--A page from Syndra's Memoirs
There was this one summer, a long time ago, when I remember being truly and completely sexually fulfilled. I will always remember my summer as Miss Content.
Rod, my boss at that time, was a really sweet man, kind of a dork, but sweet nonetheless. When I came to work one day with bruises all over my neck, arms and legs, he pulled me aside. "If your husband is hurting you, Syndra, I can help you. We need to report him."
"No, Rod. Really, it's not like that. You're sweet to worry. Please don't."
I had left my husband two months previously. The marriage was going nowhere fast, and the bastard truly had abused me. But I couldn't tell all this to Rod, because I was fucking his wife. It was more than that, though. She was my Mistress and I loved her desperately.
I thought Karin was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She reminded me of Barbie, tall and thin with large breasts and white blonde hair worn in one of those crimped perms that were so popular back in the 80's. In truth, her lips were too thin and her nipples too pale, but you couldn't have convinced me of it at the time.
I was sort of shy, if you can believe that, and I'll never forget the first time she invited me to her home. I was flattered that she noticed me, just a plain looking waitress working in the restaurant her husband managed. I was really very pretty with luscious curves, but you couldn't have convinced me of that either. I was 19 and naive to a fault. She said she was having some friends over and, would I come? Hell yes!
Much to my embarrassment I was the first to arrive. She had music on, offered me some wine, sat and talked with me about a recent trip she had made to Europe and then the Caribbean. I had never felt comfortable talking to anyone like her, but she made me feel like I had something to offer to the conversation. She made me feel smart. After we got really stoned, she started telling me how pretty I was. I blushed furiously because I knew that wasn't true, but she insisted.
She stood me in front of the bathroom mirror and pulled my hair away from my face. Then she lined my eyes and colored my lips and cheekbones. I was astounded at the difference a little makeup made. I never wore any because, well, I just never paid attention to that sort of thing. Before I knew what was happening she had me trying on sexy, lacy things to convince me how stunning I was. And, of course, everyone but naive little me, knows what comes next. One minute she was telling me how beautiful I was, and I am eating it up. Next minute she has her hands all over my tits.
She reached around to adjust the lace or something and slipped her hand inside the bra. I gasped, but didn't pull away. I think I was so shocked I just froze. Besides, I was more than just a little curious and she was so damn pretty! Now up to this point, my sexual experience included only men, so the feel of those thin, soft fingers cupping my breast was exquisite. Her lips explored my neck and her breath seared my flesh. I couldn't move, or I wouldn't. I just let it happen, let her take me, lead me to her room, lay me on the bed and teach me a few things.
When she lay back and told me to eat her, I followed directions. I let her lead my mouth and fingers where she needed them. As I became intoxicated with her flavor, it was like waking for the first time. Suddenly my instincts kicked in and she no longer needed to lead me. I devoured her with a primal hunger. When I was done, she lay trembling in my arms with tears on her cheeks.
Two days later, I found my husband in bed with another woman. Karin agreed to pay for an apartment in exchange for sexual servitude, just until I got on my feet. I was only too happy to agree.
We had the most wild sexual adventures and I trusted her implicitly. My welfare was her priority. She never disturbed my work schedule because she thought it important for me to gain financial freedom. But often when I arrived home she was waiting to play with me. I was her slave and happily so. I wanted nothing more in this life than to please her. I offered to quit my job to serve her full time, but she told me repeatedly how important it was for a woman to own her independence. Ironic that she drove this point home with her whip.
Sometimes she brought friends over and they watched her torment me with whips and clamps. Then she had me service everyone in the room. I loved that! Sometimes she would pleasure me, or make me masturbate as the others looked on. A few times she even refused me the release I so desperately craved.
Once she came to me in the middle of the night crying. She told me she had been very bad and deeply regretted her sin. She turned herself over my knee and ordered me to spank her until she was absolved. I was so uncomfortable hitting her that she had to threaten me with abandonment before I did it properly. When her ass and my hand were both swollen, I could see that it really was making her feel better. I spanked all the harder until she screamed to God to forgive her. I never did find out what she had done that upset her so.
I remember well the day she asked me if I wanted my freedom. She said she would happily continue paying my rent for the rest of the year, but that if I wanted my freedom, I only needed to ask. I fell to my knees kissing her feet. "Mistress please do not release me! I live to serve you. People seldom find happiness. I consider myself lucky to be in this position. I'll be content the rest of my days to remain in your service! Please don't release me."
She lifted me to my feet. "Very well, Miss Content. I was just asking." From then on she called me Miss Content. It seemed to amuse her a great deal.
One afternoon she called to tell me she was taking me out. I was to be dressed in a leather halter and mini skirt; nothing else. "Be waiting at nine." It was not a request. I was delighted and a little nervous. We often had friends in, but we had never gone out. I didn't know what to expect. I dressed as instructed and was waiting on my knees by the door when she arrived. She petted my hair.