Rachel's Retrospect

I had been in bondage as a sex slave for over a year. In this time I had been trained to serve and endure incredibly dark sexual torture by my Master and Mistress. I knew what I was supposed to do, and how I was supposed to obey. My Owners dictated my entire existence; by now I had forgotten my previous life as a free young woman. They had taken my name away and given me a new one – jane. They had taken away my freedom, my self-confidence, and my self-will. Not only had I grown to accept this, I also had grown to embrace it. I have wondered whether I was always meant to be a sex slave – I have taken to it, accepted it, so completely. By this time, however, it doesn’t really matter. I am what I am.

Boston was extremely cold in the winter. I assumed I was still in Boston – my Master he drugged me when he abducted me so I have no idea still exactly where I am being kept.

The dungeon where I live is not heated well, so it is very cold. I am rarely allowed to wear clothing – a slave should always be nude in order to allow her Master or Mistress instant and complete access to their slave’s body.

I shivered a bit in the cold as I lay on the cot in my cell located in the far south corner of the basement dungeon. I had learned how to fall asleep while being chained by my collar to the wall by a ten-foot chain. Usually I was so exhausted after being Used by my Master and Mistress, sleep came instantly.

That evening during my session, Master and Mistress seemed quite angry. They used me to vent that anger. I was bound by rope, my wrists together, to a beam in the ceiling. A spreader bar was put between my ankles and I was cuffed to it. Master then hoisted me up by the rope until I was a foot off the floor. The pain in my wrists and arms was extreme. I had a ballgag in my mouth so I could only muffle my distress.

Mistress took a 5-foot long riding crop to my back and fiercely whipped me for what seemed like an hour. I could feel the open welts on my back trickling blood. My whole body jolted every time the whip hit me, and it caused my body to swing suspended in the air. This put more pressure on my wrists and caused me to whimper in even more pain. I wanted to scream but I absolutely knew not to allow myself to. It was one of the very first lessons I had learned from Master and Mistress when I became their sex slave.

While Mistress whipped me, Master took a pair of small metal weights and attached them to the gold rings pierced through my nipples. Master and Mistress had recently ceremoniously had my body pierced as a mark of their Ownership of me. It also allowed them to Use me in even more elaborate, painful ways to satisfy their dark sexual desires.

The pull of the weights on my nipples was excruciating; although I had long gotten used to this particular pain. Master added three more sets of weights, until my nipples and breasts were pinched and stretched farther than I thought possible. Tears were stinging my eyes at the unbelievable pain. I was whimpering constantly, biting into the ballgag to try to silence my need to scream.

Master then took more weights and attached them to the gold rings pierced through each of my vaginal folds. The pain was so overwhelming I almost passed out.

When Master took a small clamp attached to weighted chain and attached it to my clitoris, I began to wail and openly cry.

“Shut your stupid mouth, girl,” Mistress almost yelled at me in her harsh, smoky voice; “Be quiet and take your punishment.”

Her command instantly silenced me. Even as she now took the crop to my stomach and tortured breasts, I only quietly whimpered.

At some point I must have passed out, because when I awoke, I was alone. I was still hanging from the rope, my body almost numb in aching pain. I could look down and see the bleeding lashes covering my stomach and breasts. The weights had been removed from my gold rings, but I could somehow still feel the pull of them.

I must have hung there for another hour or so, my mind blank with exhaustion and pain. When I heard the key in the door lock of the dungeon, I audibly sighed with relief.

Master did not speak as he lowered me to the ground and I crumbled to my knees. I fell to the floor in exhaustion and simply could not move. Master moved around me to untie my wrists – which were now raw and bleeding – and removed the spreader bar cuffs from my ankles.

“Get up, girl,” he ordered me. I immediately tried to rise to my knees to stand, but I was so weak and in pain I collapsed again to the floor.

I heard Master grunt in displeasure as he grabbed my long blond hair in his hand and began dragging me toward the shower. By this time I was so numb I barely felt the pain in my head from being dragged by my hair. I was panting heavily and whimpering as he pulled me into the shower stall – a small, three-walled structure in which Mistress bathed me twice a day. As I sat crumpled in the corner of the stall, Master turned the water on very cold and stood there as he watched the rinse water spraying my body turn red with my blood.

Mistress arrived and once I was clean, helped me stand and took me to the large bed near the center of the basement. It was an old, large four-poster bed Master and Mistress had obtained for Using me.

I sat weak and compliant on the side of the bed as Mistress once again attached my leather wrist and ankle cuffs to me. As their slave I wore them all the time, as I did the black leather choker collar around my neck. For a sex slave, these items are like jewelry. I had come to wear them almost proudly in a strange way.

Mistress then ordered me to lie on the bed on my stomach, which I slowly did – each movement sending searing pain throughout my body. Mistress then took the four foot chains attached securely to each post on the bed and attached the clamps on the ends of them to the metal rings in each of my wrist and ankle cuffs. I was thankful she did not make me lie on by scarred, injured back and buttocks. I was truly amazed when Mistress began to gently apply cortisone ointment to the wounds she had just hours ago assaulted on me.

“jane,” Mistress began speaking quietly, using the slave name she and Master had given me long ago; “Master and me…well…we gotta split town for a while. And we ain’t gonna be able to take you with us.”

Hearing this stunning news I forgot my pain and turned my head to look at her, forgetting the rule of never looking at Master or Mistress directly unless given permission to.

“So we are gonna rent you to a Dom we know,” she told me; “Just for a little while until we can find a new place and send for you.”

The shock of hearing this was overwhelming. For over a year I had existed in this damp dungeon basement and my life had been completely controlled by my Master and Mistress. Now she was suddenly telling me she and Master were leaving, and I was going to be in the possession of someone I did not know. I began to cry.

“Quiet, girl,” Mistress said, but it was muttered softly and almost compassionately. She continued to attend to my wounds.

“We don’t like it either,” she said, glancing up at Master, who sat on the other side of the bed and had been silently watching.

“But we got no choice. This Dom you are going to is a friend of Master’s and me. Just do whatever he tells you to do and obey him like you do us.”

I weakly nodded to her that I understood, but I was still quietly crying and my mind was full of fear. What came next for me as a sex slave was a whole new world of dark obsessions and sexual desires I could never have imagined.

For three days Master and Mistress only came to the dungeon to feed me and bathe me. Although they did not Use me, I was either kept in my cell on a leash or tied to the Mistress’ large four-poster bed. For hours I was alone, and I wondered what was in store for me. By this time I had completely bonded to Master and Mistress, and their treatment of me. I did not know now if I could live without them. As I looked up into the large mirror over the bed at my nude, pierced body, I saw the beautiful possession of my Owners. This was THEIR body, for THEIR use – not someone else. I did not want another Dom or Master using my body for their pleasure; it was not their place. Or so I thought. But I was being “rented”. Someone had paid Master and Mistress money for the temporary possession and Use of my body. By the way Master and Mistress had spoken about it to me, I could tell they did not like the idea either.

During those three days I heard great activity upstairs in the main part of the house. People coming and going, furniture being moved, pots and pans clanging together. I actually missed being Used by Master and Mistress during that time – after a year of daily punishment and Use I had grown to not only accept it, but in a very dark, strange way, enjoy it. It satisfied me in some subconscious way to submit to their torture, and contented me to know that it pleased them to Use me in such insidious ways.

I was asleep bound to the bed when Master and Mistress came for me. They uncuffed me from the bed, chained my hands in front of me and shackled my fee together. Mistress dressed me in a black leather halter bondage top and black zippered mini-skirt. She then made me step into a pair of 6-inch black patent leather high heel shoes. I had not been this dressed in over a year, and it felt strange to wear concealing clothing again.

As she attached the leash to my collar, she spoke to me –

“You will always wear this collar, no matter who has possession of you, jane. You are still our slave. Don’t forget that.”

I was put in a large metal cage, 5 feet long and 5 feet high. My wristcuffs were handcuffed together around one of the top bars on the cage, and my shackled feet were cuffed to one of the sidebars. I had to sit with my head bowed and my knees slightly pulled to my chest. It was somewhat uncomfortable. The cotton gag tied around my mouth told me that I must remain silent. A blindfold was placed over my eyes and tied tightly behind my head, just after the cage had been encased in a fitted flannel cover. At this point I could feel the cage being lifted and carried through the house and then outside. I had not been in the out-of-doors in over a year, and the smell of the fresh air and grass was intoxicating.

I do not know how long I was in the cage, how far I had traveled or where I had been taken. I could tell I was in some sort of vehicle, but had no concept of time. My arms were beginning to ache from the awkward position they were in, and my legs were numb and falling asleep.

The rest of me must have fallen asleep to, because I was aroused by the feel of the cage being lifted and carried again. The crate tilted slightly as if ascending stairs, and I sensed at that moment that I had arrived to my new “home”.

I heard muffled voices, Mistress’s boot heels clicking against the floor, and a heavy door close and lock.

I felt the sudden breeze of fresh air as the cage cover was removed, but I still could not see where I was. Nothing happened for a long time, and I sat there silently, breathing heavily in fearful anticipation.

Finally, I heard the creak of the cage door open. Above me, my cuffed hands were released and recuffed together inside the cage in front of me. It felt wonderful to move my arms again. My ankle shackles were removed from the cagebar and rechained together. A large, strong arm then reached around my waist and pulled me out of the cage.

I lay silently on the floor, curled up in a ball.

“Well, I finally have Jack and Linda’s little slut slave for my own,” a male voice said in dark amusement. I felt his foot rest on my side and jiggle me a little.

I felt the blindfold being removed from my eyes. I blinked a little in the bright light.

“You’re rather pretty,” the man said; “I will have a lot of fun with you.”

I was taken to a bedroom and placed on the bed. My wrist cuffs were attached to the headpost and my shackled ankles secured to the footboard. I laid there quietly with my eyes closed, trying to stay calm and prepare myself for whatever was to happen to me.

When I heard the door of the room open and close, I found the courage to open my eyes.

The man looked to be in his forties, his head shaved clean. He had a large, bushy grey moustache and several gold rings pierced through each ear. His eyes were brown, and his voice was always laced with powerful disdain. He instantly frightened me.

“You will call me “Sir””, he told me as he stood over me. “You will do whatever I tell you to do, and you will submit to whatever is done to you. And you will always thank me when it is done. Do you understand?”

I simply nodded my head, my eyes cast down away from his stare.

“You will speak only when spoken to; I will not tolerate questions or comments.”

I nodded my understanding.

“You will eat once a day, and you will be permitted to shower twice a day. I like my slaves clean, “ he added with a wry smile.

“You will keep your pussy shaved, and you will not be allowed to cum until I give you permission. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Very well then,” he said, and began to uncuff me from the bed. He freed my wrists and ankles from the shackles, but my cuffs remained on. He attached a long leather leash to my collar and told me to get on my hands and knees.

He pulled me along as I moved across the floor on all fours, tugging at my collar forcefully as we went. In the kitchen he led me over to a bowl on the floor.

“This is where you will eat, slave,” he told me. I was shocked, but kept my head down and remained silent.

He tied the end of the leash to the handle of one of the cabinet drawers and untied the ballgag from the back of my head. I then heard the grinding of a can opener. Into the bowl on the floor he spooned out several large mounds of something that barely resembled food. It did not take but a minute to recognize the smell of it. It was dog food.

He pushed my head into the bowl and tugged on the leash at the same time. I wanted to cry but was too afraid. I had no choice about what I had to do. I meekly licked the food to discern its taste. It was horrible and I gagged a little.

“Eat it, bitch,” he ordered; “It’s all the food you are gonna get today.”

I was extraordinarily queasy after eating the food; I barely managed to keep from vomiting. I felt completely broken by his treatment of me so far. I felt immense dread at the coming days with him, and even prayed to God that my Master and Mistress would soon send for me. I had no idea if they knew the Dom they had rented me to would treat me this way. Actually, it really didn’t matter. I was a slave to be Used however seen fit by whoever possessed me.

The Dom blindfolded me again. My wrist and ankles cuffs once again chained together, he pulled me by the leash attached to my collar through a door and down some concrete stairs. I stumbled a bit as he led me, but I could smell and feel a cool winter breeze against my skin.

We walked a good distance – I don’t know how far – until I knew I was once again indoors. He stopped and I stood still where I was. The blindfold was removed from my eyes and I found I was in an old wooden barn.

The old structure had been somewhat converted into a living space. Different areas had been sectioned off with large sheets or blankets strung over wire that had been run along the open, lower level of the structure. The hayloft was still present, but I could see nothing of what might be up there.

The floor was made of ancient wood that had no doubt been there since the barn was built. A few old, tattered rugs covered several large gaps in the floor. A large, king-size mattress and boxspring were set on the floor in the middle of one visible “room”. A few sheets – too small to cover it alone – were spread over the top of the bed. Around the floor of the mattress I could see the metal eyehooks drilled into the base wood, and felt a shiver run down my spine.

In the middle of the barn, in what I took to be the “main room”, surrounded by sheet walls, was a sofa, a few chairs, and a very large wood table. I discovered a bit later than behind another set of sheets was a makeshift kitchen, with an old gas stove and ancient noisy refrigerator.

The Dom had somehow also managed to pipe in water to the barn, and in another section he had erected a small wooden stall in which to shower and a working toilet. All of this told me that this was where I was to live until I was returned to my Master and Mistress.

The Dom pulled me by the leash and told me to lie on the bed. He attached chains secured to the hooks in the floor to bind me spread eagle on the bed. He then sat down next to me.

“It is time to see all that I have paid for,” he said with a sensual smile, and began to remove my clothes. I laid still and tried to be calm, but I know my heavy breathing of fear gave away my true feelings. However, it seemed to please him to frighten me.

As I lay nude before him, he freely ran his hands all over my body, moaning with pleasure as he did. His rough fingers played and teased the rings on my nipples; he pulled at them until he could make me gasp with pain. Then he would laugh and smack them with the palm of his hand. It made me wince with discomfort but I tried to stay silent. All I really wanted at that point was to be left alone with my disturbed stomach until the queasiness went away.

Surprisingly, he soon did just that. He silently got up and walked out of the barn, locking it up behind him. I lay there in the dim light of the cool, creaky barn. There was no mirror above me; I strangely missed that.

The only way I knew the passing of time was by the small gap of light between two of the barn’s upper roof shingles fading from white to grey, purple to black. I also could feel the air in the drafty barn growing cooler; I shivered in the cold darkness.

Sleep was invading my senses when I heard the doorlocks turn and the door creak open. Heavy footsteps were approaching me, so I shook my head to rouse myself from sleep.

The Dom moved around the bed and turned on the small lamps on each side. Suddenly I could see the barn, the lamps giving the place a deep warm glow.

He then sat down on the side of the bed and explored my body with his eyes. He smiled.

“How do you like the place?” he asked me with a self-humoured grin.

Since he had not gagged me I had the rare occasion to freely speak.

“It is very nice, Sir,” I quietly responded.

He laughed – “Yeah, right. Well, it’s remote and no one will bother us here. So, that means no one will hear you when I make you scream.”

Saying that, he pinched my left nipple between his fingers and pulled it upward. My breathing became harder and I bit my lip to keep from making a sound.

He smiled at me and then let go, turning to the small table next to the bed. From within the drawer he took out a small leather case. He unzipped it and folded it open on the table. I did not dare turn my head to watch him, but when he turned back to me with a syringe in one hand and a rubber medical tourniquet in the other, I instantly began to squirm in fear. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to beg him to not do what he was going to do.

The Dom was now glancing over my arm.

“Clean, eh,” he spoke more to himself. “I’m surprised Linda didn’t hook you; she deals in drugs, you know. Uses ‘em too. A lot.”

The Dom smiled.

“She musta been saving you for a Class A sale; keep you clean, get more ‘green’.”

He laughed at his own joke; it quickly faded into a sigh.

“Oh well, guess I’ll be the one to get your started.”

He began to tie the tourniquet around my upper arm.

“Please Sir, don’t do this to me,” I begged. It has slipped out in my overwhelming fear.

The Dom paused a moment and looked me straight in the eyes.