How i Came to Love being a Slave

Saturday July 15, 2001

That mother fucker is history. Gone. Done. I got back from the hospital after the police arrested him. I'm glad I wasn't these when they got him. I don't know what I would have done. The phone's ringing off the hook and I'm not going to answer it again.

His mom, then his sister called. Mrs. McSweeney started out nice, just concerned, wondering what in the world went wrong. All too soon she's calling me a liar! Her Robert would not hit me! I must have done something! 10 minutes after I hung up, his sister called. Kathy really wanted to help. Apologized for her mom. I guess they're all freaked out too. I guess I understand. But I just couldn't talk. I did think to tell her to come get her brother's stuff. I had already thrown everything out the window. I just told her I couldn't think straight and I'm still very scared, please just leave me alone now. I guess she came. I don't see his stuff outside.

I'm going to a hotel. What if he comes here? i don't know how this works. Maybe I'll go to that shelter place. I've got the card they gave me in my purse.

When you walk into an emergency room bleeding and crying, they are smart enough to ask what happened. You better believe I told them. Hell yes I want to press charges. I have a cracked rib and I needed eight stitches in my lip and twelve in my forehead above my eyebrow. I've got black and blue finger marks around my neck for God's sake. Rodney was arrested for assault and battery, something about domestic dispute and aggravated whatever. I do not care.

He was stoned. I see now that he was trying to weasel some way to tell me what he'd done without looking like an asshole. When I found out he had emptied our "honey moon home" account, I just asked him what's going on. Yeah, I was upset, but I just asked. The muva fucker back-handed me right across my mouth and told me to shut up! We had... I had every fucking penny I owned in that account. That stupid bastard had to... had to.. pay a fucking gangster or something. He still owes them 10s of thousands of dollars! What is this? some 1950's movie? Our future home.. our dreams... everything GONE! and he hit me! And he kept hitting me.

No matter what I said, he hit me. I ran into the bathroom and locked the door but he just broke it open. Everything is horrible. Trust, love, hope, future all collapsed in a jumbled wreck. I ran out the door, jumped in my car, went to the hospital.

I'm broke. I don't want to ever see him again. I don't know what to say, I mean to write. That fucking bastard punched me when I cried and begged him to... just make everything right. Was that too much to ask? What about a home and a baby together? What about just going on together? Working and loving and oh shit! It's all gone.

Some dumb government official was going to help me, or maybe it was some loser charity, I don't remember. A place to stay. Safe. away from danger. Care. I don't care. I didn't listen. House of something. Health services, Whatever. I left the hospital and went home. That asshole is in jail. Couldn't stay home. It's not home. Lease in both our names. Fucking apartment. I miss my Mom, my home. Why did I sell our home?

OK. So I called the number on the card she gave me. I went to meet a bunch of pitiful losers. I can't talk. Went to shelter. It is shelter. They leave me alone. They do understand. At least I can sleep tonight. I got stoned first and cried myself to sleep. What do I do?

I've got to write. This laptop is me. This diary helps. Always helps. Always helped. I'm me. No matter what. There is a future. I can stay here I think they told me. Going to sleep now. Maybe that'll help.

Sunday August 5,2001

Being broke isn't so bad. Alice let me move in with her. The apartment is kinda small, but hey! we've been buddies forever. Her couch folds out to a very comfy bed and there's enough closet space since I hardly own anything anymore anyway.

She even helped me move in. Alice was surprised when she tried to lift my valise, the one with my handcuff collection. When she dropped it (it must weight 60 pounds!) it fell open. I just laughed and told her that if she was good, I'd show her later.

I guess it had to happen. We had been sort of lovers. I did not fold out the couch last night. Here's how it went...

She kindly emptied one of her closets for me to use. It's the small one, but beggars can't be choosers and it was very sweet of her. After carrying in all of my crap, I wanted a shower. When I came out dripping wet, I realized I'd have to use her bedroom to get dressed again. I toweled off, slipped on a robe and went in her bedroom.

Alice was sitting there brushing her hair. She had changed into a sheer nightie, no bra. "Damn! She looks great!" I could not help but think as I dried my hair. She turned and smiled. "You look so tired Jan, let me brush your hair. It will relax you. You've had a horrible time recently," she offered. I was exhausted and it sounded nice.

I sat on the edge of her bed and she combed out my hair as she continued to blow dry it. Her tits bounced at my eye level as she worked. "She's not wearing any panties either," I thought. I could not help but notice that she shaved her pussy smooth too, just like I did. Her thighs straddled one of mine. Her nipples brushed my face. I could not stop thinking about her as she slowly brushed my hair. For some reason, she slipped my robe off my shoulders and let it slide to the bed.

Our eyes met. She was breathing heavily and so was I. I could not stop myself. I gently stroked the inside of her thigh. She did not stop me. I slowly ran my hand around and caressed her ass. She spread her legs for me. Gently pulling my fingers back again across her pussy. It was wet. She looked at me, dropped the brush carelessly on the nightstand, and pulled open her nightie. She cupped her breasts in her hands and offered a nipple right to my mouth. How could I refuse? I kissed her nipple, gently sucking it in my mouth. She slipped off her nightie and let it drop to the floor.

Without a word, I hugged her waist to me and let my kisses roam down her tummy. She knelt on the bed beside me and we kissed. Our tongues dancing together. We rolled onto the bed still embracing. Her fingers left a trail of sensations as she touched from my neck, down my side, to my crotch. Little shivers followed the path of her gentle touch. She gently doodled with her fingers on my mound.

We laid together staring in each others eyes for a moment. In that fraction of a second, my heart soared like a bird for joy; my thoughts raged with chaos about jobs, debts, and living arrangements; I was ashamed, afraid, and deliriously happy all at the same time. She spoke first. She whispered, "Jan, I was afraid to tell you that I missed you for years. I have always loved you. Please don't leave me again. I had to have you move in, had to."

All my fears evaporated instantly. I hugged her to me and whispered in her ear, "I love you too Alice. I didn't know but now I do. I don't care what anybody thinks. I'm not going anywhere if you'll let me stay." We kissed passionately. Hugging and petting each other frantically. We slid around to face each others pussy and she embraced my thighs as fervently as I did her's as we made love. Gawd! She tastes so good! Gawd! her tounge and lips are magic!

After a while we were giggling like schoolgirls again. She finished brushing my hair. We tried out some new makeup together. It was so natural and fun! She told me she had enough money to get a bigger bed and sheets and stuff. I told her the bed was very cozy as it was. We laughed.

See? It's not so bad being broke!

Sunday February 3, 2002

I've got to get my thoughts together. Marie is so cool. I want to spend more time with her. We had so much fun together. We spent hours talking about everything. It's weird though. I am NOT queer, but she rocks in bed. I never thought I'd be one of those muff-diving lezzie weirdos. Eeeeeww! Crewcut and combat boots, Gross! No way! Is that next? Shit! what a horrible thought. I love my long hair and heels. I like my lipstick, my mascara, my bracelets, my artsy-fartsy fingernails... I love stillettos... I am NOT queer. I just found the perfect eyeliner! I look GOOD in a tiny little top and tineey little shorts. I know I do. Any normal woman likes to look attractive and I'm hot and I'm proud of it. Well... maybe I'm a little skinny. My breasts are too small. I wish they were as nice as hers. My ass is cute, or so I've been told. She has such a bod for an older woman! Whew! Looks like Pamela Anderson in "Barbwire" when she dresses up to play.

But she's just fun. She certainly isn't queer. She had such a wonderful husband, such a nice life. It's so sad. Maybe that's why she just wants to play now. She's so experienced. When she tells me how she and her Arthur played bondage games, it's awesome. They loved each other so much. And she's so elegant and refined. Grand. That's the word. Grand.

Interesting that she learned to like kink because of a deep love and a great marriage. I like kink despite that asshole Rodney. It was fun. He's a shithead. She played at being his slave. I'll bet she was hot, hot, hot. Men can be so weird with all their fetishes... well... maybe it's a good thing. Well... it is a good thing. She really loved him and she goes on and on about him. I guess he loved her. I guess he had a mental image of the sexiest woman in the world and she was proud to play-act and dress-up to become just that woman. I'm sure couples don't discuss this with their priests or ministers or whatever, but I can see a beautiful, deep love at work here. It's so sad that he died. Marie is such a wonderful person. She deserves some fun... maybe some love? in her life. Did I think that?

There is nothing wrong with being gay. I heard it all the time at school. Everyone hears it on TV and in the news. I just never paid attention before. This is scary. I'm NOT gay! I'm not homosexual... come to think of it... I'm not heterosexual either... I'm just plain SEXUAL! Yeah, that's it! I hope I'm not queer. That's so scary. I'm NOT queer!

Sex is NOT bad. It's fun to dress-up and play. Different games. Wild games. Totally un-real situations. It's like the bedroom is an amusement park. No reality needed here, or wanted. Bills and school and crappy jobs and broken-down car problems do not belong in the bedroom. This makes sense now. There's nothing wrong with a slightly sluttygirl and a widowed ex-sex-slaveplaying at whatever they want! I'm the proud owner of a vagina... hear me roar! Geeze... that was corny. Skip the cliche's. But I'm on to something here. This is why everyone should keep a diary.

I'm going to call Marie again. I've got to explain this. She'll understand. I know she will. When we were just stroking each other and kissing, it was not wrong. We both dressed in our fave slut-wear for each other, for OURSELVES. Yeah, I guess it's true. Women do dress for other women. Screw the men. They don't appreciate anything. Men are so infantile. A pushup bra and a low cut top and their minds stop working. Smile at them, grab their winky and lick the balls and they go rock hard instantly. Kiss the head a little, suck it into your mouth, lick around it like a loppypop and they can not think at all. Shit! now I'm thinking about cock. It is impressive when it grows big like that. Sort of makes my heart stop. Hard huge cock. Warm pulsing dick. Dripping with power. Power to go so deep inside me, it touches your soul. Feels like it bumps up against your throat so deep in me... I can't speak... not even squeek...only moan. Strong hands squeezing my ass. Hard muscle arms. Big wide shoulders. Flat muscle tummy pressed to my gut... squeezing my ass with those big rough hands. I like it when they grip my wrists and press me down on the bed and grind into me when they're on top... I think I'll take a little break here and go get a soda... be right back.

Women know women. No man can possibly do what she did for me and I'm sure I gave her good stuff too. No. We gave each other the warmth and love that only females can know. It's a long, slow, warm, glow with a real woman. An endless feeling, not a minute's sensation like with a man. I got her off and knew exactly how to give her the best while she was driving me up the wall the same way. I think no guy could do that. When I was with Marie, we both touched each other and massaged and stroked... I'm going to get some crackers and cheese to go with this coke. Be right back.

OK. Sex is powerful stuff. It's like a drug. I'm addicted. I know this. But gee whiz... I work, I pay bills, I was good in school, I'm a good girl, I get stuck in traffic, everyone sleeps a third of their life away! Life is tough for everyone. There's so little time to just be you. What's life for if you don't really really try to have just a few hours of pure fun when you can?

I'm all mixed up. I swear I've only had assholes for dates and lovers. Men are so crude and stupid. I don't want to think about it. The only "love" I ever got from them was so they could get me turned on to use me. To get in my pants or get me on my knees was everything. Makes you feel like a fastfood joint paper napkin... disposable... nothing. The girls I approached were only using me too, to drive the guys crazy that they wanted to meet. Dance with a girl at a club and you get ten guys drooling. Whisper your plan to the girl and I've never been turned down for a three-way. But the other girl's only in it for the cock. They guy's in it for the biggest dream every guy has. I guess my idea of being in control so I won't get hurt is stupid. I just realized this for the first time as I wrote that last sentence. I'm getting a little teary. I don't want to write any more now.

I'm back. I've got to work this out. Writing helps you think. #1 I miss my Dad who I only dimly remember when I was a toddler and through Mom. God I miss Mom, and I know that there are wonderful men out there. I just can't find one. #2 The only serious relation I had was with a muvafucker. That's over. Fuck him. Done. #3 Yes, I love kinky stuff and yes I'm horny as shit, of course, I'm 20, almost 21. I've got to do something. It's got to be real. It's got to make sense. #4 Marie is wonderful. She as horny and kinky as me. I'm going to focus on that. I will continue writing about yesterday.

When Alice said she knew only one person as strange as me, Alice was joking. But I was really curious and asked who. I'm so glad I did. Marie had belonged to theand still kept in touch. I got her email address and suggested that we meet. Told her as much as I dared about being lonely and proudly perverted. Took a big chance but mentioned Alice and. We exchanged emails and it was pretty encouraging. When we met it was so weird. Lunch atfor two lonely ex-sex slaves. Gawd I am glad I went. I don't care what the restaurant staff thought. I wore my pvc corset under my motorcycle jacket, short leather skirt, my dressiest ankle strap pumps, and fishnets of course. The crotch less pantyhose ones. No panties. I thought about wearing my little latex bikini bottom, but decided to be open... literally. I shaved extra carefully down there too. Yes! I did my slut to the max! My hair was a simple ponytail hanging down my back. I think it looks so cool that it brushes my tushie as I walk. I kept the makeup plain... well... I did use the deepest red lipstick I own and maybe the blue eyeshadow fading into white was a bit much... come to think of it... the makeup was slutty too. I had my nails done professionally earlier, neat glittery little silver stars on a hot red. I splurged. I chose my collection of silver chain bracelets. Nearly ALL of them. Huge honking things that probably each weigh a half a pound. Little girly ones. All mixed together on both wrists. I like these. I did the same with necklaces. Chokers piled on top of each other mainly. I think this looks so sexy, so major kinky.

I got there a little early, about 1:40. We were supposed to meet at 2. I ordered a diet sprite to wait. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. What if she doesn't come? I really look like a whore. What if some creep comes up? What do I want to happen? What am I doing here at all? What if this is some sort of joke. What if she's a butt ugly butch bitch? I like the cool air touching me when I open my legs a little. It's so naughty to be shaved and uncovered under my skirt. Gee, I hope this isn't a big mistake. I want to try to find... something.

Marie walked in. It had to be her. Shoulder legnth blond hair, nice hairdo, little flip at the ends, cute bangs. It accentuates her face nicely. I figured she must be 50, but stunning. All black leather... cool! Nice skirt... ooh... it's got a side slit. Gawd she has beautiful legs... like Tina Turner! Short booties that lace up. Sexxy heels must be four maybe five inches... nice. Medium dark hose looks conservative, but great on her. She must be asking where our reserved table is. She looks at me. She smiles. What a lovely smile. Big grin actually, like that actress that played in Erin Brockovich whatever her name is. She waves. Ooh... cute leather gloves too. Ha! the look on the greeters face! That girl must think this is a dominatrix convention. She's blushing! Ha! This is cool. She's going to wet her pants or shit herself or something. Gee, Marie walks so dignified in those heels. I can see why guys talk about the way a woman walks. Her hips sway with each step so nice, so smooth. Hypnotizing actually. She's wearing a pale pink satin blouse under a refined looking leather jacket. Ooh! She's got a leather waist cincher on too. Wow, is she hot.

"You must be Janet, I am Marie. So nice to meet you," she said. She removed a glove and offered a hand. Nice nails, not fancy, but I like long pretty nails. Nice color. You can tell when a woman likes herself by her nails. The dumpy, crabby girls in school and at work are always nail biters with plain nails. Oooh, she wore three shiny smooth silver bangles. They fell together and made that neat jingling sound I like. They're so shiny, like tubular mirrors. I took her hand and beamed up at her, "So nice of you to come Marie." She sat and a waitress appreared immediately. Ha! I'll bet they want to get rid of us quick! Too bad. I think this is going to be fun. Marie asked the waitress," I see that booth in the corner is empty. The one behind the pillar and plants. Can we move there? Can you bring a gin & tonic to that table for me?" The waitress looked relieved at the idea, "Yes Ma'am, no problem, I'll be right there with your drink and menus. Please go ahead to the booth if you like." Marie looked at me and I swear her eyes twinkled, "I think we should move to a more private setting. Will you accompany me?" I like this woman. "Sure. Whatever you say," is all I said. I smiled at her and she at me.

We talked for hours. This is why I'm pretty darned sure that we really are kindred spirits. It's crazy that two women would just start discussing men and love, marriage and horrible dates, high heels and corsets, sex games and role playing... but that's what we did. It was like we both had this powerful need that neither of us had even put into words before. This off-the-wall, spur-of-the-moment meeting was like sunshine pouring down after a gray cold winter. You hoped for it without knowing exactly what it was that you missed. She has the neatest smile. Big wide grin with pretty blue-gray eyes. She laughs a lot too. Oh. I had a salad. She had a club sandwich. She ordered more gin & tonics and offered to switch my sprite while the waitress was gone. That was nice. I got a little buzz. She said the nicest things. She said I looked just like that actress, Jennifer Garner, on "Alias." I think I blushed. I'm not that pretty. She laughed. Oh.. she's not 50, she's 42.