Hi! I’m Julia Evans ... No! I’m Julia Stevenson – How could I forget? Of course, it’s only a few hours since we took our vows. Someone asked me to tell my story as I saw it. Of course David ... my Master ... my husband has told the story, but he doesn’t know all the details. I never expected a ring on my finger – just a collar on my neck...
I was very lucky with my mum and dad. Seriously. I never, ever, doubted their love for me and I grew up secure and happy. Dad held the belief – and Mum agreed – that bad behaviour should be punished, and a smack – or several smacks, as appropriate – on the bottom was much better than some non-physical punishment like no pudding at dinner time. It was always proportional, and he always cuddled me afterwards. I don’t know, and I don’t believe anyone can say that that’s why I grew up the way I did. Don’t get me wrong – I never got a bare-bottom spanking from either parent and I never saw it as in any way sexual.
I got my first period quite early, before I was twelve. Some time – perhaps six months – after that, I started getting wet between the legs when Dad spanked me and I started thinking about sex. I mean, I knew the basics, and had explored that special spot. It felt good, but it was after a spanking I had my first orgasm from masturbation. In fact, I really only had an orgasm worthy of the name after a spanking. Anyway.
I suppose Dad noticed something. He probably smelt my arousal. “Sweetie, your Mum and I have been talking. You’re a young woman now, and we’ve taught you how to live, how to behave. There will be no more spankings.”
“No, darling. You’re old enough to discipline yourself.”
I sighed sadly. “Okay, Dad.”
We had a counsellor at school – it was a progressive school, I suppose. But she was good. A friend of mine – you know how it is? We were talking. “You should talk to Missus Shaw,” my friend told me. “Remember when I was having that bust-up with Chip? She was really supportive. Told me some stuff...”
Well, I did. And she was – supportive, that is. I had to work hard to convince her Dad never abused me. “No, Ma’am,” I told her. “Never laid a wrong hand on me. I never had a moment’s worry about Dad, or Mum, for that matter. I know people frown on spanking kids these days, but he never did that without good reason, and I always understood, and I always felt loved. You know, how parents ought to make their kids feel.”
After a few weeks of an hour a week with her, she told me, “Julia, I think you’re submissive, with mild masochistic tendencies. I’ll lend you some books about it, if you like. But please, be very careful if you think of getting seriously into a sub/dom relationship. Don’t even think about it before you’re eighteen. Please.”
So I read about it. And for nearly six years, rarely managed an orgasm. Okay, I dated from time to time, but I was very careful. I mean, I took Missus Shaw’s warnings seriously. It wasn’t ‘me’ to say no to my date, but I did, and none of them got inside my clothing. I just didn’t trust myself, let alone them.
When I reached eighteen, I talked to Mum and Dad. You can imagine, they were worried about me, and made me promise to wait on exploring my sexual leanings until I finished University. I took that promise seriously, and only got involved in ‘safe’ extra-mural activities and dates. Fair enough, I graduated with a two-one degree in history, which wasn’t bad, really. The school asked me to stay on for a Master’s, and careers advice suggested a PGCE, but I’d waited long enough. Mum and Dad were upset, but ... I had a friend, well, sort of friend, who was into all sorts of weird stuff even before leaving school. She introduced me to someone who introduced me to my first Master.
Master George was okay. I mean, entering a Master/slave relationship is going to be a culture shock, but we met and he laid out what was expected – on both sides. Told me to take a week to think about it. I did. The hardest part was cutting off my parents, but I’d been working towards that for years. As I say, Master George was okay. There was no punishment for the sake of punishment. I was spanked or paddled or caned, I was teased and denied, tied or handcuffed, all those things, but always for a reason and always proportional to the fault, error or disobedience. Even before we got to that, though, I remember his shock on finding out I was a virgin ... in all three holes.
I arrived at his house and stripped on entry as instructed. In his lounge – blinds drawn, of course – he began instructing me in posture, during the course of which he caressed, stroked or squeezed me, as I expected, commenting on the tone (or lack of it) in various bits of me. In due course, he was exploring my pussy and I winced; he was about to reprimand me when he saw the blood on his finger.
“You’re a virgin?”
I nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“What experience have you got?”
I shrugged and he slapped my backside sharply. “Sorry, sir. I have no experience, other than masturbation, and getting wet when I was spanked when I was younger, sir.”
“And you want to proceed with this? I will release you now, if you’ve changed your mind.”
“No – I’ve been waiting for this for over four years.”
“Well, your first times should be in a bed, I think. And I thank you for the privilege. Let’s go upstairs, Slave.”
I could not have had a better first time. I should say, first times, as he led me through losing my vaginal virginity, then oral, and some hours later, he gently introduced me to anal. I had several orgasms – epic ones – after an initial spanking, cunnilingus, and my first vaginal penetration. Sucking him off didn’t do much for me, but I didn’t mind doing it at all. Later, after eating a meal which I prepared under his supervision, I actually experienced a climax as he came in my bowels.
I was with him six months. In that time I learned how to properly present myself, how to pleasure him, how to continue with household duties while being fondled and, often, penetrated. I usually slept on a thin mattress at the foot of his bed and I only wore clothes when I had to go out.
One day, though, he brought another young woman home. I watched as she stripped for him, knelt and fellated him.
For a week, my main duties involved the new slave, then I was called into the lounge to face a new Master.
“Slave, this is Master Sam. He is interested in buying you. You will let him examine you.”
You might imagine – perhaps you can’t – my consternation. Master George was my first everything and, if I didn’t love him, I certainly was very attached to him. But my training held. I was silent as I stood, legs spread, arms folded behind me, and Master Sam fondled, caressed and groped me, finally sticking long, fat fingers into my pussy, arse and mouth.
“Seems satisfactory,” he grunted. “You’re asking ten K? I’ll offer five.”
“Ridiculous,” Master George retorted. “I’d rather keep her until I find a more discerning purchaser.”
They did, eventually, settle on a price of eight thousand. I can’t say I felt great about it, but when ordered, I dressed and followed my new Master out to his car, where he made me curl up in the boot. I’m not particularly claustrophobic, but it was cramped and, of course there was no way I could get out. At his house he actually clipped a lead to my collar and led me inside to a bare little room, having only a thin pad as a bed, a bowl of water, and a clean bowl. I was to find that the clean bowl was for my food, which I had to eat, without using my hands or utensils, like a dog.
It was very different from my experience with Master George. Master Sam exhibited no trace of affection; I was merely ‘three holes and two tits’ as the saying goes. I routinely sucked him off as he ate breakfast, and at other irregular times he would bend me over and empty his balls into my bowels – I soon learned to make sure I lubed up there every morning and topped it up during the day. He made no effort to please me, and usually I only got an orgasm when I’d disappointed him in some way so he’d cane or whip my backside. At least he never refused to let me cum – he just never facilitated it.
Very soon I found that I was expected to satisfy not only him, but his visiting friends, particularly as the ‘prize’ in games of chance. They got a kick out of a naked woman kneeling there as they played, drank and talked. That was the first time I had more than one man at a time. In fact I often ended up penetrated in all three holes at the same time, and had to curl up on my ‘bed’ with cum all over and trickling out of me. Unless one or more of the men decided that they’d enjoy washing me, which they did rather as one would wash a dog – a broom, and the shower head, with cold water.
Anyway, Master Sam got tired of me after about eight months, I think, and sold me on to Master Kei. I...
At this point Julia became quite distressed and left the room to compose her self. When she returned, she continued...
Master Kei was into Shibari and Kinbaku. I could cope with that. For some reason, though, he liked to use a cattle-prod on me once I was thoroughly tied. Once he got excited enough, he would use whichever hole was accessible, and, often, would piss on me once he’d finished. As an alternative, he also enjoyed bukkake and would bring a group of friends in to decorate me. I amused him, I suppose, for a few months before passing me on to Master Lionel.
.... There is more of this story ...