Vanished Ch. 09

Hi my name is Suzie, and this is the story of my new life. I was striped of my former last name, now I am known just as Suzie, my Master’s slave. I actually prefer being called slave to slut, as he does when others are around or in the heat of the moment. I have a reasonably good life but it is so very different from the life that I had before…. before that fateful day twenty-one months ago.

I cannot complain I am well looked after and I know Master loves me in his special way. Strangely I love Master intensely now. Initially I was terrified of him and hated him. I would have scratched his eyes out if he had not restrained me. I especially hated when he worked his magic on me, awakening my body, then I not only loathed him but myself also.

My only role now is to look after Master’s personal needs giving him pleasure as he sees fit at any given moment and with whomever he wishes me to service. I am never sure what might be expected of me from one day to the next. Master does not consult me on the use of my body, yet I trust him. My body has led the way to my loving Master Geoff. I have absolute faith in my Master to keep me safe and though he challenges my thresholds I would go to the ends of the earth to please him.

It still seems very strange when I clinically look at our relationship. But when I am with him I know I am more alive now than I was as a wife and a mother running my small business. I guess I am technically still a wife, but somehow now I think of Geoff as my only husband. I must not call him Geoff to his face or I will suffer his punishment, but that is how I think of him. I cannot say the pain of loosing my children is gone, but Geoff makes me so happy.

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It had not started out like this. It had started with me being terrified of him; I am talking absolute abject terror. If it had not been for my strong self-esteem and sense of who I am Master would have succeed in breaking my spirit forcing me to give up, but I am not sure if he ever wanted me to break. Instead I fought him, I may have bent but break I did not. I remained me, my sense of humor and intelligent intact, but I have to admit there is a new part to me, an essence that he brought kicking and screaming to my surface that I never knew was there before.

I had come to this setting against my will, awoke to a living hell of embarrassment and humiliation. I awoke to the discovery that freedom was redefined. I awoke to a world where at first I was the only woman in a group of sexual deviants who to my way of thinking took great delight in causing me pain and distress. How I ever survived being bathed, fondled and explored by this abuser, I will never know.

As a straight married woman who was so busy with my young family and escalating career, I knew nothing of the world of alternative lifestyles. I knew nothing of men dominating women generating intense sexual pleasure for both and a release for the women that unless you have experienced it is beyond words or at least beyond my words. Now I know that wonderful bond.

I survived my collaring and my nipple piercing humiliated and in pain, but what came next blew my mind. I even could accept my rape by him and somehow my base-being even enjoyed it, immensely enjoyed it, though at the time he could have pulled out my tongue and I would have denied my pleasure.

The most strange and foreign aspect of the collaring which I likened to a marriage was when I walked out of the bathroom ushered by him. There lounging in the family room was the three strangers who had done the physical mutilation to my nipples. When I close my eyes, I can still see those three nude men, their shaved balls and flaccid cocks daggling against between their legs. They were gentleman, they as one stood when I walked out hand in hand with him. I could not believe nor take my eyes off their cocks as each became engorged the further I walked towards the raised bed. I twisted my neck attempting to see why they were stark naked were there other women in the room. I strained my hearing listening for the sound of any feminine voices. There were none.

I looked up at this man who insisted I call him Master with a perplexed look querying his friends state of undress afraid to give voice to the horrible thoughts that were running through my mind. A sense of doom playing up and down my spine, the fear of the unknown almost palpable. My fingers tightened around his large hand in a plea for protection.

I felt them hovering in the background closer than they were a moment ago, too close.

To Be Continued...