The Enslavement of Marie
Chapter 23: Mistress Melody

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BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 23: Mistress Melody - A young lady finds herself slipping deeper and deeper into a state of sexual slavery. As the kinky hidden world all around her reveals itself, she tries to discover who is behind her enslavement.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Coercion   Mind Control   Reluctant   Slavery   Lesbian   Heterosexual   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Spanking   PonyGirl   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Voyeurism   Body Modification   Doctor/Nurse   Teacher/Student   Slow  

The Orderly handed Marie some of his lunch through the bars of his cell, and she ate as he told the story of Melody.

He had met Melody at a bondage picnic in a nearby national park. She had charmed him with her fire and sex appeal, and by the end of the month she had collared him. He lived with her and tended to her needs, and they played in ways that he had never dreamed possible. As Marie watched him speak, she could see the love he had for Melody mixed with painful regret.

"She was a ferocious businesswoman, and her work began to take up more and more of her time. Sometimes she'd leave me locked in my cage and stay at work until midnight. I could see that the stress was eating away at her, and I think her business was going poorly (although she would never admit it to me).

"One day she just dragged me to the stocks and began whipping me without stopping. I cried out for mercy, and even used the safeword that we had invented before my collaring. She just wouldn't stop. Eventually I blacked out, and found myself in the emergency room.

"Our doctor was part of the group that organized the picnic where we met, and he spoke with me at great length about her behavior. He could tell that I was too in love with her to say anything bad, but I guess he read between the lines. He told me that if I wanted to truly serve her, then I had to help her through this crisis.

"So I got a referral to Dr. Rosenstock, who confirmed a mental breakdown diagnosis. He said there was a special institute, one that did not view our lifestyle as symptoms of mental illness, one that would understand our relationship. He promised nothing, but ... he gave us hope.

"I went and visited her every chance I got. It pained me to see my Mistress bound up in straitjackets, doped into compliance. It was months before she and I could have a conversation like old times, but something in her had changed.

"You have to understand that Melody was 100% Domme. The very thought of subbing was completely alien to her. We were given an hour of unsupervised privacy in her padded cell, and I would try to serve her as I had at home. But one day she started ... I dunno, bottoming from the top I guess you could say.

"It was subtle at first. She had me make love to her pinned against the wall, or she would start her normal sexual teasing but give in quickly and go all the way. She sucked my cock, held me close, and I started to feel, well ... awkward and conspicuous.

"It wasn't long after that that she started barking orders for me to pull her hair or fuck her tits. She had me take her anally, pin her arms behind her back, pinch her nipples, and finally she demanded that I count out spankings I was giving to her!

"When she was released, I drove her home and prepared a candlelit dinner. I wanted to put her back in her throne and feed her the way I used to, but she spat insults and ordered me to stand up and be a man and sit at the table. She snapped at me all night long, berating me for my weakness. It wasn't exactly what she said that got to me, but something in the way she said it was different from our usual games.

"I woke in the small hours of the morning to see her sitting before the vanity mirror. It was dark, and she had lit a single candle by the bedside. I remember it was one of the fat red ones she used to pour wax from when she still dommed me. She was just gazing, eyes bottomless pools of shadow, into her own reflection. Her chest rose and fell with deep panicked breaths, and she was ... growling, or intoning something just out of the range of hearing.

"As the days went on I found her engaging in elaborate self-bondage using all of my equipment. She got her nipples pierced, and then her clit hood. She started going out dressed in provocative outfits, coming home days later covered in welts or boxed in a crate or stark naked.

"Two weeks later she put me in my straitjacket and chastity tube and locked me in my cage. I looked up into her sad, furious eyes, and moaned a plea for help around my gag. She simply knelt there, palms upturned on her knees, and waited.

"To my horror, several men in black leather entered the room. They hooded her and put her in stocks before leading her away by a leash attached to her clit ring. I had never expected to see her go in such a humiliating way. My cage was hauled into a truck and locked next to hers, and I spent the whole journey watching her broken form shake and moan as we were shipped to this place.

 
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