My life as a Sex Slave.

Sex slve with a sadoslave captured in the passions of pain and pleasure with bdsm videos and many slve wife pictures.

SITE LINKS

I found my master online five years ago!

Sex Slave

Punished for some deeds is accomplished with a bondage chair and stern attentions. With ankles held tightly in the grip of nylon braids my words spoken in silent sentences behind the gag. Arms tired - aching to come down to my sides are held secure over my head and hands numb tightly held up out of his way.

He loans my sexual services to his friends and coworkers!

My life as a sex slave began a few years ago. It was what I had always wanted, but it didn't come easily.

Before I was a sex slave I was married for 12 years to a man who was a self proclaimed righteous icon. While he spent most of those 12 years wearing me down emotionally and battering my self esteem, he did nothing to fulfill my desire to be a sex slave. We married right after I graduated from high school. I was an 18 year old bride. Though I had been a party girl through most of high school, I was a virgin bride too. It was exciting to me thinking of getting married. I could have such freedom. Freedom from my parents rules and control, freedom to have adult friends without question of my behavior and intent. Most of all, freedom to explore my sexual desires.

My husband was 5 years older than I and was in the United States Air force when we married. I had been raised in Los Angeles, as was he, but he was stationed in Louisiana. You see the abbreviation for Louisiana is LA, so when he picked his station and saw LA on the form he thought it was LA for Los Angeles. Need I say more? My sex slave heart didn't care where we would live though. It was enough to have fallen in love and starting my life as an adult. I couldn't wait to be a military wife. He took two days of leave and came to LA and we went to the justice of the peace to get married. There just wasn't enough money for a real wedding and he promised we would do it the right way in a few years when we had the money.

sex slave

After the wedding we left LA and flew to LA.. Louisiana that is. I was so in love and wanted to make my husband's world a paradise. We arrived at the base where he had gotten us an apartment. It wasn't anything too fancy; abut 600 square feet and poorly equipped kitchen, and two small bedrooms, but it was ours. We started to unpack and put my clothes away and I could see the apartment complex had a swimming pool. That was just what I needed! It was a hot and very humid day and after the long flight and unpacking I thought to go swimming. I missed the ocean already too. My days as a sex slave began and ended on that same day.

continued on page 2

The hard wooden seat unforgiving to my long seated and sore bottom provides a narrow platform for objects soon to be inside me. Now a new craze has entered stealthily into my thoughts. The throbbing is obvious but the source of sensation seems oddly detached from me. As the stealth vision of feeling fades it becomes obvious the source are my breasts craving increased circulation from the restriction he has excellently wrapped them in. Every thread of the weave bites in where it lays around my limbs and torso. My heaven is often my bodies hell. Mental separations of compliance and consent mix and depart in random patterns of unfocused realization.