Previously from Sex Slave Story: How I Became My Son’s Indentured Sex Slave (Part 2)
I was scared, more than a bit tipsy, and much to my astonishment, my body was betraying me, growing more and more aroused with the attention I was getting in my sex slave story. From what I can remember, it was all very vanilla at first. Then one hard body became two. And then three.
And then vanilla had left the building.
My Indentured Sex Slave Story continues…
It was all such a haze; a mind (as well as pussy) numbing whirlwind of sensations. My indoctrination into this world was hard, and primal, and at times, brutal. So much was done to me, with me, and the things I did as well…well, some I never knew could be done. But true to his word, Justin had made sure no true harm came to me; meaning that I wasn’t left bruised and broken and tossed out with the trash when they were through with me.
Sunday morning, I awoke extremely sore but relatively in one piece. With a twisted sort of pride, I smiled to myself – I survived the weekend! Not just survived, but much to my dismay, I hadn’t hated every minute of it. Something deep inside me had been awakened, and if I were to be completely honest with myself, I wanted to see where this would go (not that I would ever admit to such a thing!!).
The parties continued like this for the next few months – continued and escalated. Escalated in both the things I was expected to do and the things that were done to me. And my appetite for such things escalated right along with them (I won’t go into details here, as they are quite numerous and graphic, but chances are better than good that I could be persuaded to tell all the juicy little details in a cheap phone sex session).
My Sex Slave Story was chugging along nicely until that inevitable event happened
My son was scheduled to come home for winter break. I didn’t know how I was going to explain my disappearances every weekend, not to mention my manner of dress or the condition I was in when I returned home. I figured I would just breeze by him with lighted explanations, stating that I had expanded my horizons, and leave it at that.
Friday night came, and I had dressed in a scandalized leather bustier and thigh-high boots, all concealed very properly under a long trench coat. But the car was late. When I texted Justin to inquire as to where the car was, he just replied, “not coming.” With confusion and more than just a touch of panic, I called him. And again, I asked him where the car was, and why wasn’t it coming.
My mind was spiraling, thinking to myself. Did I pay off my debt and I no longer had to play out my sex slave story to his guests? For some reason that thought through me into a panic. Panic? Why a panic? I should be glad I didn’t have to debase myself every weekend, shouldn’t I? Such fleeting thoughts abruptly came to a screeching halt when he just sort of chuckled and said that I should ask my son about it.
My face must have gone ashen with those few words. My mouth had gone dry like the Sahara. But I managed to slowly and succinctly ask him what he meant by that. Again, his response was a loud chuckle and he just repeated what he stated before – Ask. My. Son.
My sex slave story just took an eerie twist
As I turned, the hand that held my phone dropped to my side and my eyes locked with my son’s.
That’s when a saw the hunger there as a knowing smile crossed his face.
“That’s right Mom, I bought your markers. I know EXACTLY what you’ve been doing these past months. I’ve gotten quite the report, complete with pics and video, showing what a dirty, dirty, girl you’ve been, and all those wicked things you’ve done. And you will continue to do so – for me… and not just for me, but TO me. You are going to be my own personal sex slave. Or I will send you right back to your former owner, and let it be known what a little whore you are to the entire town.
“Now come here and let me sample the wares of my own personal Indentured sex slave.”
And that’s how my sex slave came to be, and how I became my son’s indentured sex slave.
Now, don’t you want to call my phone sex line and delve into a sex slave story of our very own?
Your Free Sex Story & Sex Slave Story Guru,
