[FF] [BDSM] When I was twenty two, I spent about a year as a financially compensated sex slave to a couple over twice my age. (Part 7.5 – just context)

Part 7.5

(Note: there’s no sex, just context regarding the remainder of that third night. End note.)

I couldn’t hear what Sweetie and Judith were discussing by the door, but eventually Judith ordered me to get off the bed and come over to them. The vibrators were still buzzing and it made movement difficult especially through the fatigue I felt, but I obeyed as quickly as my body could manage on my trembling legs. It was all I could do to stand, let alone walk, but I did as I was told with sheer force of will, I’d like to believe so, anyways. Eventually I stood in front of Judith, but standing still would prove impossible with the vibrators still active.

I watched as Judith gracefully reached a hand up to Sweetie’s face and brush her hair back over her left ear, both of them smiling intimately at one another before looking to me in my piteous state, their expressions not faltering. I mean, there I was, twitching from the sensations once more coursing through my most sensitive parts, covered in sweat, with two streaks of blood down the front of my chest that were more like smeared lines of scarlet in the dim light, and I had never been so fatigued from simply lying down on a bed for a little while.

Judith took a step back from Sweetie and me, gesturing to the girl who had put her hands behind her back and got down on both her knees in front of me, looking up at me expectantly. I was suddenly confused, but not for long because Judith said,

“Do you want to slap Sweetie across the face?”

I looked between the two of them, dumbstruck. Then suddenly I felt a sudden burst of pain as Judith turned the vibrators up to the highest setting for just a half a second. I clutched at my chest, the slap hurting my nipples even more than the vibrators just had and my scream suddenly turned into a string of curse words as I did everything I could not to collapse to the ground in front of them. Judith repeated her question, word for word.

There was only one answer,

“Yes, Mistress.”

As I raised my hand in preparation to follow through with my action I paused, realizing that I didn’t want to slap Sweetie, but I had been told to, hadn’t I? The memory of mine and Sweetie’s very first time meeting each other flashed through my mind. She had said something rude, and I had wanted to slap her then. Judith must have known. I hadn’t told her I had such a thought, but she’s always looking at me, she probably saw the thought cross my face. In the span of three seconds that I paused, I had decided to hit her. On the forth second, I felt myself slapping Sweetie across the face, hard. On the fifth second, I felt my hand stinging as I looked at it dumbly. I don’t know how long I was like that, but before my eyes really start seeing the world around me, I could hear Sweetie crying.

If you’ll recall, Sweetie had a psychological trigger. Pain, or the threat of pain, always caused Sweetie to cry. I had just caused her to cry. I had done something mean to someone I had come to care about.

While I slowly came out of my mental shock and the sudden pit of regret in my stomach, I smelled a familiar smell: a lit cigarette. Judith was smoking, and inside the house no less. I had thought that was a no smoking in the house rule. She let out a puff of smoke at the side of my face, I couldn’t bare to see whether her expression showed approval or disapproval. I couldn’t bare any more stimulus. Instead of turning up the vibrators, she turned them off as she held the cigarette out to me in two fingers to take.

I took the offered cigarette with my right hand, grasping it weakly in between my shaky fingers, accidentally grabbing it between my middle and ring finger. I put it to my lips automatically, not bothering to hold it like normal; normal didn’t matter in this place anyways. I took a drag, letting the smoke flow back out in shuddering breaths.

Then it happened, I reached my breaking point the exact moment that Judith said,

“Do you want to put that cigarette out on Sweetie’s skin?”

My head jerked to face Judith of it’s own accord. There was no suggestion on her face whatsoever. She simply looked at me, waiting for my reply.

I had discovered the day before that Sweetie had burn scars from someone having put out cigarettes on her skin, it had apparently happened long before she had met Judith and Henry. The specifics aren’t important, only that someone had hurt Sweetie, and it led her onto a bad path. Judith and Henry had rescued her from tragedy, Sweetie had told me as much herself but now I was being asked to do something that felt truly evil, and I wouldn’t hurt that tragically beautiful girl kneeling in front of me.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on the back of my left wrist and I looked down to see myself putting out the cigarette on my own skin. I looked back to Judith saying the only thing that I could,

“No.”

Judith smiled at me. There was no menace or amusement, only a warmth that told me that I couldn’t have given a better answer. Still, she asked,

“No, what?”

I was suddenly so angry at Judith. She had asked me to burn a girl with a cigarette and now she was pointing out my lack of proper etiquette. For that one moment, Judith suddenly looked like a very ugly creature to me, like a monster that prefers the people it eats to be alive and screaming in terror.

With a snarl, I answered her, “No. Mistress.”

Judith closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. She opened them again, looking at me seriously, like a teacher looks at a student when they’re about to give them a lecture on a particularly complicated subject. Judith said,

“That’s not what I mean, Haley. I meant what is your reason for not **wanting** to burn Sweetie?”

She had accentuated the word “wanting” and suddenly, like a bolt of lightning had struck me, I remembered everything that had happened over the course of the last minute or so, then I remembered our verbal exchange with the needles. It all just suddenly came together. I had lied to Judith, over and over, telling her I wanted something that I didn’t actually want. She had only put the needles in me when I had told her the truth.

There long silence was broken by Sweetie’s words,

“Yeah, I think she’s got it. Mind if I go now? I was kinda in the middle of watching The Simpsons and I’d like to see how it ends.”

Tears still glistening on her cheeks and arms still behind her back as she stood on her knees waiting for Judith to dismiss her, Sweetie had regained her emotional control a while ago. Right after I put the cigarette out. Judith thanked her and told her she could go. When Sweetie stood up, she hugged me tightly, then held me out to arms length, her hands on my shoulders as she looked into my eyes. She didn’t say anything, but her smile told me more than words could ever express. As she disappeared out of sight I collapsed to the floor, or tried to, but Judith caught me and held me upright.

She helped me into the bathroom, supporting me every step of the way. Once we got there she helped me into the shower where I leaned against the wall and sank to the floor. She turned the shower head away from me before turning it on and testing the temperature until it was somewhere between warm and hot. The water steamed but it wasn’t hot enough to feel like it was burning. I closed my eyes as I felt the droplets hitting the wall and ricocheting onto my tender skin. Judith joined me shortly afterwards, having removed her uniform, but leaving her hair up in the high pony tail. This shower wouldn’t be for her sake, she was only there to tend to me.

She let me remain seated on the shower floor while she knelt down beside me, giving me a warning that she was going to remove the tape and vibrators. By this point I was pretty numb mentally and physically, but I managed to ask her,

“Is every night going to be like this?”

Her melodic laugh made me open my eyes long enough to see her genuine amusement as she asked me,

“Would you stay if it was?”

I closed my eyes once more as I felt her peel off the tape from my right breast and even though I gritted my teeth, I hadn’t need to. Despite the tape’s strong adhesive, Judith had done this countless times so I hardly felt anything aside from the tenderness of my flesh as her fingers deftly worked to free me of the devices that I hadn’t known could be used for pain as well as pleasure.

Suddenly I wasn’t thinking about what had happened anymore, the past seemed to be meaningless because in that moment there in the shower, her gentle smile and gentler touch as she tended to me, I knew what it was like to feel safe. There didn’t seem to be anything sexual in her touch, just an intimate tenderness and which was something I hadn’t gotten a lot of in my life. To feel I had a home. To feel I had someone that truly cared about me and all that I was; every flaw of my character; every mistake and pathway that led me to meet her in that bar on that fateful night. To feel the goodness that this beautiful human being was capable of. It was heaven. She was heaven. Even if she might give me a little taste of hell from time to time, I knew it was worth it and there was only one answer I could give her,

“Yes.”

Once she was done washing me, she made me turn around so that she could sit behind me, hugging me for a long while as the hot water poured over our bodies, soothing my numbly aching body and mind.

After my shower, I could finally stand on my own once more, aside from the pain it all hadn’t been too demanding, physically at least. But mentally however, my first session with Judith had drained me dry and made me feel a fatigue that I hadn’t felt in a very long time, possibly ever.

All I could think while Judith had gently washed my body of the blood, sweat, and tears, was that I needed to apologize to Sweetie for hitting her. I knew she would forgive me, and I knew a little slap must’ve been nothing to her, just another drop in the bucket, but it just felt like something that I needed to do. Maybe if I apologized, I could stop replaying that moment in my mind.

That proved to be a false hope, obviously, since I wrote it all in my journal that night after I had apologized to her, stating that despite it feeling good to apologize and be forgiven, it did nothing to ease the existential pain I felt in that moment after I had made her cry with my own action. That had been the only time I have or ever will strike Sweetie.

To this day, I’m not certain whether or not Judith would have allowed me to actually put the cigarette out on Sweetie’s skin or if she would have forced me to stop. Sweetie and I talked about that moment, years after the fact, and she told me that she didn’t know whether or not Judith would have stopped me, but Sweetie was sure that if I had done it, she would have consented to it and forgiven me. Sometimes her compassion can be both inspiring and irksome.

After that third night, I never lied to Judith again and I almost never wished to refuse her, but that may have just been because she did such a good job training me.

When Judith came home on the fourth night she gave me my second gift: A key to the front door of her home. I could come and go as I pleased so long as I respected the house rules. It wasn’t simply a key to their door, but a key to their lives and their secrets. Finally, I had been given a gift that was more precious to me than every other trinket or favor they ever gave to me: their trust.

*(End of Part 7)*

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/afdxr9/ff_bdsm_when_i_was_twenty_two_i_spent_about_a