....I wasn't sure if I would have a
chance to turn my head when he came, I had always made my husband warn
me before he did his business like that, so I could let him shoot off on
himself.
The loudest one of the guys (with the shortest cock), started to get
bored.  Speaking in a rough southern accent "I ain't no homo, but god
damned I want in that fucking mouth too...." Standing next to his friend
he began to slap my face with his cock....spunking precum into my face and
causing me to scrunch my nose as each slapped got harder and harder.
This was apparently turning the first guy on, because before I knew it,
he shot his load into my throat, and held my head (I hate when men do
this! Treat you like a puppy dog, but I didn't have any choice...) and
kept me on his cock till I felt I would either puke or swallow.
"If you want your pussy used, I'll be glad to do that....." said the third
man, who had been patiently playing with himself while his friends used
my mouth. I shook my head no, and he seemed insulted "Well hell, I don't
know how many cocks have been in your ass, but mine is just as good as
any one else's. I guess, I could see why he was insulted, since he
thought I was a total slut, he had no idea this was my first time doing
anything like this.
Violently forcing himself into my throat the second man (the loud one)
put his thing into my mouth, and forced me to suck his balls. Force
isn't really a good choice of words. He insisted, but I chose to do it.
At any time I was free to just leave...I knew what that might mean, and in
for a penny in for a pound. I started to jerk off the third man with my
hand, and they all laughed "God she is a pro, two at one time..." but the
second guy seemed to get a little jealous I hadn't thought to do that
for him, he was trying to get me to use my teeth. Why on earth would a
man WANT you to use your teeth on their cock? I couldn't understand
that, surely it hurt and was sensitive....
He pulled out at the last second. I thought that he was being polite
like a man should do when your nice enough to suck his dick. "Surprise!"
he sprayed my face and hair with cum! Causing me to cough, "It's your
fucking birthday! Here's the icing!" he added laughing. Then he laughed,
slapped the third man on the back and said "All your's chief! We'll be
out in the fucking truck!!" and staggered out zipping up his pants.
I was left with the third man, who held my head gently, as if
considering me for a moment. "I have a daughter about your age....such a
sweet thing" I pouted up at him and saw a gentle, caring older man,
probably a grandfather. "As much as that bitch cost me in braces, cars,
and college.....I had always kinda wanted her to suck my dick....will you
call me daddy?" I shook my head no...that was sick!!!!
He slapped my face and said "you little tramp...your pussys not good
enough for me? Your not willing to even call me daddy? What kind of
fucking whore are you? We saw all your god-damned sex toys and shit and
your precious instructions to leave that shit so you can use it to the
last minute.....Here is what I think of your kind..." smiling all the while
he pissed directly on my face, while holding my chin and it dripped down
my naked body and onto my front room carpet.
He was laughing as he left. Then he did the oddest thing...he picked up
the door off it's hinges, they had removed the metal pieces to it, and
carried it to the truck......he was already calling to his friends as he was
leaving about "You lazy fuckers, you could have carried this god-damned
door..." I heard his voice trail off.
The piss was dribbling down my chin, and onto my stomach and into my
pubic hair. This was the first time that I had tasted some one else's
piss. It was much worse tasting than my own....I went to the shower to
wash up...the bathroom door was locked. It had been nailed shut. I went
and checked all the other doors. The workmen had given me only access to
my front room, computer room and kitchen.
They had left my clothes on the floor (such as they were), the dildos,
the computer, and not much in the way of food in the fridge. The water
had been disconnected to the house, so had the cable and there was no
phone just the computer.
I had no way to wash up. I got on line, all pissy still. He was waiting.

"You did good, Tulip" He said.
I thanked him and asked him for an explanation.
"You do not need to know everything. You have been awarded a total of
twenty six beads by my count, and you will find them in your backyard."
I noticed my backdoor was missing too, flies buzzing around the door
way. My backyard was not totally private. There was a fence on one side
but my neighbors could see over it if they looked in, and there was wood
around the other two sides of the backyard, but it wasn't very private.
"You will find a roll of toilet paper and a garden hose out there....your
house water inside the house, has been shut off to save you some money,
you really should have saved more money....You will use that to wash up
and naturally the yard will be your toilet....there is one rule about it
though....."
"What is that? Master" I said impatiently, ready to back out even if it
meant risking everything.
"You must crawl if you are going outside. The workmen said that the
neighbors could easily see you....I don't want them getting a good look at
your naked body unless I am there to see the look on your face. Your
lucky I am not coming out to your house, I'd have you seduce your lovely
neighbor!" My neighbor was a fat-ass white-trash Roseanne look-alike
that dyed her hair bleach blonde and kept it in an 80's style.
"Hands and knees, but your permitted to roll on your back if you want to
wash your belly...You'll be getting up about 4am to catch the bus.....no
more of that cardboard shit either....if you don't want to wear the nice
leather bra I picked out for you, then you will wear nothing
underneath...you'll find that for that oversight on your part the top
buttons have been removed from all of the blouses, and only the thinnest
ones have been left...now go outside and get your necklace and put it on,
then return and I will tell you something important...you won't have to
use those signs every hour any more, because you don't have a
phone....you're a lucky bitch tonight..."
Lucky? Unlucky perhaps. On my hands and knees I crawled out across my
lawn, to the water hose...he hadn't said I could wash the cum and piss out
of my hair and I made the assumption that he would be angry if I did.
The pee and cum stung my eyes a little, but it was tolerable. I got the
necklace. It had a little tulip design and said "Tulip" on it were
twenty six beads.  Crawling back in, not having to get up to open the
door, I realized that any one could come walking in, and mentioned it
when I got back to the PC.  "I get so tired of your whining, My little
slave...no one wants anything in your house, but if anyone comes knocking
you just tell them your getting ready to move.
I have already made arrangements with your landlord...you can always get
another apartment when you finish your obligation..."
I asked him if this really turned him on, and he replied "Oh yes, Sherry
this really is coming along nicely, I had expected it to be more
difficult to find information on you, and as you are so intelligent, you
can appreciate the finer points to some of the things I require of you,
in the past the white-trash that served me didn't understand the
complexities of the depravity I required of them have been quite
generous with the beads as a result. It would seem that since you are so
compliant you could almost earn enough beads without leaving your home
and serving me for the full week....naturally if you do earn enough, you
can leave as soon as you do, I won't require you to finish the week."
How generous, I thought mockingly to myself and he added "Oh, I called
you Sherry didn't I? Well that earns you an extra bead...that will be our
next rule, what do you say? If I should call you Sherry, instead of your
slave name you will receive one bead, of course I will also have to
bless my gift with a slap across your face, since I am not there to do
it in person this is a freebie!"
I told him that sounded like a GOOD rule. "Of course" he added "You fail
to call me Master and that costs you a bead, and a slap across the face
as well."
"Okay, on to the gifts, first let me show you something....BTW" (BTW:
means by-the-way in chat) "The necklace looks lovely on you, but you'll
need to earn a collar to hold all six hundred beads, and maybe an
anklet, I am experimenting with some larger ones to count as 20 or 50...if
you don't have room, you'll be wearing the beads out your Ass hole. I am
sure it's getting big enough now...."
I wasn't shocked by this. I had seen the photos of women with anal
beads, and while it didn't look like fun going in one at a time, it
surely didn't look fun going out by being yanked all at once. "You
aren't wearing your bootie plug? It's on the rug in the front room....tsk
tsk....it's time for you to upgrade anyway...go get it and put it in your
mouth, then come back...after tomorrow you'll be taking it out and
FedExing it to me...I'll also be wanting a used condom tomorrow, but
you'll be told about that in the morning."
I went and got the bootie plug, sucking on it like a baby's dinky in the
"privacy" of my own house, I knew that my windows had no curtains, and
if my neighbor had been watering his lawn he might have seen me crawl
outside, and chances were he'd be seeing me at my PC from the chest up
in the nude.  "You did so well not washing off the cum and piss from
your hair and body....I am very proud of you...since you don't have a phone
anymore you don't have to hold up a sign every hour, besides the work
men found your cue cards that you hand wrote. Very sloppy, tulip...they
are sending me those...you'll also have your picture ID waiting for you.
You see the workmen took your purse as they walked out, you really must
keep an eye on your purse when your sucking off strange men, that's a
good lesson for a whore like you to learn." He was right, it was missing
from the front room, it had everything in it.
"You won't be needing any of that stuff, your credit cards maxed out
today!" (10,000 dollar limit between me and my ex, and I stand to get
100,000 from life insurance). "This cost you a pretty penny, because the
workmen didn't want to go buy it, but they picked you up a clear purse
today...it's on the counter. In it, you will find a dildo, tampons, your
birth control, five dollars in wadded up bills, handcuffs, K Y Lube, a
can of beans, several packets of mayonnaise and at least 12 condoms,
multi-colored I believe." I swallowed real hard, as I looked at the
clear purse, sure any one looking at this purse would think I was on my
way to a sex club.
"You don't see color?" I asked, curious why I asked that question first
of all the things to wonder about.
"No Tulip, your budget didn't allow for anything other than Black and
White, well in the front room it's grainy color. Your not getting a very
good return on your investment, almost no one was willing to pay 9.95 a
month to access your live web cam, It's okay because it's about to get
disconnected." I was shocked, but I should have guessed he would try and
broadcast what I had been doing to perverts globally.
"You like Mayo?" he asked. What a stupid question that was, but not
having any choice but to have the conversation I told him I didn't
really care for it. "That's too bad Tulip, you will now eat it on
everything...you'll find your kitchen is stocked with carrots, cucumbers,
ham, cheese, honey, hard boiled eggs and beans. You won't be eating
anything except for the packets of mayo on beans until you arrive. The
other things are just for you to offer guests or to use when you
masturbate tonight." Oh boy, how fun I thought to myself, mockingly.
"You will eat beans twice a day, once in the break room and some time at
night, each time you will cover the entire surface of the bowl with
mayonnaise...and if anyone asks you will say you love the stuff" I asked
if this was to make me fart? (hey, I had three brothers growing up,
trust me I know all about farting, they actually had it down to some
kind of science, and respected each other for who was the best at it).
"Well yes dearie...but don't worry, if I get tired of the fruity smell of
your butt hole, I can always clean you out, it should also make you nice
and regular, one thing you'll be doing a lot of when you get up here is
making sure your body is working perfectly, part of the whole fitness
thing, want you to be nice and healthy when you arrive, be thankful for
the beans, Tulip. There are a lot worse things you could eat. With the
exception of cum, you will be on all piss diet for now, because I can
see that you haven't really gotten used to the taste. If you had thanked
that last workman for pissing on your face, like a good little fuck
slave, then I'd have been more lenient, but that's what training is all
about Tulip, so you can make mistakes like this and not get beaten for
them like you will if you do them when you enter slavery. Do you
understand?"
"Yes....." I replied, but I was starting to understand less and less about
how I had let things get this far out of hand. "When people see this big
white dildo in my purse, won't they ask questions?" I asked him.
"Yes, tell them it's a sport massager for your sore muscles....it says so
on the side. Honestly, you'll have to become a better liar and not rely
on me for the answers to all the questions, if they don't believe you,
ask them to smell it...of course you'll be bluffing because from now on
you will use that at your desk instead of holding up notes anytime you
get a single ring phone call. You will use it under your skirt, and you
will do so on the bus ride to and from work."
I said "but I'll get all smelly....from my own juices."
"Gosh, you have an excuse for everything, of course that's one thing
that delights me about you, Tulip...yes, that is the point. I want them to
smell you."
I asked naively "but first you say I should lie that it's not a dildo,
and then you want me to clearly look like a slut, why lie?"
He said "Great question, let me give you my opinion on why cunts like
you must lie." He said philosophically "You must lie because that is
your nature as a bitch, You must lie because you know it is wrong to lie
to nice people, you must lie because that way you can appear like a slut
but deny it, it's confusing and it sends out mixed messages....it's just
like women who dress slutty at the mall and then get mad when a guy
stares at them. If there was any logic at all to that, then they
wouldn't be cunt-bitch-whores like you. Except your too logical, hell
you could almost pass for a man, I mean your boobs give you away, but
you have to have everything make sense, I need to break you of that.
It's enough to know that I want you to lie to people about what you are
some times, and yet still look like the cunt dog that you are."
"Now, I have wasted enough time with you tonight, I am having phone sex
with another girl in a few minutes, but rest assured some one will be
watching, you are to eat your beans, do your masturbation and
stretching, work out, then you can go outside and wash off with the
water hose, don't waste water- no longer than five minutes. If you have
to use the bathroom you can use the back yard for now....Oh and tomorrow I
have some surprises for you, should I tell them to you now?"
"I guess so." I said wearily.
"That's not the right response, if I were there I would slap your face"
"Sorry Master, I would be pleased to hear your surprise"
"Well, first tonight you can sleep anywhere you like, your bed room has
been locked up anyway, and your bed was loaded up anyway. You can sleep
in any of the three rooms or if you prefer outside under the starry
skies, it's nice this time of year. You will sleep with your dildo in
your pussy, and your butt plug, and one in your mouth. You will notice
that all your dildos are now a little larger, and the only small ones
you'll see have a big end on it, for "DP" (Double penetration of two
holes, mouth-nose, or ass-suzi, master is fond of using abbreviations,
it makes him seem like an expert). "
"What else master?" sensing this was not the end.
"At work tomorrow, all your pantyhose, bra's and garments I didn't care
for have been sorted and are on your desk, you will make a sign that
says "Free" and place it by your desk. You will just tell people it's
time for you to make a fashion change. I had wanted you to do a garage
sale with that stuff so poor people could dig through them and sniff
them, and you could model them as well, but there won't be time, you
will be leaving Friday night, and the best garage sales are on Saturday.
"
"I understand Master, that will be wonderful!" I lied.
"Tulip, you are the queen of Sarcasm...but I can't fault you for saying
what I told you to say, okay...tomorrow I will show you what's buried
under this house...notice the gas man reading the meter? Full access to
your mothers home...." He posted a pic of my mom's house, If I even
suspect you are going to try to get someone to help you or escape,
kaboom...now don't make me do that....it would make me angry, and you don't
have so far to go...."
I was shocked and didn't say anything, it surely was a picture of my
mom's house.
"Cool thing is, she lives in my home town. You may get to visit her,
good thing your daughter is staying at your In-Law's house....she wouldn't
want to see mommy the slave...but I am sure your own mom is mature enough
to recognize your grieving and so you need a change in life, and this
new fitness thing with me as your coach/boyfriend will be just what you
need to help you....of course, try to back out, and I blow her up....tough
choice?"
"No, I will serve you Master" I said, scared now for my own life as well
as my family.
"You will start wearing make up on your nipples and pussy lips
tomorrow....I don't understand why you didn't start already...and since it
will be 4am when you have to start getting ready for work, you can get
dressed out in the front yard. Your through with clothes in the house
for now. You make terrible choices anyway...never coordinated, when you
get here we will have to work on picking the right outfit and
accessories...I just don't think you appreciate leather enough. Deny that
you have make up on your nipples if any one asks you....but I think that
it will leave a nice red circle, and help them to stand out, I don't
think EVERYBODY at work has seen them yet, and we don't have much time
left....You'll also be trying out a new hair style, I don't like you with
curls, straighten it, and wear it in pig-tails tomorrow...there should be
something around you can use for a bow.....I asked them to add a bigger
battery to your electric set, and if I have to ask you again to get your
legs wider and be a little more generous with holding the wires to your
body...don't be such a priss miss about it, because I guarantee that when
you arrive, you'll wish you had the practice that I Am allowing...do I
make myself clear?"
"Thank you, master" I was crying when he left the chat room. I started
to warm up my beans....
Seven:
Day Four of my Training, Bead Count: 27
The night before was the normal routine for me, of dildos and exercise.
At one point my nerves got so bad that I hung my head out the back door
hole, and threw up. I am sure it was a combination of nerves, fears, and
strenuous exercise coupled with eating only mayo, beans and drinking my
own pee. The last thing I was allowed to do was wash myself off with the
warm garden hose water and sneak a drink from it, which I Actually felt
guilty for. Can you imagine how I got to think that I should feel guilty
for sneaking a drink of my own garden hose? It was pretty cool night
air, and I suppose what made me feel the worst was that my nipples got
hard outside when I washed myself off this way, letting the water just
fall down on my back and tummy. Don't make any mistake I wasn't "turned
on", but there is no denying that my body was sensitive, in fact that
night the electrical charge on the experiment kick was much higher. Not
enough to burn, but definitely enough to where you couldn't set the wire
down on you any more.  I could only tap it lightly on the hood of my
clit or the nub of my nipples without flinching. It was enough that the
nipples had puffed up some.
That morning I got up around 3:30 am, not having been able to sleep much
anyway. Taking the dildos out of my body, I began to quickly put on the
only make up I had, which was a sort of a dollar-store/trailer park all
purpose kit that didn't include any base. It was pretty much something
that 13-year-old girls get for birthdays, as "play make up". The shades
were bright and gaudy, and I didn't have a mirror any more since my
bathroom had been locked up. I did my best, and took the lipstick and
applied it to my nipples, suzi lips, mouth (not in that order). It
didn't feel that bad, I thought it was going to feel waxy and cakey on
my boobs, but I hardly noticed it. I was pretty sure anyone who saw
would notice the Parisian pink shade of lipstick on my boobs. (Most of
you who read this will be Men I am sure, so if you don't know what
Parisian Pink is, suffice to say it's one of the thousands of shades out
there, that doesn't look good on anybody, at least no one I know, hot
pink lipstick). I knew this was going to be a hugely bad day for me,
because most people had already noticed I wasn't wearing a bra and
looking at my nipples the fact that now they were going to suddenly
stand out, was going to be a huge sign that seemed to say "HEY, I want
people to LOOK AT ME!" and that not wearing a bra, and putting on
inappropriate clothed had not been enough, no now I was basically saying
to the men who were passing by my desk with increasing frequency, "I
REALLY WANT YOU TO LOOK AT ME".
Today, I had to put my hair in pig tails, wrapping my blonde hair like
two handle bars on the side of my head, I wasn't looking like my old
self. With the cheap make up, the fact that since I am very pale I still
have freckles, and the new hair, I looked at myself in the mirror and
thought "Oh god, I could get carded looking like this...I don't even have
a picture ID."
I wasn't allowed to put on the leatherwear today (no huge loss), but I
had relied on that to keep the bootie plug in....without it, I felt like
it was going to constantly pop out, and that I had to sort of walk with
shorter steps. I looked out the front door (There was no door to open, I
just hid behind the wall and poked my head around the door), took a huge
breath and ran out into the front yard. There is no one in my
neighborhood going to work at 4am..but this was the first time I was
expected to go outside, carrying all my clothes with me...even shoes. I
ran across my yard in my bare feet to a tree, and crouched down, while I
slipped on the skirt and shirt. It didn't button all the way up, in fact
it kept falling open so that I had to walk very straight, instead of
with my shoulders slumped. It would be that or keep my hand on the top
part of the shirt, which I am sure would look a lot less natural. I
guess it's better to have good posture anyway.  Today, there would be no
hiding my new necklace either...or the fact that it said "Tulip". I
reasoned that I didn't have to say my name WAS Tulip, since It wasn't
July 1st yet, this was just `practice'.
Fully dressed and no one had saw me, my pulse was racing and my hart
pounding, as I strapped myself into the high heels and began my long
walk to the bus stop. My new purse jingle-jangling, I just knew that
today I would either get a reprimand OR fired, and that I probably
shouldn't even go to work. I kept thinking about how casually he showed
me the picture of my mothers house, and made his threats. I am thankful
I am a Taurus, and Thankful that my brothers had been crude to me when I
was growing up.  Having three brothers, I was used to fart jokes, them
burping the alphabet, "frogs" in the arm, titty twisters, Indian arm
burns, and as we got older I remember them playing tricks on me, nothing
evil, just stealing my clothes while I took a shower, or throwing my
homework back and forth to each "monkey in the middle". How does this
prepare me? Well it taught me to fight back, to stand up for myself, and
to not get grossed out easily. I wasn't "fighting back" in the sense,
that I told him to go to hell and dared him to unleash his shit storm on
my life, obviously. I was "fighting back" though by following the orders
and still keeping my sense of dignity and purpose, by not giving in to
my fear fully and letting it control me. I was scared, still am scared.
I won't lie about that! Yet, the things my brothers did to me seemed
comforting because I knew that I could be tough if I had to be tough,
and that he wasn't going to break me into a marshmallow who just
wallowed in her own filth because she "liked it", no matter what he made
me say to the contrary.
I am also thankful I am a Taurus, because I am stubborn. As long as he
kept his end of the deal, didn't lie or twist the rules unfairly, then I
would abide my agreements, and being a Taurus was comforting to know
that I wouldn't give up. I figured he WOULD twist the rules around, but
only in the sense that he would use the rules to his every advantage,
not just change their meaning or change the rules without warning.
Before I knew it, I had stopped thinking about all this, I was on the
bus and masturbating with my dildo under my dress. I had been day
dreaming all about my brothers and those other thoughts I just told you,
and without even thinking about had been playing with myself. The person
next to me new what it was I was doing, but I had chosen a normal
seeming black man to sit next to, I guess subconsciously realizing that
he WOULD see, but probably would be discreet and not tell the rest of
the passengers, which is just what he did, every now and then letting
his glance linger too long and going "mmmm..mmmm....mmmm" As If that was
going to open up some dialogue between me and him.
I just smiled at him, as I got off the bus, snapping the lipstick ringed
dildo back into the purse. I smelled my body-smell, the juices of my
suzi I could hear a few people applaud as I was walking out.....I decided
to take a risk and before stepping out at my final stop, turned, and
took a bow. I got a little more applause, and went to work. It made me
sort of happy that at the very least they hadn't disapproved. At the
very least, it was not as dangerous as I thought to ride the bus. They
just thought I was some free spirit who liked to put on a show.
Walking briskly into work, I was arriving late a few minutes every day
as a result of this huge commute. So I had to walk past almost
everyone's cube, which had sort of felt like "running the gauntlet" if
you know what that means, if like me you don't really, it means you have
to walk past every single gawking normal person in your office's cube,
and they stare at you in disbelief, disgust, shock, lust, or some
mixture of all four, because they have no idea why your doing this, only
that your boobs are bouncing freely in a see-thru shirt, and today, if
they catch them on the up or downswing, they'd notice that they are
smeared with lipstick. The only good part today was, you know that
feeling you get when you're about to go on vacation? Or an extended
weekend? You don' t have enough time left at work to get involved in a
deep project, so you are on auto pilot? It's a good feeling, like "I
won't have to see these same people again for a while!". I hadn't
planned, or couldn't have planned that it would be like this, but it did
feel good getting to my seat and hiding behind my desk. I was also glad
no one could see up my skirts from behind the desk.
I noticed my papers had been moved around, and as I settled in to see
what there was for me to do today (for my employer, AND master), the
phone rang.  It was the new jersey voice guy again "Hey sweetness, looks
good....like the purse?"
I didn't know how to respond, "Yes" I said sweetly.
"Good, listen I don't have a lot of time and I got a lot of new stuff
for you..." My hart sank as he continued "Look in your top drawer...you'll
find a pack of cigarettes, your about to take up smoking...."
"But I don't smoke, and I quit before I had my first child, please,
what's the?" He stopped me as I asked not to make me a smoker.
"Listen Hon, just keep them in your purse for now...might want you to go
on smoke break every now and then.....you'll also notice a purple beeper,
you are to wear that at all times when your out in public...took the time
to even get your name put on it....whenever you get a page, call the
number back and do whatever your told." It was neon purple, and said
`Tulip' in some kind of funky-looking writing that looked like lightning
bolts. This was a true whore pager. It didn't have the pager number on
it, which was fine with me, I surely wasn't going to be giving out the
number to anyone. I swallowed, and clipped the heavy pager to the waist
band of my skirt.
"You have a mug, customized with the name Tulip on it.....you'll keep that
full at all times while your working...but you will drink the entire
contents three times a day...." I knew that he meant with my own pee, I
wasn't going to even ask.
I did ask "people will smell it, or ask...." He cut me off before I could
finish.
"God, you are a nit-picker" as if he couldn't believe I would have a
problem with this. "I don't care if you tell them your drinking it
because it's good for the skin, or tell them it's fucking lemonade. I
don't care how it smells, tell them that it's THEM or that it's YOU for
christ sakes...who cares what anyone thinks about you here? They know
you're a cunt whore anyway...I love the rumors that have circulated about
you already....all untrue...but they have given me some good ideas..."
I swallowed again, while he continued "anyway, you can sip it or just
swallow it all at once, but it is to remain full so that you have enough
to drink until the end of the day....now today you have a few things you
have to do, so you might want to take notes....first, you have to take out
that ass plug and get a used condom, and fed-ex them to the PO box (he
gave it to me again, insisting I was a `forgetful cunt'). "whoever you
get the condom from is to see you take out the plug and seal it up with
his condom, and you are to seal the envelope with a kiss. I don't care
what you tell him is the reason."
"Who, would I approach about this?" I asked.
"God-damn it, let me finish the fucking list?" he got angry, "Okay shit,
there are about a hundred guys who would fuck you here, hell I'd do it
myself if I didn't think you were a loose scum bitch, but the two places
I'd go looking if I were you, and thank god I am not...is the mail room,
lots of nerdy geeks down there, and the guy who is next on your list."
I paused and let him continue, biting into the waxy lipstick on my
bottom lip, "Adam Braswell, at the end of your row." This was some kind
of self-appointed gods gift to women, who hit on every new girl at the
office, without much success. Last year when I started here, he hit on
me and I told him I was married, end of story, yet he has always been
very brusque with me, which is fine with me. "You will steal a picture
he has of his mom, actually I don't care how you get it, you can offer
him a blow job for it...you can't trade anything in your purse for it, but
you can trade anything in your clothes for it, get the picture?" I
nodded at my phone silently and he continued.
"Later today, you don't have to ride the bus home My nephew will be
coming by to pick you up...you will wait for him by that 7-11 a block from
the office. You will treat him as if he had the authority of a
master....and don't try to confuse him or make him feel sorry for you, he
is a little shy when it comes to women, but if I find out you tried to
manipulate him, I'll tell Robert and you'll lose all your beads.......now
depending on whether you have the picture of Braswell's momma, is where
you'll go. If you don't, there is a good chance that ...well hell, I don't
want to ruin the surprise." I did want him to `ruin the surprise' as he
said, because I wanted to know what I was in for either way, I guess it
was safer not knowing.
"Alright Piss Miss, it's been fun.....you got a cup to fill...." I wanted to
ask him more questions, and on how I would recognize his nephew....but he
hung up the phone. How frustrating....it was time to go the bathroom and
fill up my first cup....I tried to sip it for a time, but found that was
worse than just shooting it......then I went and filled it back up and let
it sit....this was going to be a nasty day. I couldn't get the taste out
of my mouth, it was a sort of stale apple cider taste. The best I could
do was chew on the wax from my new lipstick.
That's when I started thinking about actually getting a little work done
and trying to come up with a plan on how to get the frame....or the
condom......In between projects I used the dildo, not sure why...I mean no one
could see under my desk, but it helped to take my mind off my immediate
problems too. Right before lunch, I went and confronted Adam.
"Hey Adam, that's a nice frame." His cube was at the end of a row, so it
was private, except that our voices carried.
"Yes?" he said, almost as if expecting me he was so pleasantly
surprised.  Yet, I am sure that since everyone had seen me and heard the
rumors, it was probably just happy time in Adams cube that I was there.
"Well, let me whisper it in your ear." I could tell he was turned on.
This was going to be one of those unbelievable, explainable moments in
Adam's life that was written about in men's magazines, the sexy office
worker comes up and offers a blow job for no other reason than the sheer
joy of it. I bent over to whisper in his ear, letting him get a clear
look at my boobs while I faced him bent over, as they hung down....I
figured it wouldn't matter since he'd soon be seeing a lot worse. I
whispered as I considered how I meet steal his frame. "I want to suck
your cock........"
He looked at me with a huge amount of enthusiasm and shook his head...I
put my fingers to his lips and continued "But I have to have something
from you in return..."
He looked confused, and I could tell he was thinking I was about to ask
for money.
"No..no.....you have to promise that this is our little secret....and I need
two things to remember you by.......how about that picture over there?" I
asked and then I added "and the condom afterwards...."
He looked suddenly angry and said "Why a picture of my mom?" wrinkling
up his face "And a condom, hell know...I don't want a blow job through a
condom."
I could tell this was going bad. I hadn't really thought much about what
he would feel, I figured all men were like dogs and you just asked them
if they want to have sex and they do.
I hushed him down..."Okay, what do you want? I want those two things from
you today...."
He said "That's some weird shit, I don't know why you want either of
those from me, or why now....unless your just working your way down the
rows...."
I shook my head know, trying to remain in control of the situation by
showing a vulnerable side, yet guiding the conversation, the fact that I
was caressing his ear probably helped too. "Oh no Adam, remember I was
married last year? Well I am not married now.....and the condom is for me
to drink later....." inspired to lie, thinking that master probably
planned something like that anyway.
Instead of getting turned on by the thought of me giving myself to him
and being nasty, he got defensive "Jeez, your sick....."
I thought that would be the end of our conversation, when I started to
turn to leave he added ".....okay....fuck you in your ass and you can have
the condom....."
I am glad he couldn't see my face, I was turning away from him, and
fixing my top so that it wasn't wide open anymore....I had known anal sex
was going to be involved in my slavery, but I guess I had got
comfortable with the training so far, the blow jobs had been the most
severe thing I had to do with anyone else....."Okay...on lunch..." I said.
"No, I am not missing my lunch..." he seemed to make me disgusted with
that comment, like it was a huge inconvenience for him to fuck my butt
hole at work. I really had no respect at all for him at this point.
"Let's go in conference room 2b, In five minutes...."
When I arrived, he was ready for me...he seemed to think that I was
looking for some kind of sexy, erotic, seductive moment, that maybe I
wanted a long term relationship had brought the fed-ex envelope.... I
turned and locked the conference room door....and eyed him carefully as I
tried to get up my confidence. It really would have been a lot easier if
he hadn't been trying to seem passionate, in the bright lights and cold
sterile air of the conference room, with the `office smell' in the air,
and frankly with a guy who I respected less and less each second, this
was simply not a turn on.
It wasn't about turn-ons, it was about getting it done....and in a hurry.
I didn't want anyone seeing the pee left in my cup on my desk. I turned
around and tried to silently hint that I didn't like these soft kisses
he was trying to lay on my shoulder, and that his flowery words sounded
about as clich  as some kind of old cinemax soft-porn movie from the
70's.
In a few moment, I had stripped. He was looking at my bootie plug and
not saying a word...I pulled it out and set it in the fed-ex envelope
without any explanation. I could see that he wanted one, and I was
stalling for a good one. The best I could come up with was "Listen, you
wanted anal....you don't want to take your time warming me up do you?"
He grinned and nodded, thinking that I was going to be his best fuck
buddy on a daily basis. I wasn't going to give this loser any more of my
time than I had to...getting down on my hands and knees, he followed
quickly. I had to help guide him in, he seemed so nervous and totally
awkward, that and he seemed to want to spend time LOOKING at my rear
end........I even had to help him put on the condom.....
A strange truth, it seems that the geekiest, dorkiest, shyest guys are
also the biggest hung, that's my experience at least. He was no
exception, in fact he was king of the geeks with a pecker this big, and
since I had TOLD him that I was ready, he just pushed himself in my rear
hole.....It was only bad for the first few minutes, without any
lubrication at all as he pushed and pulled his cock through my butt hole
I felt like I wanted to tighten every muscle in my body and snap it off!

He kept stopping, never having any rhythm, he just started and then
pulled out almost all the way and took a long look. I was holding myself
cheeks open for him to get his good look at it, but he couldn't seem to
get enough. Then on one long look of his, I farted.
Now consider that I had eaten beans the night before, and what he was
doing was opening up my rear end, it's too be expected...that's when he
got grossed out and was going to quit. I wanted to call him a wimp, but
I did stink and I could see why that ruined his move. I eventually got
his confidence up again and he started again. This time with me talking
to him, reassuring his pathetic attempts at romance, telling him what he
wanted to hear and that I loved this, he came....
I learned a really important lesson that day about men and condoms and
how to take it off. I was so pleased that it was over, that I slid up
off his cock, my rear end was wet with sweat and stickiness. I should
have brought a napkin....I was peeling off the condom, a huge smile on my
face, even though my asshole stung like hell.
That's when he came again, right onto my smiling face, hit me in the
nose and worse on the shirt and skirt. I couldn't believe he came twice
one right after the other. When my husband was finished cumming that was
pretty much it, he was wore out after sex. Some men though can just cum
several times in a row.....I tried not to show my anger.....boxed up his
condom, and collected the frame and got dressed....
I left him in the conference room holding his cock, asking "what time
tomorrow?...wasn't it good?" as I scurried to the bathroom to do my best
to wash his cummy stains from my clothes and to clean off my bottom
before THAT stained the rear of my dress with the sticky spunk......


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