Chapter 18

That Saturday at Six Flags had been fantastic. We laughed a lot about the adventures we had. The girls found it exhilarating and unexpectedly seemed amused by it all. Sunday was fun as well – we were growing together as a family. I was in training all day, but Randy allowed the girls to pick out some new clothes that met his criteria as he promised. I was told he even let them drive the car (as long as they sat properly).

I was now counting the final days from signing the final contract. I was full of conflict about it and had butterflies about making that commitment. I reflected on how much things had changed in just the last week, both the good and the bad. Some of the bad was good and some of the good was certifiably bad in my opinion.

I had every reason to sign my ass over to Randy permanently, and yet a part of me still wasn’t entirely certain that this was the right decision. He wasn’t exactly what I needed. I was still a smart-assed masochist and not a true submissive. I had times where I became submissive but I also had times where I intentionally broke the rules.

It had been explained to me by a different master that you can’t really be both a sexual bottom and a submissive. The sexual bottom derives sexual pleasure from things like pain, humiliation, bondage and goes to “sub-space” where they are in their sexual happy place. The “True” submissive enjoys serving and pleasing others needs.

I was neither as far as I was concerned. I certainly had orgasms but I never achieved “sub-space”. I wasn’t looking to leave my body/mind. I did get off on rough stuff but it wasn’t about checking out of reality.

I was not a very good submissive. I wanted to be more like Jasper and learn to put others first. I wanted to learn humility, obedience, patience, and be kept in my place. I saw a good beating as an opportunity to have my “Bitch Button” reset. Yet, even though it got reset I would immediately start acting bratty, petulant, vain, confrontational, and lazy again.

This “cure” of 24/7 domestic discipline was no cure at all. It was at best – a holding pattern that kept me from being an even bigger bitch than I truly was deep inside. It was just hard for me to accept the truth of that realization. I had no other solutions in mind to my problem that I was willing to try.

“Just go back to being a good wife, and mother” was not on the table.

I wasn’t sure if I should agree to Randy as a permanent Master just because he was ‘good enough’ to keep me in line 80% of the time. I contemplated asking him for a year to decide. A lifetime was a huge commitment. Then again – if I was going to involve him in my life for a year he would be a part of the family by then and the kids probably would have grown attached to him.

I kept my concerns to myself though and projected confidence that we were moving in the right direction and everything was as it should be.

One fine day, Master’s car was in the shop. He took our new Tucson to his job, my husband drove the piece of shit, so I called for an Uber. I fucked about nine guys that day at work. My pussy was full of cum, and so was my ass. I wasn’t satisfied though.

“Do you mind if I give you a blowjob? I’ll still tip you, Sir,” I casually said to the man driving me home. He would either laugh it off or let me unzip his pants. 9 times out of 10, when I ask the guy unzips his pants.

I sat with my legs spread so he could see my bald pussy in the rearview mirror. He thought I was joking so I crawled forward and unzipped his pants with my mouth. Then I went down on him and slobbed his knob all the way to my house.

I love sucking dick.

Master Randy and the girls were out in the yard when I got home. They saw my head bobbing in the car. They knew what I was doing – Master Randy did for sure.

I expected punishment and I was ready to submit to it - whatever ‘it’ was to be. I already knew I deserved it.

Master Randy had something new in store for me. Randy walked right up to the car and yanked me out by my hair. The Uber driver didn’t hang around long before he took off. He probably thought Randy was a jealous husband or something. I didn’t blame the driver.

“You fucking whore,” Randy grabbed me and I’d had my blouse ripped off by my Master before the Uber driver even had his pants refastened. Randy stripped me completely naked in the yard before he took me inside. He threw me on the floor of the living room, and his eyes flashed rage.

I was scared and wet at the same time. I loved danger. I hated that Randy was upset and I felt bad that my daughters saw me being handled this way. He slapped me across the face and I thought he might even punch me. I looked at him with defiance in my eyes – daring him to go that far.

I wouldn’t have punched back.

“You have the audacity to act like you are a proper mother and then they see you clucking like a chicken outside, sucking cock on the way home from work right up to the driveway?”

He was right – I was nasty, and I knew it. I threw myself on Randy’s mercy and told him that I accepted my punishment. It was a mistake on my part – but subconsciously I knew that I was rotten to my core. I wasn’t going to let a perfectly good dick go to waste. I had taken my time and savored the driver’s cock – I could have made him cum quickly. I didn’t so that I could have fun on the ride home.

“Oh, you’ll get punished. He tied my legs and spread my wrists so that I was tied up to the recliner with my legs lifted up. Randy yanked my hair hard and pinched my nose and mouth shut to make me gasp before removing my butt plug and shoving it in my mouth. I had been in this position before, many times.

“You will stay like this until tomorrow,” he declared angrily. I thought that was an excessive punishment and not just because I wouldn’t get any dinner. It’s a long time to be bound so uncomfortably. I still didn’t complain or ask for mercy. I accepted his decision. I should have known he wasn’t through with me yet.

He went into his room and brought out a labia spreader. It reminded me of three metal hoops with a center bar. It was a new toy and I found myself getting wet. I was no stranger to clamps and weights.

Master grabbed my pussy lips and smashed my clit hard – hard enough to set me off. I roared out an orgasm. That was unfair. I’d never had a full orgasm in front of my daughters and son before. I couldn’t help it. I moaned and mewled. He tugged my nipples and got me really excited.

Then he stopped and walked away.

It was torture – just like I did to my husband when I got him excited. He returned ten minutes later and spit on my pussy. Then he attached the device’s clips. The outer rings clamped down on my labia and crushed them. He tightened the screws on them, and I screamed out in agony. It really hurt – like having your thumb smashed in a vice – except now imagine it is your pussy lips or your cock.

The inner ring held my pussy wide open and he tightened that too. Despite having my cervix and pee-hole completely exposed through the gape created by the bands – there was no way that any sizable cock could actually go inside me.

The gap would make me look like a sex-beast with a huge, dripping wet but useless sex hole. I could still piss or finger myself but it wasn’t the same.

He tightened the middle bar and crushed my pussy lips between the other bands ... The device was intended for short-term wear and I had it on night and day. The worst part was the pain made me horny and want to cum even more than normal. It was excruciatingly cruel and I totally deserved it.

He attached the inner band to my clitoris and pushed it down so that it held down my orgasm button. I don’t know how I didn’t dehydrate – I was wet night and day. I am almost always ready to fuck but now my ruined cunt was slobbering down my thighs.

Randy used two small padlocks to locked it in place. Randy still wasn’t done with me – even though I submitted completely like a rag doll.

He pushed a small metal plug into my asshole. It slid in easily. I didn’t fight it. I was used to wearing a butt plug, and this was small.

It connected to the labia spreader and he locked that in place - with the same padlock. This was no tiny little lock that could be easily removed. This was a heavy lock that would require a locksmith and a lot of explanation for how I got locked up like this. I hadn’t expected that at all.

I remained bound in the living room like that all night. Freddy hand fed me some food from the table and put a glass of water to my lips. I wasn’t hungry. I felt bad about what I had done.

Freddy didn’t stand there and look inside my cunt like I thought he would. He was gentle and considerate. The girls didn’t tease me either.

As it was a Friday and there was no work the next day, Master left me like that well into the afternoon the next day. I was tired from lack of sleep and food, and my head was hazy.

After that I did everything Randy told me to do just the way he wanted. I didn’t talk back. I didn’t joke. I surrendered completely to him and to a life as a service slave. I used to joke when Jasper was gone and shake my tits in an exaggerated fashion while I cleaned the stove. I’d wiggle my ass and whistle or pretend to be an old Slave Marm from the south.

Instead, I just quietly did as I was told without hesitation. It was what a service slave SHOULD do. I started to feel what real submission was. I wasn’t supposed to do things for my entertainment and excitement. I was supposed to serve and be a source of amusement to my owner.

I did everything I was told without question. It’s what I had said I wanted but it wasn’t in any way fun. At work the next week, I didn’t fuck. My holes were fully blocked and I could barely get a finger inside me. In a way, I was content though. I wasn’t happy. I felt a little broken inside – but in a good way. I was like a wild horse that had finally learned to accept a saddle.

Yet, part of me wanted to cry, and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t just the sudden forced abstinence or the feeling that I might NEVER get dick again. It was something else that I don’t have the words for – suffice to say that I was conflicted in a way I had never been before.

The constant stimulation of the center labia ring turned me on but never satisfied me. I didn’t feel big orgasms the way I had when Master first introduced my pussy to the device. Worse, Master stopped fucking me. He also stopped making me do penetration exercises.

Naturally, I could not go bike riding with my girls either. I thought about asking for a normal bike seat, but we were well past that.

Evenings were surreal. I didn’t have a big confession to make when I got home, and there wasn’t a big production surrounding my punishment. The plug was constant in my ass except when I had to shit. I had to hold it all day at work.

The guys I used to fuck regularly at work started talking trash about me. It wasn’t fair really. I wasn’t’ fucking them so they had no reason to pretend to be my friend. I knew I came across as a petulant bitch and the only reason they were ever chummy with me was the promise of filthy no-strings sex.

They’d always let me come onto them but they weren’t willing to even try to make me provide repeat performances of things I’d offered up in recent weeks. It’s like they weren’t willing to make demands of me - they’d always let me lead the way until I stopped. None of them took up the reins and demanded relief.

I knew my days there were numbered. I was probably only tolerated because I had been fucking so many of the executives. It was an open secret that I was a total office slut, and my reputation had long been trashed. Now that I wasn’t putting out, it was becoming clear the company had little use for a disgrace like me.

So Master had “cured” me of my addictions. I was becoming a well-behaved slut. I could not close my legs, and my pussy was constantly stimulated and in pain at the same time. At home, I crawled everywhere in the house. I stopped teasing my husband and even gave him a blowjob once.

The day finally came for me to sign over everything to Master Randy. He brought me into his bedroom. In a way, I started to think he’d forgotten we had an arrangement with a decision day looming. It turned out he hadn’t forgotten at all.

“You’ve done really well these last few days, Slut.”

“Thank you, Master,” I answered graciously. I was doing all the speech protocol now – with the exception of calling Jasper or Freddy Sir. I was saying please, thank you, and you’re welcome. I even did a little curtsy after serving someone something. When Jasper was at my mom’s, I made dinner and set the table for Master and Freddy.

“All it took was a tiny piece of metal to make you heel,” he grinned sadistically. He was right. I was no longer defiant and willful.

“I want you, Kim. I am going to legally rename you. I am thinking Cherry or Honey - something fitting,” he said. I knew he was leaning towards the name Honey because it was one of Freddy’s suggestions. It creeped me out a little to think I’d be given a new slave name by my own son.

“Yes, Master, that is your right,” I answered. He had the paperwork for the cars and the house. I had already provided him with the banking passwords, but now he could remove my husband and I from the account if he chose.

“I might sell this house and move you to the mountains, would you like that?” he asked. “We could get away – have a fresh start,” he said.

That suggestion was alarming, but I told him that he could choose where we lived. I had made bad choices and even though I raised my kids in this house – it was just a house. I’d go where he led me.

“I want you to divorce Jasper. He is better off with your mom. I spoke to Francine, and she agreed to take him,” he said.

“You spoke to my mother, Sir?” I was shocked. I hadn’t given him her number, but Jasper probably did. “Does Jasper know about this?”

“No. I thought we could tell him together. You aren’t a dominatrix yet you try to discipline him when I am not here. It just messes with your programming,” he observed.

He was correct – although I wasn’t ready to just abandon Jasper. It would break him. I liked hurting him by teasing him – but I didn’t want to crush his spirit. I had even considered this myself at times – releasing him would free him to live a life of total submission too. My mother was a former pro-domme with a lot of time on her hands and years of experience.

There was probably some deep reason that I’d never considered a mistress. I love dick. I wanted dick and men are brutal and sadistic so I wanted a man in charge of me. My mom is elegant, refined and her form of control is subtle and wicked. I didn’t feel that was the right type of control for me. It was however exactly perfect for Jasper.

Randy even echoed the sentiment that Jasper would be better off. “I won’t keep him from his kids. He can see them whenever his domme permits,” he assured me.

I didn’t answer him. I was thinking. I haven’t made this clear but I was processing what he’d just said. He had just asked me to marry him (without a proper proposal) and part of that suggestion was for me to divorce my husband. After a month in his care, he’d caused me to be utterly speechless in much less than five minutes.

“Do you know what else?” he asked. I was happy that he wanted to change the subject.

“What, Sir?” I asked.

“I love you,” he said.

Gah, I wish he hadn’t said that. We had never told each other we loved one another. I didn’t know what love was anymore. I felt it for Jasper and the kids, but I couldn’t define it. All I knew was I didn’t feel it for Randy.

“Please don’t say that Master,” I was disappointed and on the edge of an actual freak out. I’d rather be anally fucked with a spiked baseball bat than to have to listen to talk of love. As soon as a Master starts talking about love I know we’ve reached the end of our road. It’s time to cut bait and run. I didn’t want to even entertain the idea that he could love me – especially as I was.

“Say what? That I love you?” He said that unthinkable ‘L’ word again.

I was used to him teasing me. I was hoping against hope that he was going to suddenly chuckle, tell me I didn’t deserve love and that he was just saying that to get my hopes up.

“You love me like property? A human fuck machine?” I asked, really doing my best to believe he meant that.

“Yeah, but also as a woman,” he said with no idea what he was doing to me. “You have done your best to raise two bright girls and a really cool boy in an impossible situation. You need the kink and the discipline, but you drew hard boundaries, and I respect that,” he offered.

I nodded and pouted at the same time. I love cock, I love danger, I love my family. I do not “love” anything or anyone in a mushy-romantic way though. I was more uncomfortable hearing him say he loved me then I was when he told me he might take me to Mexico to perform in a Donkey show.