My life as a slave

My life as a slave

Status: In Progress

Genre: Non-Fiction

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Non-Fiction

Tags

Summary

Just a few short clips of what it's like in my life as a slave in the BDSM lifestyle. It's not all glamour, it's not all bruises and blood (though I'd like it to be).

Tags

Summary

Just a few short clips of what it's like in my life as a slave in the BDSM lifestyle. It's not all glamour, it's not all bruises and blood (though I'd like it to be).

Chapter1 (v.1) - Cuddling with a Dominant

Author Chapter Note

This isn't exactly sexual, I know. It's porn for the soul, or maybe just a soft beginning to the story. Either or, it's where I begin.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 27, 2018

Reads: 1578

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 27, 2018

A A A

A A A

We laid on the couch last night, Suicide Squad playing on the tv, a movie we both love. He was underneath me, his chest propped up by the arm rest. His arms wrapped snugly around me, his fingers lacing together to help keep his grip; my arms wrapped around his chest, my head resting on his shoulder and pressing against his neck. At some point in the movie, his fingers began to wander, grabbing my flesh in a calm, secure way. He didn't touch me sexually, no; despite the fact that I wore only a t-shirt and panties, my rear sticking out from the blanket that covered only my legs, his hands never strayed from their job of making me feel secure and calm. He switched from rubbing my back to gently resting a hand at the base of my ribcage, while the other wrapped securely around my shoulders.

I stayed there, listening to his heartbeat, his bulging shoulder muscles gripped in my hand while I pushed my face further into his neck, his unshaven face prickling at me. It felt nice, you see; nicer than anything before. For once, I didn't have all the cards in my deck. I didn't have all the power, all the responsibility. He could just hold me, even if I was nearly naked, even if I'd tried grinding against him... He'd just hold me. And I'd never had that before. Everyone else took advantage of me, or I had all the cards in my deck and played them, my partners fucking me until they no longer wanted to, and I was left craving more. More power, more control, more sex. Not just for my body, for my soul, too. It made me crazy; I had all this power I couldn't help but to use, doing my best to see exactly how much I meant to someone by pushing them away. If they fought to be with me, they could stay. But nobody ever did, they all decided I wasn't worth the hassle. But with him? I don't have those cards. I don't want them. He wants to fuck just as much as I do, maybe more. But he doesn't. He doesn't give me the power to call the shots, to push him away. He doesn't put those cards in my deck. I'm very grateful for that. Nobody else has done that for me. I'm still crazy, don't get me wrong. But it's just normal crazy, I get to be me, something I never felt I could be before.

Trust me, he's earned his place here with me, just as I've earned mine with him. With anyone else, they'd have made me grovel while doing nothing to earn my trust and respect for them. He's fought to be here with me, earning my trust and breaking down my walls. He's smart enough to see right through me and gentle enough to hold me. Just as I've earned my right to be here with him, obeying his commands, submitting at his feet daily. Even more so, I get along with his live-in girlfriend, who's grown quite fond of me over the years despite how others have burned her. Getting along with the two of them and being outrageously happy is a feat in itself, considering all the slaves I've seen come and go over the years, one after another not fitting or making mistake after mistake, not truly wanting to be here.

His arms had switched to wrapping around my chest again, fingers weaving between one another to hold me securely, snapping me from my thoughts. He nuzzled his face into my hair, distracted from the movie, as he breathed in my scent. I could feel the beard he was beginning to grow pushing into my hair, unusually soft for facial hair and weeks of laziness had bevame quite apparent on his face. I smiled to myself as he relaxed beneath me, beginning to nod off. After a few moments though, his head rolled back suddenly as he relaxed, snapping him awake. Regardless, he went right back to stuffing his face in my hair, relaxing and drifting off again. My hand reached up to cup the back of his head, supporting him as he slept. I didn't usually touch him like this, he hated me touching his head and especially hated me grabbing him in a controlling way. But, this time, I'd get away with it, I knew, as soon as he started snoring.


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