The Challenges of Marrying a Sex Slave
Chapter 1: The Masters
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Slavery, Heterosexual, Fiction, Tear Jerker, MaleDom,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Masters - My neighbor gave me his young, adult daughter.
Excerpt from Forward to The Challenges of Marrying a Sex Slave by John Somers
Many ask me if I am naturally an expert on Master-husband relationships. The truth is that I am not naturally a dominant personality. I was raised in a normal family, and exhibited a normal level of assertiveness. The army taught me leadership, which it defines as “the process of influencing people, by providing purpose, direction, and motivation while operating to accomplish the mission and improve the organization.” What my non-commissioned officers (NCO’s) taught me was that leadership is about serving your unit and subordinates by providing the guidance and planning while ensuring that one’s subordinates are taken care of. They typically focus on taking care of the subordinates’ part while my superiors focused on accomplishing the mission. Both are correct and equally necessary.
One visible aspect, in which officers show their care for their soldiers, is that they always eat last. While the Privates are filling their mouths and the Sergeants are in line to get their food, the officers are drinking coffee and talking amongst themselves while observing that all their men are fed. Once the line is empty and their NCO’s assure them that all their men have eaten, the officers allow themselves to be fed. The point is that if the food runs out, the officers are the first ones to miss a meal, but they accept that as a risk in ensuring that their subordinates are fed. A Master-husband will also put the needs of his submissive-wife ahead of his own needs. Even if his need is to have a “normal” marriage while his wife needs a Master-husband. At least that is my story.
A Father Gives His Daughter Away
I have lived in Round Rock, Texas for just over a year after resigning my army officer commission after serving my country for six years. A high-tech manufacturing company hired me as a project manager and my army leadership training and experience served me well. On a Friday night in March, I was enjoying a beer while reading a book on the battle at Gettysburg. I am sure to many that sounds like I was not socially active, and that was in fact, true. I occasionally had an after-work drink with co-workers, but on the weekend I kept to myself except for short conversations with my neighbors.
After I heard the doorbell I went to the door and saw through the peep-hole my neighbor Robert Masters with his daughter Amy. I was a little surprised, because all of our previous conversations had been in one of our front lawns, but I liked Robert and the two times I had met his daughter and son-in-law, I considered them to be nice people.
“Hello, Robert, Amy; come in and have a seat. Would you like a drink?”
“Thank you John, we will have water, please.”
When I returned with their waters I noticed that Robert seems nervous and Amy was looking down at the floor.
“Is everything ok with your two?”
“I have a problem and am looking for a solution. I am hoping you might be willing to help, but first I would like to ask you if you are in a romantic relationship that I don’t know about.”
“No. I have been focused on my job and have not made the effort to meet anyone.”
“Please let me explain some family background without interruption.”
I nodded my agreement and he explained his unusual problem. I was surprised when he told me that his family produced women who were naturally submissive and the men were dominant role-models for their sons. They did not know when this unusual dynamic began but it was many generations ago. Thus, fathers would assume a Master-father relationship with their daughters. It sound worse than it is. Like any other father, they loved their daughters and showered them with affection. But they also ordered their daughters and controlled their lives. The daughters almost always considered this to be normal (the few daughters without submissive tendencies were treated as normally as the family knew how). The fathers also taught their daughters that they were only to submit to them in that way until they found a good husband who would assume their responsibility. Once the daughters approached the appropriate age to marry, their fathers found appropriate dominant husbands who would meet the emotional needs of their daughters and arranged the marriage.
When Robert was a teenager, he witnessed his sister’s marriage and it changed his attitude. Her husband was much more controlling than his dad. And he enjoyed humiliating his sister. He would expose her to his friends and eventually shared her sexually with some of his friends. When Robert went to his father, he too regretted that his son-in-law treated his daughter that way, but there was nothing he could do. She was now married and her husband was her master. After several more years, Robert lost his temper, beat the snot out of his brother-in-law, and “taught” him how he would treat his sister from then on. Fortunately, the confrontation changed the marriage for the better and both his sister and her Master-husband seemed to find a more loving and mutually fulfilling relationship.
Robert was determined that his daughter would not be in this situation. So, in addition to finding an appropriate husband (named Jeff Richardson), he also included a different kind of pre-nuptial agreement. This agreement included a section of behavior that would revert “ownership” of Amy back to her father. It also mandated Robert visiting with the couple weekly so that he could monitor their relationship. The marriage seemed to be working well for eighteen months. Last Sunday, her husband seemed nervous. After an interrogation, Jeff admitted to showing off by stripping Amy in front of his best friend and ordering her to have sex with him. Amy naturally obeyed, happy to please her husband.
Robert went to his car and retrieved his copy of the pre-nup and informed his daughter that he was her master once again by the terms of the agreement. He brought her home with him and had initiated a divorce. Jeff apologized and agreed to not fight it.
“Amy, I am so sorry that he mistreated you.”
Amy looked up at me in surprise, but Robert was the one to reply, “Oh, she does not think that she was mistreated. The Masters family girls are happy to please their husbands. It takes much more abuse to hurt them, and even then, they will never object. It is not in their nature. That is why the pre-nup allows me to take control. I refused to abandon her completely to the whims of any man. So far, Jeff has humiliated me and my family. And, based on his actions, I think he will abuse her if my influence is ever removed. I won’t allow that. But, something else troubles me even more. Amy, tell Mr. Somers if you loved Jeff.”
Amy looked confused before saying, “I don’t know. I always obeyed him but I never really thought about it being love.”
“See, John. Jeff wanted a sex-slave to rule. He did not and does not want a wife to love and cherish. That is just not good enough. I have thought about it this week. I think what she needs is not a master who can learn to love. She needs a husband who can learn to take over. And, I think that man could be you. You do find her attractive, don’t you?”
“Whoa! Sure, she is attractive. And I think she is a very nice girl. But, I am no master. I don’t want a slave. I am not even actively looking for a wife.”
“But John, I think you will learn to love her and teach her to love you. That is what she needs the most. The other thing is not that difficult. All you need to do is learn what her emotional and psychological needs are and give it to her. You are a giving person. You will naturally want to give her the guidance she craves.”
“Robert, I have no experience in BDSM, and frankly I don’t want one. I don’t want a wife that just obeys me. I want a wife who loves and respects me. And I sure don’t want to have to order my wife to have sex with me against her will. That would be ... just disgusting!”
“I am her master right now. Well, I am her father and I am the man that she obeys. Do you think I am having sex with my own daughter? Or do you think that I don’t love her or that she does not love me?”
“Forget whatever sex stories or porn you may have watched. This has nothing to do with that. This is about love and meeting the needs of your loved one. Of course she will have sex with her husband. That is a given. And her nature is to want to please her husband. There is nothing wrong with that. I expect you understand that a marriage relationship is about wanting to please each other, wanting your partner to develop in the best way that they can and wanting to meet the emotional needs of each other, even if it might not match your own.”
“Right, but there are limits to what I am willing to do; I have no desire to “rule” my spouse. I absolutely will not cause her physical pain, or emotional suffering for that matter. I don’t want to be harsh or demanding to the woman I marry. I want to love, protect and cherish my future wife.”
“And that is exactly what Amy needs, John. She does not respond well to corporal punishment or harsh words. Not from me. It crushes her spirit. And she very rarely needs correction of any sort. She wants to please. That is both her blessing and her curse. She is blessed to be such a wonderful young woman. She has never rebelled. Even as a child, if she disobeyed her parents, it was because she forgot. The only correction she needed was to be reminded and to point out that she disappointed me by not being obedient. That mild admonishment would have her crying in my arms for fifteen minutes and for the rest of the week, she held onto me as much as she could. The only problem is that she is vulnerable to men without the self-discipline to always put her ahead of their own temptation to take advantage of her.”
“But you said that she had emotional needs that require a master.”
“Again, forget that term. What I have said so far, is that she needs someone to be gentle with her desire to please the main man in her life. The other thing she needs is someone to tell her the plan and to give her specific instructions if she does not understand her role in that plan. For example, if you want the two of you to work in the yard all week, tell her that as the plan, and give her what that entails and if she is not sure what to do, tell her to do a specific task. Once she completes that task, if she seems unsure what to do, tell her to do another task. She is a smart girl. She will pick up what you want and will then take the initiative of choosing which tasks are hers. Is that so different from what you do when you lead groups?”
“No. That sounds like normal leadership, really.”
“Now I am asking. She needs more than her father at her age. She needs physical affection that I don’t feel comfortable doing myself. I would like for you to spend the weekend with her. Let her do what she wants. Expect her to prepare meals and to generally try to anticipate her needs. When she does something good, merely thank her. I have noticed that you thank people routinely just to be mannerly, and that will suffice. If you think about it, be a little more expressive as you thank her and see how she responds. She will wag her tail more than a hound dog when you pat its head. I think you will find her endearing.”
“I will give it a try. But, I don’t plan to have sex with her. That would feel like I was exploiting her.”
“That is fine, whether you do or not. What she needs is for you to hold her and give her little signs of affection. I can do those things, but she also needs her man to hold her all night as she sleeps. I can’t do that. If, at some time, you develop fond feelings for her and she gets you worked up, I don’t mind if you guys give in to passion. I have no concern that you will take advantage of her. You okay with that?”
I reluctantly agreed. After asking for permission, Amy fixed a simple dinner and I ate at my dining room table for the first time in months. I didn’t really want to know any more details of her marriage so our conversation was somewhat superficial. After she cleaned up the dishes, I noticed that she was standing in the doorway watching me, so I gesture for her to join me on the couch and pulled her next to me while I watched television. She snuggled up next to me and kept me company.
When it was near time for bed, I instructed her to go pack for the weekend to be sure that she had modest sleepwear. After we both showered, she joined me in bed in an oversized t-shirt. At first we both laid there awkwardly. Then I rolled over; told her “thank you for keeping me company tonight. I really appreciate it”; and I kissed her lightly on her lips. The expression changed immediately to one of great joy and she rolled near me to rest her head on my shoulder while I put my arm around her. I woke up the next morning in the lovers’ position. I was spooned behind her, my erection in her crack and one hand holding a full breast.
Being a Saturday I began doing yard work. As I started to prepare the lawnmower, she asked if she could use the trimmer so that we could finish earlier. After ensuring that she had used a similar tool before I agreed. After I mowed, she helped me clean the sidewalk. We went inside and I went to take a quick shower to wash away the dust and after a few minutes she shocked me by climbing in with me. But she did not really respond to my surprise and simply washed me and herself.
I knew she was beautiful, and from what I could tell from her previous clothed condition, she seemed to have a nice figure. Seeing her nude just confirmed that. Even in the shower with wet, black hair and no make-up, she enchanted me. In addition to an attractive face, she had deep green eyes that I appreciated.
“You really are a beautiful woman.”
Her cheeks reddened.
“Thank you for helping me with the yard work. You did a very good job and made my morning much easier.”
She looked at me with joy and pride. So I kissed her. I was planning a short, closed mouth kiss, but she pulled me close with her arms and rubbed against me. I think we kissed and rubbed for a good ten minutes before I pulled away with my last shred of self-discipline.
“That is what Daddy meant when he said that he is not comfortable with giving me the affection that I need. I rubbed against him a couple of times. It made him run to the bathroom. I think he masturbated.”
“Amy, if you do that again, I can’t be held accountable for what I do.”
“It’s okay, John. I know that you have errands to run, so I will keep myself under control during the day.”
The rest of the day she followed me around like a lost puppy. If I complimented her, she gave me a nice kiss and a smile. When we went to the store, she held onto my arm. When we ate, she sat next to me so that her thigh was melded to mine. By the time that we went to bed, I did not know how I ever lived without her. And my sexual self-control was reaching its limit. And then she came to bed in sexy, transparent lingerie, the last of my self-control evaporated.
I really did not give this my best. I mean, I am no sexpert (sex expert) but I pay attention to my lovers and generally they all seemed to enjoy our time together. But this night, my mind snapped and I reverted to being a super horny teenager. My mouth and hands went all over her with only instinct to guide them. I did maintain enough control to be sure that she was wet (and boy was she wet!) before I entered her so that she did not experience any pain, but otherwise I just claimed her body. And she fully participated and her noises sounded like she fully enjoyed it too, but she let me take the lead. We did not do anything kinky at all. I certainly did not restrain or hurt her (not even light, loving spanks). But I pretty much fucked her, slept, and then fucked her again all night long. I think we only used three positions: doggy, missionary, and cowgirl. But the whole night was somewhat dream like. What I am sure of is that whenever I could, I was in her. When I could not get an erection, I fondled and kissed her until I fell asleep.
The next day was like the beginning of a honeymoon. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. And I did not want her to leave. I called her father and asked him if she could stay. He came over and told her that until he said otherwise, I was to be the man who she was to obey and that I would take care of her. I suppose that is when he gave me his daughter as my slave, but it did not feel quite like that to me.
Learning to Love
I expected the next Monday to be difficult for both of us. I was wise enough to get up early so that I had time to hold a clutching, weeping Amy as I said good-bye. I did call her on my breaks. When I arrived home she was all smiles, hugs, and kisses. My house was spotless and the meal was fantastic. This became the pattern during the week. On the weekend I discovered that I enjoyed leaving the house if I had a companion. Every time I suggested an outing, she was happy to go with me. When she learned that I enjoyed motorcycles, she asked if I would take her for rides. When she learned that I enjoyed shooting, she asked me to take her to the firing range and asked me to teach her to shoot. She even asked if I would sit with her if she signed up for her handgun license, and I agreed.
I asked her what her interests were and she avoided the question for a time. Finally, I asked her what she did with all her time when I was at work; she had to have interests or hobbies. That is when she admitted to being interested in what I considered typical home-maker activities. She studies cooking and baking. She reads articles about laundry and house-keeping. Surprisingly she reads about having babies and raising children, even though she never mentioned wanting to have children with me. And she recently added reading about motorcycles, firearms and electronics, because she wanted to know more about the subjects important to me.
I considered things to be going well. I was very happy. I did sacrifice some things in having a relationship with Amy. I had to make all the plans. And it was more difficult in that she did not tell me what she wanted to do. Probably because she never considered doing anything than what I wanted to do. And I started to get frustrated that she would not tell me what she wanted to do, until we had lunch with her father. He was not particularly gentle with me when he pointed out that of course she would not tell me anything that she wanted to do, because all that she wanted to do was for me to share my life with her. She was most happy when she was with me doing what I enjoyed doing!
The next crisis was a little more challenging. One evening we were both reading. She brought me a soft drink and I pulled her in my lap and told her “I love you.” I had said it before and I meant it. She hugged me and kissed me on my cheek. I suddenly realized that whenever I told her I loved her; she would smile and hug me.
“Amy, do you love me?”
She looked at me a little confused. “I think so. I don’t love you like I love Daddy. But I love being with you.”
“You think so?”
“Why are you looking so angry at me?”
“I thought you loved me!”
I could tell that she was about to say it just because I was angry. So I told her to not say anything. At this point she started crying hard. I felt sympathy for her, but I was angry. What was I doing opening up my heart to a woman who doesn’t even love me? Hell, if she even capable of loving any man other than her father? Well, he got me into this mess, so I called him on the phone and told him he needed to come here. He complied right away.
“Hi John. Why is Amy crying.”
I looked at Amy and said “Tell him.”
She just started crying more.
“Tell your father if you love me.”
“John, don’t be stupid. Of course, she can’t answer that. I know what you mean, but on its face, it is a fucking, stupid question.”
“It is stupid to ask the woman in your life if she loves you? I think it is a pretty important question. Why the hell am I wasting my time on a woman who won’t even love me?”
By this point, Amy was clutching to me desperately and had trouble breathing through her sobs.
Robert looked at his daughter and then gave me an accusing eye.
“Idiot. Do you love steak? Is that the kind of love that you mean? Because I can assure you that this woman loves you much more than you love steak.”
“You know that is not what I mean by that word.”
I do, but Amy doesn’t know what you mean by that. The only comparison she has with any man is me. She does not love you like she loves me.”
“Huh. She said that.”
“Right. She won’t lie to you. She did not love the man she married. He never taught her to love. I told you that. John, who was your first love?”
“Sheila. But what does that have to do with what we are talking about? I haven’t thought about her in years.”
“Maybe. But she and subsequent girlfriends taught you what ‘love’ means in the context of asking a lover if they love you. Someone taught you to love. At least it gave you an idea of what that word means. I doubt that you can even define the word. It is a feeling and it carries connotations of certain ideas such as fidelity, companionship, and romance. It likely carries the context of meaningful sex. Take a minute to gather your thoughts and tell me what love means to you.”
“Love. It means to want to spend the rest of your life with that person. It means that you are most happy when you are around them. It means that you eventually want to make that person your family and that you are a team of two. That it is you and your lover against the world. It means that you have committed everything to that relationship. And yes, it means that you want to have sex with that person as an expression of your feelings and commitments and that you will be sexually monogamous to that person.”
“Okay John. Why don’t you ask Amy if she feels that way?”
Amy had gotten very quiet and was looking at me intently. “Amy did you understand what I said about love?” She nodded at me. “Do you feel that way about me?” Amy started kissing me and shouting “Yes. Yes, I Love You.” Eventually she calmed down and was staring at me adoringly. I did not feel like I deserved that. I felt as worthy as dog crap on the bottom of my shoes.
Robert had sat through Amy’s fit of declarations and physical demonstrations of her love. But now he stood up.
“John, just to be clear. This issue is not over. It will never be over. Only fools think that they fully understand love and that everyone else understands love in the same way. Honestly, ‘love’ is perhaps the vaguest term for an emotion. Regardless, every couple must learn for themselves what love means to them. And words have little substance. They can only reassure someone feeling insecure. Amy told you every day by her actions that she desperately wants to spend the rest of her life with you. Her face tells you every day that no one on this planet yearns to be with you more than she does. She has arranged her entire life to being your partner in whatever you do. No one could be more faithful. And while you have not told me much about your sex life, I would bet my house that during sexual activity she is showing a lot more than just a desire for orgasm. So, it seems to me that she told you in every way that she knew how that she loves you more than you deserve. But you chose to focus on her not being able to understand the word that YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TEACH HER ABOUT. Please think before you crush my daughter’s heart like you did tonight. She does not deserve that.”
So I would not call our relationship perfect. But I know that I did not deserve Amy. She did, however, need me. And she accepted her father’s choice that I was the man for her. I asked her to marry me in August. We had a simple ceremony in October. The next five years she taught me more about what true love is than I could have ever imagined. She did not teach me by talking. She demonstrated it.
In the fifth year of our marriage, on the Thursday before Christmas, we were shopping. When she stepped from a car, a woman driver on a cell phone ran her over. She was badly injured. She made it to the emergency room, but she was not doing well. I think everyone in the emergency room knew that she was not going to make it, so when she pushed the doctor away and said she had to speak to her husband, no one stopped us. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to her face.
“John, I understand love now. I have for five years. Before I go you, need to know that my love for you fills my heart.”
“I know Amy. I love you so much.”
“Thank you for teaching me to love. Thank you for taking a weird, submissive woman like me and making me complete. I have been so happy since we met. I never regretted making you my master and husband. You have such a gift.”
“Oh God, Amy. I wish I had been a better husband. You have been so giving to me. I could never give enough back to you. But I tried, Amy. I tried.”
“Don’t say that. You gave me everything that I ever wanted. I am going to die with no regrets. I only have supreme joy that I had you to love and you to love me. You were perfect. Now I have a request.”
Amy had never requested anything. Ever. So, I was surprised.
“You have a gift. And many women, especially women in my family, need your guidance. In my bedside table is my journal. I started writing in it the Monday after I first moved in with you. I wrote everything about us. You can read it if you want. But the women that need you will need to read it. It will help them.”
“I don’t understand. What women are you talking about?”
“Women like me. Women who are lost like I was lost before I met you. I want you to help as many as you can. Please. Don’t abandon them. I don’t think anyone else is equipped to teach them. You need to teach them how to love and you must find them good men for master-husbands. Men who will love like you do. I don’t have the right to ask you this. I know I don’t. You are my master; I am not the mistress. But I am the only one who can ask for them.”
Amy began having difficulty breathing.
“My journal ... first anniversary ... read. Talk to ... Daddy. Knows girls...”
The doctor was working on Amy but she would not let go of my hand.
She looked at me with that Amy look of adoration while they worked on her until the life left her eyes.
I cried. I felt like I had died. Only my body lived.
Amy was wrong those final moments. She became the teacher of true love. When I met her, my understanding of love was shallow. Her love was expressed in dozens of different ways every day. And now she unintentionally gave me her final lesson of love. I am learning that loving so deeply is dangerous. The loss of a loved one is devastating. In my raw mourning, the pain seems almost as great as the joy of living with her. I suppose something so good must have a balancing cost.