Sex Slaves

So a few years back I was hanging out at a bar with a few friends of mine. We were talking about a girl we knew, and I mentioned, “I don’t like her. She’s too bossy.” As soon as I said it, everyone stopped talking and gave me that accusational look. You know the one, the “I can’t believe you just said that” look. No? I guess it’s just me then. I get that look all the damn time. I swear, almost every time I open my mouth. I mean, excuse the hell out of me, I didn’t realize that it was so damn taboo to talk about porn during Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe I’d realize that type of thing was a faux pas if you guys had gotten rid of the home videos of my own damn conception so I couldn’t accidentally stumble across them while trying to find where you hid my Christmas presents. You ever stop to think that watching them might kind of fuck me up? That maybe it might not be the healthiest thing in the world for a ten year old to see? Huh? Sorry…start over.

So a few years back I was hanging out at a bar with a few friends of mine. We were talking about a girl we knew, and I mentioned, “I don’t like her. She’s too bossy.” As soon as I said it, everyone stopped talking and gave me that accusational look. You know the one, the “I can’t believe you just said that” look. I immediately defended myself. “I am not bossy. I’m just…good…at convincing people…to do what I want them to do…with threats of violence if needed.”

But it got me to thinking that, ok, maybe I am the domineering type. Just a little. So I did what any rational person would do when confronted with a revelation about themselves. I sat down and started journaling, giving serious thought and consideration about this new information; what it said about me, and how I could use it to make myself a better person - both for myself, and everyone I come in contact with.

You didn’t believe that did you? Good. No, I got pissed, got drunk, probably punched someone before drawing the rational conclusion that maybe I should get into a BDSM relationship (for those of you who don’t know that’s Bondage & Discipline/Domination & Submission/Sadism & Masochism). I’m obviously a Dom. I like things done my way and I’m really good at giving orders. I’m definitely not a Sub. I’ve been told repeatedly that I have issues with authority and it’s pretty hard to get me to do anything I don’t want to – that and I hate bossy people. So yeah, that type of life style might fit my personality. Especially after I found there was a subsection of the Subs called Slaves.

I join a few sites and start looking for a female Sub/Slave in my area. I was very selective in my choice, I had to be picky, didn’t want no ugly slave. After a bit of looking I found an attractive girl that caught my interest, and of course wanted me – as any female in their right mind would. We corresponded a bit, sent a few emails to start getting to know each other, and it was looking like it was going to happen. We got to the part about our Dom/Sub relationship was going to be like, and she wanted to know how she, as a Slave, could serve me as her Master. Keeping in mind that the more domineering the Master, the happier the slave is, I sent her a list.

“The dishes need done, the floors need swept, the kitty litter needs cleaned and the rug vacuumed. The lawn will need to be done at least once a week, and windows monthly. I expect a cup of coffee waiting for me when I get up, dinner when I get home and a bath run for me nightly. The bedding will need to be washed every other week, or as needed.” The list went on and on like that for about two or three pages.

Apparently they’re not that kind of slave. It’s all supposed to be all sexual, part of bedroom play. Spankings and making them stand in the corner and stuff like that. Trust me, I was going to fuck her too; I had every intention of that. I was just trying to be courteous considering how tired I figured she was going to be the first few weeks catching up with all the housework. I thought it would be rude to make her please me in bed after hours and hours of cleaning. I mean, it’s kind of stupid to give her sexual orders in bed that don’t get anything done while the kitty litters over flowing.

And don’t get me wrong; from a sexual point of view it’s a pretty cool concept. I guess. It’s just that the apartment is a mess…