Reading Time: 4minutes When Sharon awakened she was spread-eagled on a table, her ankles and wrists attached to metal constraints. She was neither blindfolded nor gagged but she was naked.
Sharon J. was, at 31, the owner of her own small but highly successful cosmetics company. She was 5’ 7”, with long auburn hair, blue eyes, 135 pounds, measurements 38D, 32, 36. She wore makeup tastefully. She wore business suits, but always with pants. She never liked skirts or dresses. On the rare occasions on which her friends saw her in dresses or skirts they told her how beautiful her legs were, but she always preferred pants. She dated sparingly, never having much time or inclination for a man. She was known as a tough but fair boss. She was proudest of never having cried since she turned 12. After a long workday she turned her key in the lock of her apartment and entered. Waiting inside her apartment, a man grabbed her arms from behind. Before she could cry out another man shoved a handkerchief with chloroform over her nose and mouth. Her feeling of panic made her hyperventilate. She saw and felt her world spin, then succumbed to the fumes.
When she awakened she was spread-eagled on a table, her ankles and wrists attached to metal constraints. She was neither blindfolded nor gagged but she was naked. Straining her neck, she looked up at him. He was a white-haired man, slightly heavyset, in his fifties. He was dressed in a solid blue business suit and a turtleneck sweater.
“Hello, Sharon. Please do not be afraid. If you answer all my questions honestly I will not harm you. You can see the wires from your ankle and wrist constraints are attached to this machine. It is a lie detector. If you answer any of my questions less than truthfully an electric shock will go through your body. Do you understand?”
Sharon nodded, trembling slightly.
“Say ‘Yes, Master.’” He commanded.
“Yes, Master,” she softly replied.
He asked Sharon many personal questions, her name, all about her family, when she felt happiest, most afraid, most embarrassed and so forth.
When he asked her which scared her more, spiders or snakes, she paused then answered, “snakes.”
She felt the surge go through her whole body. Her mouth opened wide but no scream would come out. It lasted only four seconds but the pain was intense. She writhed and shivered and panted, her breasts quivering.
He smiled, “Do you know what mistake you just made, Sharon? You made the mistake of thinking you have some control over what happens to you here. You have no more control. You shall never know my name, but
I am your Master. You are, from now on until your life ends, my little slavegirl, my slut, my whore. Do you understand?”
From a dry throat Sharon heard her words, “Yes, Master.”
After asking her a few more questions he put a gun in his right hand. He touched a switch and Sharon felt her restraints snap off. He commanded her to get up and led to down a hallway to a cell. The cell
door was made of iron bars, with a typical metal lock. Inside the cell were a cot, a commode, a sink and a cup.
The Master closed the cell door behind her, “If you scream or try to escape you will be severely beaten. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Sharon almost choked on her words.
After he left she spent 36 hours alone in the cell, temperature 69 degrees, with no clothes or blankets. She exercised and rubbed her body to keep warm. She had plenty of water but no food. After the 36 hours were up she saw her Master coming down the hall with a delicious meal in his left hand, gun in his right. He was dressed in a plaid shirt and dockers. He set the meal down on the floor.
“This food can be yours, my love, but,” he cupped his groin softly with his left hand, “you must kneel before me and suck me off. If you decline my offer you will not be punished in any way, but you will not have the food.”
She looked at him, her head trembling and her eyes filled with fear.
“Well, what will it be?”
She hesitated then said, “I’ll have the food.”
He ordered her to turn around and, after opening the cell door, handcuffed her behind her back. He forced her to her knees, then dropped his pants. He thrust his penis into her mouth. Holding the gun in his right hand, he softly cupped his left hand behind her head. He stroked her hair gently.
She was no virgin but had never done this before. She felt emotion overwhelming her. She wanted to please him so she would not be harmed. She was repulsed, yet excited. She felt her heart pound like a hammer. She was not used to being frightened or nervous. After several minutes of licking and sucking from her, he came. She almost gagged, but forced herself to swallow his semen. He took off her handcuffs, left the food
and utensils in her cell and closed the door.
She felt numb, like something inside her had broken or snapped.
An hour later he came back down the hallway carrying sheets, blankets and a pillow.
Looking into the cell he commanded, “Kneel. Look directly into my eyes.”
She obeyed promptly.
“From this moment on you are no longer Sharon. Your old life is behind you forever. You are Leeta.” He paused, “What is your name, my little slavegirl?”
“I am Leeta, Master,” she answered weakly.
He smiled at her and walked down the hall. She arranged the sheets, blankets and pillow on the cot. With the sheets and blankets over her she was plenty warm, but she found that she could not stop shivering or crying. Sleep came to her much faster than she expected.
Coleen is a writer, photographer and film maker at Wasteland and Sssh.com.
Here at BDSMCafe.com, she is editor and curator of this comprehensive library of BDSM fiction, informational articles and other educational features that date back to the early days of the internet in 1996 when the site was first launched.
