Author Commentary – thanks for feedback on part 5 I had a little time last night and explained a bit more. No problem if some didn’t love it. Again this was my life at the time and what I did. For me…..for her……and now for you. This chapter is much longer, and has a few surprises along the way….btw someone did ask how long ago this was………..the present story time is About Sept/Oct 2010 at this point.
By about the 7 month mark of our arrangement I felt like our relationship was beginning to turn a corner. In many ways I felt like any normal couple with a few variations. She handled the finances, yes, but I thought of it as a joint account. And concerning the allowance which was averaging anywhere from $85-$135/week I really didn’t need anything. Most Saturday afternoons, sometime after lunch we would go to the supermarket together, mostly so she could control what we ate each week. Which worked out pretty well because I had been cooking my own meals since the age of 11. Growing up Italian in a divorced household, both my father and grandfather cooked, I just had to tweak my cooking a bit by adding some healthier meals because she insisted that we stay in shape. That was easier for me because she would limit my calorie intake. Not to the point of being malnourished, but I really wasn’t allowed to snack, drink soda, or eat chocolate.
At home we were, for the most part, a normal couple with a few variations (this may sound insane but to me it was my normal) I ate at the table just like mistress, only I had to eat while kneeling on the floor with a pillow under my knees.
I was also allowed to sleep in the same room as my mistress but I had a single mattress on the floor (we had plenty of empty space in the loft), while she needed the king size bed for all her pillows and stuffed Panda collection.
When we watched tv together, sometimes I was granted permission to sit on the couch (if I wasn’t being used as a table or a footstool). It was during those times on the couch She would let me put my head on her lap so she could stroke my hair and pet me. Sort of mother/son like but only because she had not let me penetrate her yet. I would soon find out why.
THE SECRET
I mentioned previously her age, her Filipino background, and her affinity for at least appearing like she was religious (Catholic). I would find out over time that she grew up in a pretty strict household and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if some of her dominant nature ,and perhaps even some of her desire to beat me, even torture me at times, had something to do with her childhood. But if it did, she never said (I learned not to ask those kinds of things because if she wanted me to know something like that she would offer it on her own).
Because we lived in a converted loft, it had large round AC vents and water pipes running along the walls and ceilings, which was perfect for mistress to move me around for training. The physical aspect of my training was slower than most in the sense that I didn’t long for it in a true BDSM sense. If mistress had beat me during our first few weeks I would have almost certainly checked out. However, because she took it slow 2 intense feelings began to emerge. The first brought out the sports/athletic/competition side in me. I was beginning to feel like I had something to prove to myself. If she was using one of her Crops I began counting how many times she would hit me, and between “thank you mistress” and “please, may I have another”, I counted and challenged myself to push further and further. But the second reason was deeper and more intimate. I was in love with my mistress, on some level I always was. But in the beginning it was more about the intrigue and infatuation. This was deeper and I knew it. I took those beatings for her. To prove myself to her. In my mind there were few things in the world as erotic as being bound from that ceiling, completely naked, with my hands clinched above my head, my legs spreads 4 ft wide on the floor, enduring physical pain at the hands of the woman I loved, in order to prove my love and devotion.
It was to that end that I took my first big risk of our arrangement. I wanted desperately for it to be a relationship. That may have been a distinction without a difference to some, maybe even to her, but I wouldn’t know unless I tried. After all, if things didn’t go my way I had about 6 months left on my contract and then I could move on.
Many times (almost everyday) my mistress would ask, “How much do you love your mistress?” Or “Tell your Mistress you love her?” I knew how to respond, that would be instinct to anyone, but in my mind it was shallow, and removed, and limiting. It was a barrier born out of the need to establish what we had as transactional. I wanted more.
So one night following a bad day at work for my mistress (which usually spelled trouble for my well being) she was beating me good. I’m not sure if she drew blood or not but I was pretty close to my limit, let’s put it that way. She whispered in my ear, “Tell your mistress you love her.” And although I responded hundreds of times before with “I love you mistress” this time I couldn’t do it. It was a combination of things. Yes I loved her, but it was the time I had dedicated as well. I felt like I wanted validation that all of this was worth it, that we were going somewhere. So I said it. This time when she asked I turned my head so she could see my sincerity and said “I love you” she hit me again. “Excuse me, I didn’t hear you” she screamed. This time I made sure I was staring right in her eyes. I said it slowly and with an emotional/painful tear “I love YOU”. She walked in front of me and put her hand right next to my face. I thought for sure she was going to smack me. Instead she removed the glove on her right hand and for the first time she grabbed my cock. It felt amazing…after being beaten down for 8 months it was the first emotionally charged sexual contact I had with her. It was overwhelming and it may sound sick but I started to cry….. and as I did she vigorously stroked my cock. To the point that the soft part of her palm was pounding my pelvis so hard she actually left a small bruise. I didn’t care. I glanced down and she opened her mouth and licked her upper lip, and I lost it. I grunted, and then exploded 4ft over her right shoulder, minus a few drops that I had to suck out of her hair after she released me (I didn’t care).
She playfully grabbed my ass and didn’t say a word. She untied me and told me to make her a cup of tea and meet her in the TV room.
I didn’t know what was going to happened next. Maybe it was over. Maybe I would walk in and the contract would be terminated. I remember thinking that maybe all of this would end and we would fall into a normal relationship, which in my emotional state would also have been terrible. I needed her authority, her direction, and most of all I needed to feel needed.
I told her everything and when the dust settled it was a mixed bag. Maybe bag is a bad word to use but I’ll explain that later, but as a teaser its related to the third and final bit of news related to the forthcoming “secret”. On one hand she wouldn’t give me anything that validated my feelings. In my opinion she understood that any normal relationship discussion would be catastrophic, on the other hand I got what I needed.
She agreed to include the possibility that she would let me fuck her if I was willing to pay her for it. She said she would think about a price and get back to me, and I knew it would not be easy to save, whatever the price. In addition, even if I started to get close to saving enough money she could always tempt me into jerking off. But again it was something to strive for, and if there was one thing I enjoyed it was reaching a goal. The second bit of good news I received was that she was enjoying our arrangement (in my mind relationship), and she had ZERO intention of calling it off or stopping as long as I continued to do “my job”. Which meant, eating her gloriously smooth wet pussy everyday, enduring physical pain, sucking her dick, and taking it in the ass with an ever growing collection of lengths and girths. She even kept a little size chart taped to the wall near my mattress when I took a bigger size. Like when you are a kid and you out a pencil mark on your wall when you grew an inch. (Yeah just like that). You haven’t been humiliated until you wake up with a new pencil mark on the wall next your face with a “good boy, I’m so proud of you” on it. I digress, In my mind this meant there was a piece of this that she was doing for herself. The good news was that I think she loved me, but didn’t want to admit it. However, even if she did love me that also meant she loved “this”. I should probably explain “this” a bit. By now you know how I feel about her but what you don’t know is……..I’m not a “think about the future” guy. I take it day-by-day. I’m not a planner. So I had never thought about the possibility that I could fall in love with my mistress, and simultaneously fall in love with our lifestyle. And then the question dawned on me, “oh my god, could I do this forever?” Just like anyone who falls in love “for better, for worse” and on and on; you love who you love and the situation doesn’t factor in. Well that’s where I was. It was an overwhelming thought so I buried it for the time being.
The last thing that came out of our talk was “the secret”.
Because of everything she had put me thru sexually I knew she was a natural and she certainly wasn’t sexually repressed and while I figured she didn’t want to cross the line into sex it never occurred to me that this wasn’t purely a transactional reason.
In an effort to put me down a bit she started talking about not wanting to fuck me in the beginning, and how she was just using me because I let her do whatever she wanted. After awhile of this she says, “Remember the price that I’m going to get back to you on for penetrating me? Well, good luck because I’m a virgin, and I won’t come cheap” WWWWWWHHHHAAAATTTT TTTTHHHEEE FFFUUUCCKK, I said. I freaked out. It was an out of body experience. For a minute I had forgotten everything I had been taught and I broke one of my first rules. The one she had scolded me for in the lobby during our first week together. I asked her a question without asking permission first. Big Mistake
BIG MISTAKE
I guess at that point she had had enough, because she put me in a collar and hooked me to a chain. (Most of the rooms were equipped with a rope tied thru a vent or something stationary so she could hook me up at a moments notice). Sometimes she did this when someone would come over unexpectedly. She would just tie me up in the room like a dog until she return. Anyway I knew she was mad because what she did next is something she would normally have me do. She removed my mattress from the room.
But what she did next was even crazier. When she returned to the room I was chained from, she said something along the lines of the following “you know slave, I was going to hold on to this present and give it to you for your birthday. It was all planned out. I would spend the next few months training you, molding you, keeping you thirsty” I started thinking “keeping me thirsty, you mean hungry…….like hungry for more. Where the fuck is this going? That was my thought………but this was above anything I thought we would even work up to. She unhooks me and drags me into her bedroom (her term not mine, in my mind it was our room but whatever) and on the floor next to where my mattress use to be is a metal square with a clear plastic bag with hole in the bottom, and a toilet seat. I must be an asshole because I still didn’t get it. I thought “she doesn’t want me using the regular bathroom anymore?” “Ok great now I won’t need to walk to the bathroom.” And then she told me.
“Listen slave I hate having to get up in the middle of the night to pee. And because you seem to have to much to say maybe I need to keep your mouth full more often. So beginning tonight when you feel my feet on your chest you better wake up quick and open wide because I’m going to pee down your throat and your going to swallow it. All of it, and if it spills you will lick it up. See I wouldn’t have to do this if you had let me train you properly. You could have made this much easier on yourself.”
Part 7 – Tomorrrow.I’m warned out just thinking about it
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7v0y5b/mf_how_i_went_from_submissive_coworker_to_slave